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When you’re nervous, some say you should imagine your audience in their underwear. I think this sounds awkward. And ineffective. But, who am I to judge?
When I’m out in public at a soccer game or sitting in a meeting or waiting in an airport, I do imagine everyone around me . . . knitting. Yep. Fully clothed, but totally immersed in the fiber arts. At some point along my knitting journey, perhaps when I read Kate Davies book about Haps and piecework or when I learned about the mitten quotas in Iceland, I began to look around me and imagine the scads of knitwear that we could collectively produce. What if everyone was knitting? Would we be happier? More productive, surely. Would we dread knitting as an imposed social requirement? Would we all be a little more zen?
And this question led me down another rabbit hole: thinking about all of the stitches I fit into the interstices–not just the evening marathon sessions, but the quiet moments waiting in a line, or during a car trip the the grocery store, or sitting on the porch in the sunshine for a quick morning work break. All of those tiny moments add up to sweaters and socks and shawls. As my husband would say: it’s like the strangely improbably task of eating a bowl of soup one spoonful at a time; and then suddenly it’s done and you’re full! Ok, maybe that’s a weird analogy, but you get my point. Little stitches, after little stitches, adding up to make something beautiful and warm and colorful.