Beginning.

I'm not sure what it is about knitting that's entranced me so. I started less than a month ago and I'm absolutely gone now. Nothing can save me from the grasp of the fiber arts. It's not even so much the act of knitting I adore so much. In fact I've spent more time reading about knitting, browsing for needles and yarn and books, and talking about knitting than actually knitting. My list of completed projects hasn't even reached double digits yet. Maybe I'm more of a process and preparation person than I thought.

I'm the kind of person who has huge issues finishing things I start so I've had pangs of worry a few times about whether I'll actually stick with knitting. Is all this money I've spent going to waste, I've already told people I do it so what will they think of me, I'll have wasted all this time and effort, why should I even bother, I'm an awful person....then my YouTube subscriptions show a new knitting video from Judy Graham, my heart skips a beat, and I remember that knitting will probably be in my life until I'm buried in the ground, and even then I better be buried with my at least one pair of needles and some yarn or I'm going to have to haunt some people. And I don't want cheap plastic needles and scratchy artificial yarn either, it better be Addis and some nice merino.

Maybe it's not so bad being that kind of person though? Sure, I might not accomplish a huge list of great things that someone who spends their whole life reaching for a single goal would, but I'll have a much bigger list of experiences and hobbies. I might not ever actually finish learning another language, or finish High School and College, or become a virtuoso guitarist, but if I had fun with things like knitting or language study while I was doing them and then they're not fun any more...maybe that makes the time I spent worth it? Maybe the value of living your life happily toward a single large goal and living your life happily toward many small goals are both equally valid and fulfilling. I guess I won't find out until I'm dead. If I'm not fulfilled I'll just have to say "Well fuck, maybe I should have stuck with that guitar building school.", croak off, and curse myself after I'm no longer corporeal.

It's far too late night for philosophy. I need to turn on Blackwater Park on my iPod and finish moving boxes into the basement. Then I can cast on my third camouflage hat without feeling guilty. Ugh. I hate casting on. Someone invent a cast-on machine and send me one please, I'll make you a hat.