Monday, June 4, 2012

God with Needles

I've had a fair amount of experience recently with finishing projects.  Stress about my family moving to the Bay Area has led to me spending many hours in my room, watching the Green brothers on YouTube and hammering out projects, taking frequent breaks to shake out my hands and relax my wrists. (Remember this, knitters: to avoid carpal tunnel, take a break every half hour!!)

Something that my mom can roll her eyes and tell you is that, every time I finish something, my fingers start itching to pick up the next project.  I get so used to having needles and yarn moving through my hands that suddenly not having that makes me so.  Very.  ANTSY.  (It gets pretty bad.)

I can't always decide whether I like the process or the finished product more.  I know that knitting takes a $#!#-ton of time, so I try to carefully choose my projects so that I know I'll like--and more importantly, wear--whatever it is I make.  There are things that I've sewn (because the process is so fun) that I haven't worn more than once or twice, and just hang in my closet hating me for my refusal to wear them.  I've learned my lesson, and now I'm very careful to pick things I *know* I will wear.  The satisfaction of finishing a fun project becomes bittersweet with the realization  that while I like the look on its own, I don't particularly want to wear it a lot.



Sexay!
My biggest success in the DIY department recently left me with a serious case of the Finished.  After finding myself feeling cold in the winter nights of SoCal, I decided to knit up a simple bell-sleeved wool sweater to keep warm.  "Oh, I'll just whip this up over the six weeks I'm home" I thought.  "This'll be done before I head back to school, no sweat!"

Bleh.  That was naive and silly.  I finished the thing last week.

I had a back and a sleeve taunting me from my closet at school for the rest of the semester, and they continued to do so when I packed them in a box to ship home.  Getting back to my family's house and finishing a scarf for my girlfriend (hai love :3) meant that the taunting could cease and the working begin.  I knocked out the rest of the sweater in about a week, and sewed it all together in a matter of hours (yes, hours; I'd never sewn knit pieces together before).  I blocked* it and that was when the obsessing began.  Hovering over the drying thing, both scared to touch it and wanting to hold it in my hands, I would go into the laundry room randomly just to look at the thing.  THIS WAS A CREATION FROM MY HAAAAANDS.  Gives me a sense of what it was like for God to set the universe in motion. :P

Just today I finished a slouch cap, and it's currently drying on the counter in the room my dad's staying in while we're looking for a new house.  It's too small for my head, but I keep looking at it and feeling that swell of pride.  That mini-obsession that comes with creating something new.

And looking at my haul from K2TOG today, I'm gonna be doing a lot of obsessing this summer.

I have almost eight football fields of yarn in the purple stuff alone.


*Blocking: Wetting a freshly knit piece and shaping it to better fit the wearer

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