Make Something with Yarn

I immediately felt that phrase when I saw the picture of the above crocheted trivet on a way cool artists blog last night.

Noticing the vibrant colors I wanted to make a similar beautiful thing however it’s extremely inconvenient that I don’t know how to crochet. I can only weave using words, spinning my own yarn, one of the numerous tall tales that swirls around me in fragmented sentences.

Sometimes so fragmented that my friend, who has the patience of a saint, will abruptly say, “Finish your thought with words.” The guilt I feel in his confusion slams me into his reality. I would hate having to understand spontaneous not understandable phrases fraught with excitement at the prospect of a new arrangement of words.

Words whirl, that’s just what they do until they become attached to some emotion that I am trying to convey and then the space I’m in gets crowded with unspeakables…..half sentences that trip out of my mouth with right words, wrong words and animation that vibrates from my being.

It matters not if Love is attached although it does appear that while some words make it out intended to share some just echo around my heart unable to be free and exposed for what they are. Amazing. I remember dropping everything and running one day to a hatbox in my closet that’s filled with letters, notes and cards, 20 years after my Grandma was gone. I had the most disturbing thought that maybe she didn’t know I loved her. She was positively Victorian and I was a bit afraid of her yet I needed proof or it would have tormented me. I did find a card I had written to her and she saved, saying I love you……

I suppose that exemplifies that inner yarn can be so deep that it takes a while to unravel. Knotted up emotion that arrives only when the fabric of the yarn is soft and not pulled in too many directions.

Forget about it if there is fear attached. Then words hide as I hide from confrontation and the unpredictable reaction of the common man. Predictability predicates whether or not it’s safe. A yarn that’s tied to instability is colorful but not always able to hold it together.

That’s what this is about anyway, reaction to a trivet that was put together beautiful, remember? My reaction to a trivet and the desire to spin a yarn or a design that sparks a yarn in my heart. The stitches that hold it together are made with the same hand that takes it apart. And Monday………I will take the step and buy myself some yarn and a crochet needle. Just because.