Have you ever been asked why you loved something or someone and found yourself at a loss for the answer? You just do, you always have, its like air, you can't imagine life before or after this love of yours. Such is the case when I think about knitting, or quilting for that matter.
I believe all art has a transformative quality, to be able to participate in the act of creation is divine and yet my experiences with fiber arts are even more remarkable. Knitters, crocheters and quilters have a long tradition of community. Their art is taught and shared and grown in groups and a part of the shared experience of their lives. When you join a knitting group or a quilt guild you don't just share your problems with purling you share your heartaches and your joys. Your scarves grow as your children and grandchildren grow, you weather death and divorce and plan weddings and bar mitzvahs. Every sweater and quilt is filled with parts of you and the women you love. It has a history before it is even worn.
Knitting is magical. A wad of fiber becomes yarn, which one stitch at a time transforms into an object of beauty (at least in the eye of the knitter) and a unique heirloom is created. There is satisfaction in the making and completion, personal growth within a community and ultimately a product that will give comfort to whomever receives it. Knitting is such a powerful way to invest ourselves in the human experience; to both create and commune. Why do I love knitting? It is the only magic I have ever really known.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Thursday, November 15, 2007
All I Really Want............
Ever remember something that hasn't entered your mind since what seems like forever? I had that experience very recently.
The psychologist in me is always fascinated by the nature/nurture phenomenon. How much of who we are is "hard-wired" in our DNA and how much is the sum total of our experiences? And better yet, how do we know? This is mostly a curiosity for me and not a real research problem I intend to solve, mostly because I suspect there will never be an answer and part of me likes the mystery that such a quandary creates. Anyway..............
Since I've sort of rebooted my life lately and find myself in the process of reinventing my life I've found myself pulling back and really asking, "what do I want?" Recently I was trying to imagine my ideal life without allowing my logical side to interrupt and the most vivid memory washed over me.
When I was in high school one of my teachers, probably an English teacher, although I don't exactly remember, asked us to write an essay about our ideal life. What it would look and feel like, what a "typical day" would be like. I can remember nearly every thought, image and feeling from that essay. What is remarkable is how similar my desires are now. The place I imagined, the life I was living, the way I was spending my time. All are things I still want today (with a few additions and modifications.) Remarkable really.
I suspect that I "forgot" this little dream because I decided at some point that is wasn't realistic or responsible. I'm sure if I had remembered it or stumbled across the actual essay I would have chalked it up to youthful idealism and dismissed it offhand, but I really was on to something. I knew what would make me happy, what would be the truest expression of myself. I knew it better as a kid than I seem to have as an adult. Amazing really. At some point I started trying to live a logical, orderly life that fit someone else's mold. I never even let myself want anything for myself somehow assuming my needs would get met in the end, or maybe disregarding them altogether. Maybe its time to listen to the inner teenager (excluding fashion choices) and pursue a life less ordinary?
The psychologist in me is always fascinated by the nature/nurture phenomenon. How much of who we are is "hard-wired" in our DNA and how much is the sum total of our experiences? And better yet, how do we know? This is mostly a curiosity for me and not a real research problem I intend to solve, mostly because I suspect there will never be an answer and part of me likes the mystery that such a quandary creates. Anyway..............
Since I've sort of rebooted my life lately and find myself in the process of reinventing my life I've found myself pulling back and really asking, "what do I want?" Recently I was trying to imagine my ideal life without allowing my logical side to interrupt and the most vivid memory washed over me.
When I was in high school one of my teachers, probably an English teacher, although I don't exactly remember, asked us to write an essay about our ideal life. What it would look and feel like, what a "typical day" would be like. I can remember nearly every thought, image and feeling from that essay. What is remarkable is how similar my desires are now. The place I imagined, the life I was living, the way I was spending my time. All are things I still want today (with a few additions and modifications.) Remarkable really.
