Saturday, November 6, 2010

Every Rose Has A Thorn

Ishbel of the Sea
Ishbel of the Sea
Madtosh Pashmina in Filigree

Somewhere along the line I learned how to feel superior to things. A long time before that I learned being superior was superior. Somewhere in between I learned that feeling superior is bad for my soul. It's only been the past few years that I even questioned whether or not it is bad for everyone's soul. I assumed it was. ASSuME.

And knowing this I feel superior. It's a fucking labyrinth. Where's the exit?

The Periwinkle Sheep
Watercolors Worsted Superwash in Truffle

I am lucky. I could have fuckin' lupus. I'm lucky. I found out I had Lime Disease because the tick was still attached to my arm and my arm had the tell tale physical symptoms, a nasty infection and a rash. I am lucky. Two weeks of antibiotics and I will be cured and maybe even now immune to Lime Disease. The CDC isn't 100% sure about the latter, but the former? Fuck yeah. I am lucky.

If it's one think I hate. HATE. It's having an undiagnosable ailment. And Lime Disease is a poster child of undiagnosable ailments.

But why? Why am I lucky? Will it end if I keep questioning why?

Single Ply Handspun
100% Superwash Merino from Woolen Rabbit

You know why I feel lucky right this moment? I rewatched the most wonderful film. The film is Timer. A perfect movie awakens something magical in me. I feel happy and content and crazy-in-the-mood to spread it around like air.

This movie makes me happy because it loves women. I'm not a critic so I don't know if it's the script (definitely) or the director (could be, too) or just my imagination, but it is a romantic comedy for the overthinking woman.

It is not a romantic comedy about an unassuming woman-child, standing wistfully on a street corner waiting for the bus with an angled hip and perfectly pigeon-toed toes.

It's about a woman who knows what she wants, who is occasionally shrill, but not shrill from a imperfect nature, but from a place of intellect, in an imperfect world.

Do I make sense? Lemme reread that rant.

Yeah. It makes sense to me. It doesn't convey all I want, but I am not perfect. I know what I like and this movie hits numerous single sweet buttons:

1) snarky women? check

2) intelligent women? check

3) imperfect women who get what I feel they deserve? check

4) raw passion? check

5) class and race consciousness? check

6) a sense of community? and hope? and a whopping melodramatic sentimentality. check. check. check.

I waited two months to rewatch it. Not two months specifically, but I did not rewatch it right away and overdose on it like I usually do with movies I love. I let it simmer in my mind. And Frankly? I was afraid my love for it was a fantasy. I couldn't believe I could love a movie this much. (Again!) I am lucky to love this movie and to love all the movies I loved.

Malabrigo Rios
100% Merino in the Playa colorway

Love. Love. Love.

All you need is love.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Yarn Whore and More (Yahn whohah en Mohah)


It seems like I've stopped treading water and am know swimming somewhere. Where, I don't know, but a place other than where I am at. Metaphysically speaking.

(I just looked up metaphysically and metaphysics on and I'm not sure it's the right word. It feels right, though, so I'm sticking with it.)

I feel impelled to blog, to take hold of the moment, to remain someone who is doing something, rather than someone who is weathering something.

Above is a lovely skein of Madtosh sock in the Fragrant colorway. (One of my WEBS purchases.) I picked up a couple of skeins of the colorway in her Vintage line that just screamed my name. Unfortunately my photos do not capture their magic.

A few weeks ago I saw a photo of a WIP in a fellow knit blogger's Flickr photostream, Peaknit. OMG! To die for project in such a beautiful medley of pea and teal greens and blues. Her rav project page noted she was undecided if the WIP was for her or to be Christmas gifted. I added my two cents (selfish knitting all-the-way!)

There was a note of wistful forlorn in her response to my directive that struck a chord with me. Her response:

"p.s. I agree - for me :) Who else do I know, on my list, that would appreciate a knitted gift? I have no knitters on my list :( "

"I have no knitters on my list :(" This can be both a good thing and a bad thing, a figurative double edged sword. If I had knitters on my list I might be impelled to knit for them in a competitive fashion. And I would loathe that just a tiny percentage more than I would enjoy it. Yet, being a lone star knitter is lonely. No matter how much I enjoy being a bubble unto myself, when I spend a few, rare moments sharing my interest in knitting and yarn with a like-minded person, it is awesomesauce.

Life is a rose with thorns. But still! A rose? A rose.


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