(no subject)
So.
Life is interesting. Life is always interesting, though, isn't it?
I've been knitting... I found a pattern for a lace edging that I am turning into a pair of spring/summer gauntlet-y hand"warmer" thingers (cuz I don't actually want to insulate my hands during the spring/summer... I'll post a pic when they're done, probably.
I also found a pattern for a lace shawl I want to make. After I'm done making a second coffee-cup sleeve, that is. But I already got the yarn for it and I am excited! :-)
And I mostly finished the dish towel I'm working on for my mom (but shh, it's a secret - her gift for Mothers' Day!). It's just drying the rest of the way, now, as I'm blocking it (in a really-really-beginner sort of way). I still will need to wash it and stuff, and I need to knit two bobbles and sew them on (as button-y things, since it's a hanging dish towel, i.e. it can loop over the oven handle)... I guess I'll post a pic of that, too, sometime. Maybe.
Over all, I really like lace knitting, I think, and sometime I will have to get some lace-weight yarn and smaller knitting needles so I can make some really fine lace.
In other news, I've been doing a lot of stuff for VAWPP... I'm in a play, I'm organizing a VAWPP game show for spring weekend (as an alternative event, at Late Night), and this Friday I'm going to Stafford High School to give some workshops with a couple of my VAWPP friends... So much stuff!! argh.
Hm. I was going to come up with more categories and things that are going on, but I can't really... I'm supposed to be reading Part 3 of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness right now, because I have Brit Lit in an hour and 45 minutes... But eh.
Today smells like spring. *sigh* I spew the same cliches every year. I think I'm just spellbound by spring and summer. I'm spellbound by a lot, I guess. I question whether my feelings are real, or some construction of the poet within me wishing for some fantastical ideal. I fantasize a lot. Or I consider reality a lot. You know double-blind studies? Or how scientists test other scientists' theories to confirm that there is evidence to support them? I sometimes wish that I could get a second-party confirmation. As though that would somehow reify my own...nevermind.
That all doesn't matter.
What matters is this: fuck labeling. I know and recognize the feelings that well up and push my seams to near-bursting, and I trust. I have to trust because that is all I can do. To run away from an unresolved situation just because the American child in me is impatient (yes, I ate an American baby. It was delicious.), would be foolish. Life moves on, life changes all things... I so want to allow that... I think there's some merit in the (boiled down) Buddhist philosophy: attachment causes suffering. It's difficult to go with the flow, but it is a goal of mine.
And ultimately, none of this is up to me. So a little reminder to myself:
Little Bird, you visit in the night
bringing spirit songs and light.
But ah, my ceiling is the sky!
Here you swoop; there you flit and fly.
I will not tie your feet nor clip your wings,
nor even cage you in filigree.
For Little Bird, sweet joy you bring--
sweetest, and I love you best, when free.
Life is interesting. Life is always interesting, though, isn't it?
I've been knitting... I found a pattern for a lace edging that I am turning into a pair of spring/summer gauntlet-y hand"warmer" thingers (cuz I don't actually want to insulate my hands during the spring/summer... I'll post a pic when they're done, probably.
I also found a pattern for a lace shawl I want to make. After I'm done making a second coffee-cup sleeve, that is. But I already got the yarn for it and I am excited! :-)
And I mostly finished the dish towel I'm working on for my mom (but shh, it's a secret - her gift for Mothers' Day!). It's just drying the rest of the way, now, as I'm blocking it (in a really-really-beginner sort of way). I still will need to wash it and stuff, and I need to knit two bobbles and sew them on (as button-y things, since it's a hanging dish towel, i.e. it can loop over the oven handle)... I guess I'll post a pic of that, too, sometime. Maybe.
Over all, I really like lace knitting, I think, and sometime I will have to get some lace-weight yarn and smaller knitting needles so I can make some really fine lace.
In other news, I've been doing a lot of stuff for VAWPP... I'm in a play, I'm organizing a VAWPP game show for spring weekend (as an alternative event, at Late Night), and this Friday I'm going to Stafford High School to give some workshops with a couple of my VAWPP friends... So much stuff!! argh.
Hm. I was going to come up with more categories and things that are going on, but I can't really... I'm supposed to be reading Part 3 of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness right now, because I have Brit Lit in an hour and 45 minutes... But eh.
Today smells like spring. *sigh* I spew the same cliches every year. I think I'm just spellbound by spring and summer. I'm spellbound by a lot, I guess. I question whether my feelings are real, or some construction of the poet within me wishing for some fantastical ideal. I fantasize a lot. Or I consider reality a lot. You know double-blind studies? Or how scientists test other scientists' theories to confirm that there is evidence to support them? I sometimes wish that I could get a second-party confirmation. As though that would somehow reify my own...nevermind.
That all doesn't matter.
What matters is this: fuck labeling. I know and recognize the feelings that well up and push my seams to near-bursting, and I trust. I have to trust because that is all I can do. To run away from an unresolved situation just because the American child in me is impatient (yes, I ate an American baby. It was delicious.), would be foolish. Life moves on, life changes all things... I so want to allow that... I think there's some merit in the (boiled down) Buddhist philosophy: attachment causes suffering. It's difficult to go with the flow, but it is a goal of mine.
And ultimately, none of this is up to me. So a little reminder to myself:
Little Bird, you visit in the night
bringing spirit songs and light.
But ah, my ceiling is the sky!
Here you swoop; there you flit and fly.
I will not tie your feet nor clip your wings,
nor even cage you in filigree.
For Little Bird, sweet joy you bring--
sweetest, and I love you best, when free.