I suspect that I "forgot" this little dream because I decided at some point that is wasn't realistic or responsible. I'm sure if I had remembered it or stumbled across the actual essay I would have chalked it up to youthful idealism and dismissed it offhand, but I really was on to something. I knew what would make me happy, what would be the truest expression of myself. I knew it better as a kid than I seem to have as an adult. Amazing really. At some point I started trying to live a logical, orderly life that fit someone else's mold. I never even let myself want anything for myself somehow assuming my needs would get met in the end, or maybe disregarding them altogether. Maybe its time to listen to the inner teenager (excluding fashion choices) and pursue a life less ordinary?
Sunday, November 11, 2007
On Beauty
In my now long litany of unimpressive jobs I have transferred to the cosmetics department at the store where I've been working. For those who know me that is a source of amusement because until recently I rarely wore makeup. The primary reason for my lack of makeup has always been that I'd rather sleep ten minutes more in the morning and cosmetics lose out as a priority. That said, I now wear makeup daily. Apparently a large number of women do.
My actual position is selling fragrances, but I help out with the cosmetics as well, and I have plenty of opportunity to watch the other salespeople with their customers. The thing that is interesting to me about the buying behavior of the cosmetics shopper is that they often come in with a problem to solve, rather than a item they want or need. When people buy sweaters they say, "I want a blue sweater to go with these pants." When women walk up to the cosmetics counter they say, "I have these deep wrinkles on my face, do you have something that will fix that?"
I'm not the first to notice this, Eve Ensler's The Body Project is a play all about this very concept. That women somehow view our bodies as a project, a problem to solve. And as much as I know this, to see it every day is heartbreaking. Most of these women are already beautiful as they are. Just yesterday a woman bought $400 worth of wrinkle creams and as she was checking out she told me she was 60. She didn't look a day over 40. Now maybe that is a testament to the effectiveness of the products, but I can't imagine a man fighting nature to the tune of $400 on a regular basis.
Of course as I drove home wondering how women get suckered into this quest for youth and beauty I had to think of myself. I'm pretty fortunate to be in reasonably good health and good shape. Yet I focus on tiny imperfections that I see through a similarly distorted lens. If I had the money would I blow large amounts on things to fix my tiny imperfections? I hate to admit that I might. The sad truth is that the beauty we see in people seldom has anything to do with their appearance. I've known some physically gorgeous women who were so ugly as people that I never even thought of them as pretty. And I've known some odd looking people who were so spectacularly beautiful in their hearts, minds and actions that I didn't even notice their odd physical appearance anymore. I guess at the end of the day a beautiful soul is much harder to package and sell.
My actual position is selling fragrances, but I help out with the cosmetics as well, and I have plenty of opportunity to watch the other salespeople with their customers. The thing that is interesting to me about the buying behavior of the cosmetics shopper is that they often come in with a problem to solve, rather than a item they want or need. When people buy sweaters they say, "I want a blue sweater to go with these pants." When women walk up to the cosmetics counter they say, "I have these deep wrinkles on my face, do you have something that will fix that?"
I'm not the first to notice this, Eve Ensler's The Body Project is a play all about this very concept. That women somehow view our bodies as a project, a problem to solve. And as much as I know this, to see it every day is heartbreaking. Most of these women are already beautiful as they are. Just yesterday a woman bought $400 worth of wrinkle creams and as she was checking out she told me she was 60. She didn't look a day over 40. Now maybe that is a testament to the effectiveness of the products, but I can't imagine a man fighting nature to the tune of $400 on a regular basis.
Of course as I drove home wondering how women get suckered into this quest for youth and beauty I had to think of myself. I'm pretty fortunate to be in reasonably good health and good shape. Yet I focus on tiny imperfections that I see through a similarly distorted lens. If I had the money would I blow large amounts on things to fix my tiny imperfections? I hate to admit that I might. The sad truth is that the beauty we see in people seldom has anything to do with their appearance. I've known some physically gorgeous women who were so ugly as people that I never even thought of them as pretty. And I've known some odd looking people who were so spectacularly beautiful in their hearts, minds and actions that I didn't even notice their odd physical appearance anymore. I guess at the end of the day a beautiful soul is much harder to package and sell.
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