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?


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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?


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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.


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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)


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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 www.m-w.com 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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