Cocoons and emergence
Dear Eyeknit,
Imagine that I am a larva, sleeping in its cocoon, but just beginning to emerge. I like the fibery analogy of having been woven into a cocoon and now trying to wiggle my way out of it. I've felt a lot like that, sort of away from the world and recently, digging and crawling and poking my way back towards it. Let's hope that I emerge as something beautiful, eh? Because otherwise, it won't have been worth the wait.
I have, of late, been knitting again, a reliable sign of my returning mental stability and well-being. In fact, I'm almost overwhelmed with projects to share with you so I'm going to start with a very tiny one. A square for an afghan.
But first, a little background. Some of my favorite books ever are the Discworld novels, by Terry Pratchett. They are a little like a comfort blanket to me, and I reread them when the world is too much with me for their marvelous wit and magical worlds and happy endings. Then, soon after my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimers, Terry Pratchett announced that he had been diagnosed with Alzheimers. He is only 59. My mother is only 68. I felt such a wave of impotent rage and sadness and loss.
Then, the marvelous people at Ravelry, particularly the absolutely smashing Shirley, who is known on Ravelry as CherryRed, came up with the idea for making Terry Pratchett--who happens to be a knitter--an afghan and each of the squares would reference one of the very many Discworld books. It was exactly the sort of outlet I needed, since knitting cures everything, you konw. And I chose as my design a corruption of moment from a book called Soul Music when an elderly wizard, newly infected by the beat of Music with Rocks In, made himself a long wizarding jacket which read: Live Fats Die Yognu (because he got confused while working from the back). And here it is.
And then the amazing, marvellous Shirley collected all these squares, sewed them all together, backed them, contacted (repeatedly) Terry Pratchett's publicity person, and then just today, managed to present the afghan--in person--to Terry Pratchett.
It's huge and wonderful and you can see all the squares here, on Flickr and on Ravelry, you can peek at this thread to read all about it.
But to get the full story, please read this post on Shirley's blog and give her all the love she deserves for making this project happen.
Did I say it was a tiny project? I lied. It's huge. And I feel like fluttering around the room.
Imagine that I am a larva, sleeping in its cocoon, but just beginning to emerge. I like the fibery analogy of having been woven into a cocoon and now trying to wiggle my way out of it. I've felt a lot like that, sort of away from the world and recently, digging and crawling and poking my way back towards it. Let's hope that I emerge as something beautiful, eh? Because otherwise, it won't have been worth the wait.
I have, of late, been knitting again, a reliable sign of my returning mental stability and well-being. In fact, I'm almost overwhelmed with projects to share with you so I'm going to start with a very tiny one. A square for an afghan.
But first, a little background. Some of my favorite books ever are the Discworld novels, by Terry Pratchett. They are a little like a comfort blanket to me, and I reread them when the world is too much with me for their marvelous wit and magical worlds and happy endings. Then, soon after my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimers, Terry Pratchett announced that he had been diagnosed with Alzheimers. He is only 59. My mother is only 68. I felt such a wave of impotent rage and sadness and loss.
Then, the marvelous people at Ravelry, particularly the absolutely smashing Shirley, who is known on Ravelry as CherryRed, came up with the idea for making Terry Pratchett--who happens to be a knitter--an afghan and each of the squares would reference one of the very many Discworld books. It was exactly the sort of outlet I needed, since knitting cures everything, you konw. And I chose as my design a corruption of moment from a book called Soul Music when an elderly wizard, newly infected by the beat of Music with Rocks In, made himself a long wizarding jacket which read: Live Fats Die Yognu (because he got confused while working from the back). And here it is.
It's huge and wonderful and you can see all the squares here, on Flickr and on Ravelry, you can peek at this thread to read all about it.But to get the full story, please read this post on Shirley's blog and give her all the love she deserves for making this project happen.
Did I say it was a tiny project? I lied. It's huge. And I feel like fluttering around the room.







