Intuitive Knitting
After staging the initial knitting class at work I worried that the excitement of my students might have waned a bit. As I said, I didn’t see in anyone’s eyes that look of fiber-rabidity that I associate with a true believer. But, Sister Sue encouraged me to remember that for many (herself included) the love of fiber starts out as a slow warming and builds up to a raging fire over time. Well, she was right. Over the course of the following weeks, nearly everyone who had been in the class approached me to say they definitely wanted to continue. I said, okay, you just let me know when. I have my supplies here everyday. At first one or two people would grab me once a week. Then a couple times a week three or four people would want to get together. Now, I am knitting almost everyday of the week. I find myself whiling away my lunch hour with nascent knitters and my inbox is peppered with e-mails from coworkers announcing their progress and/or purchases. One of the young women confessed yesterday that she got up early and knit a few rows while watching the news and then talked about how much it calmed her. I just wanted to hug her.
Because a couple of people have expressed an interest in crocheting, I’ve been picking up my trusty hook more often these days. It’s been awhile, so I feel a bit like I’m rediscovering an old friend. The most surprising thing is how natural it feels in my hands. It was the first thing I learned to do with “a little bit of string” and the woman who taught me instilled an intuitive understanding of the stitches, what they do, why they do it, and because of that, crocheting feels a bit less mysterious than knitting to me.
As I was thinking about this, I happened upon Tricky Tricot’s latest post — a review of an intro book on knitting and crochet. One section in particular really stood out. He said that while the book did a good job explaining the “how’s” of knitting, it failed to address the “why’s,” removing that intuitive factor that helps us plow our way through a poorly written, barely decipherable pattern. Or, gasp, to branch out on our own and try to create something unique.
I have mentioned in the past this feeling of being stuck, of not knowing how to get from one place to another with the knitting. Or, of getting into a really complicated section of a pattern and feeling as if I just need to keep moving forward blindly hoping it will all make sense as I go. Sometimes it does. Many times it doesn’t. Then I set the project down, I get out my books, I consult online sources, I e-mail a couple of bloggers, and only then am I back on my merry way. I sometimes feel as if I am learning in a vacuum. Books and blogs can only tell me so much…
What I really wish I had is a mentor, a veteran knitter or designer along the lines of an Anna Zilboorg or Elizabeth Zimmerman. At these moments, I also really wish I had a grandmother, someone to explain the art in not only knitting or sewing or crochet, but how to bake a hearty sourdough bread from scratch or how to get grape juice stains out of a linen tablecloth. This was the advantage that generations before us had — grandmothers and mothers who taught them these skills. Oh, I’m sure that generational passing on of domestic knowledge still happens, but not very often. Not that I want to relegate knitting to the realm of the domestic, but I think that what draws me so much to this art form, is the inherent practicality of it. A way in which to drape your loved ones in the warmth of a little woven magic. To give others the gift of your time and your hands.
I have high hopes that the move will expose me to more of a knitting, spinning, fibery community and help provide places I can gain the more advanced skills I am longing to learn. But for the next 36 days, it just me and my yarn curled up in a cozy chair in the home of my dear friend who is providing me with a safe place to lay my head until such time that I can finally be home with my sweetie (whom I miss more than I can tell).
November 18th, 2005 at 2:51 pm
Lovely post. I’ve been teaching someone to knit, too.
In the abscence of a grandmother, I am making an assumption that grape juice and red wine respond to the same thing. Hold over the sink and pour boiling water through the stain. This and knitting are the 2 forms of magic I know how to do (or at least that is how my partner describes them). It works even if you wait until the next day (and who wants to clean up when you’ve been drinking red wine in circumstances requiring a white tablecloth?). I have also spilled red wine on a white rug at a friend’s house and pouring white wine over it immediately did work (confirming a rumour we’d heard and thought was worth a try). I can’t help with sourdough bread, I’m afraid.
November 18th, 2005 at 5:06 pm
Both my mother and grandmother knit and crocheted and baked and all those wonderful things, but sadly I wasn’t smart enough in my youth take advantage of learning from them, and both had passed away before I was 25. Now that I do knit and have a child of my own, I miss them in a whole different way. My most ambitious knitting project to date was a Christening blanket for my nephew I made in the hope of passing on some of their love with my own. I love how you describe knitting as a way to drape your loved ones in the gift of a little woven magic. It’s perfect.
I’m finding that for me, some of the blogs I’ve found give me that kind of feeling of having a mentor out there, and like you I’m sort of working on finding one who’s less remote. I’m fortunate to have a small, comfortable LYS not too far from home, and the ladies who run it know I’ve only been knitting for a few years. They’re very encouraging when I go in looking for a new project, and I have absolutely no compunction about rushing in with a ‘please help me I don’t know what I’ve done and I can’t fix it’ problem in my hands. I’ve done it more than once.
November 19th, 2005 at 5:20 pm
My grandmother and mother both knit and crochet, but neither would teach me because I’m left handed and they’re righties, and they thought it would be too difficult. Which I thought was hooey because if you mirror a righty, what do you get?
I love that you’re passing on your skills and your love of the art. Knitting is the perfect expression of magic for many people. It’s so meditative and just lends itself to ritual work. I think the world would be a happier place if everyone took a few minutes to knit at the beginning and end of everyday!
November 19th, 2005 at 6:23 pm
I think what you’re doing with your knitting class is so great. I have two women who work for me and when they first started, neither knew how to knit or crochet. I taught one how to crochet and the other how to knit (and now the first one wants to learn to knit too) and it is extremely rewarding to see the “raging fire” in its early stages.
November 21st, 2005 at 10:06 am
Listen, you’re going to be near Carol and Joe and the whole Rosie’s Yarn Cellar crew - just you wait. You cannot imagine a more helpful and encouraging (one might say “enabling”) group of people. You lucky woman.