I started knitting September 2009. It was cool, rainy and felt a little tangible to me. I remember how the yarn looked in my hands. I remember working with wool for the first time. I remember the earthy colors. I got my hair colored dark red that month, so everything took on an earthy tone.
I wore a lot of rust, evergreen and brown. I worked with ella rae wool in green. I remember how the wool would stretch over those perfect little bamboo needles. I felt complete, as if I could control the chaos around me, including our joblessness and worry about the future. With every knit and purl I would manipulate the yarn, scooping it onto my needle, forming a perfect little loop that would weld into a fabric. It was tight, springy and perfect. I felt the rain in the air and smelled it mixed with the coffee and spice smells that came with the heavy, cool air.
I remember doing sound for Town and Gown and my knitting mixed with the scents of the theatre. Slightly dusty, musty and delicious. If you’ve never smelled a theatre on a rainy day, you haven’t lived. It was beautiful sitting up in the dark booth, slowly knitting on my silent bamboo needles, waiting for my cues. Everyone laughed, called me old lady and poked fun, but I didn’t care. I knew I was onto something. I hope they’ve completely forgotten the acrylic monstrosity I was practicing on first. Worsted yarn on size 13 needles!? It was huuuuge!!!
I will always remember those first days of fall, the earth tones that spun around those first weeks of knitting. The smell of rain and coffee and sweet. The quiet, damp theatre. Thats the way knitting feels.
I can’t wait for fall.