I have a theory about yarn. It is a silly theory, I have to admit, but one powerful enough to structure an important part of my knitting practice. I believe that most of the yarn that happens to come into my hands is here for a reason: it wants to become something, and my purpose as a knitter is to find and make the perfect match.
The problem with this theory is that it leads me to be more interested in the “finding” part, and less in the actual “making”. Once I think I’ve solved a skein’s existential problem, the rest boils down to less exciting, practical details. Let’s take for example that beautiful skein of Jaipur silk I was talking about last time. I knew it wanted to be a summer scarf, and that my mission was to find the right stitch pattern. I finally settled for linen stitch, cast on, and knitted a few rows, on and off. I believe I made the right choice, found the correct needles and tension, and the results seem quite convincing. The fabric looks lovely on both sides, and there’s a nice zigzag effect I hadn’t anticipated.
The challenge now is to finish the damn thing – which, by the way, has become more problematic since the sweater episode – and not let it dwell in the long dark tea-time much of my knitwork seems sentenced to these days.