Flow

The knitting resurgence took this world by storm. Now the trend is to take up spinning your own yarn. It's a natural trend. It flows like the gentle spiral of twist flowing up into a lofty, airy batt of fiber.

Flow. That is the perfect word. That is why I love what I do. I love watching all those fibers, fibers once worn on a living being, lovingly petted by their human caretakers, shorn by skilled hands, painstakingly washed by my own two hands, flowing gently through my fingers.

Even when the skein is finished, it's still in motion. I hold it in my hands for only a moment, and like a divining rod, it naturally moves with the invisible currents of destiny. I know instantly, this is a gift for my friend, this is for me to wear against my skin, this needs to go out into the unknown world.

How does the sonnet go? "Eyes to be my being shall rehearse" Fingers to be my yarn shall caress. Someone I will never meet will glide their fingers over each inch of the yarn I spun. Those fingers will be guided by the same flow. Their handy work will move on to a infants feet, or a grandma's shoulders. Those feet will grow and those shoulders will raise with one final inhale. A loved ones hands will sort mementos. A treasure will be found at the local Good Will. A tattered fragment will be reborn as a felted purse.

Eventually, it will flow back to the earth, as everything does.

That is why I am in love with handspun.

Peace