Sometimes I get so very tired of knitting.
No, I do not tire of knitting - that simple enjoyable activity that involves a ball of string and two pointy sticks - but I do tire of certain aspects involved in knitting.
I tire of the one-upmanship I see in the knitting community. That you need to be knitting the latest viral pattern craze in precious hand-spun unicorn yarn from a small island off the coast of Chile to be a cool knitter. Or that coolness equates you knitting crazy Estonian lace at knitting group whilst shrugging off its difficulty with a modest "oh, it's straightforward, really" and frantically counting in your head. I'm currently that last knitter (although my stitch pattern is straightforward, honestly) and I'm even knitting my crazy Estonian lace in an expensive designer yarn. Where is this one-upmanship coming from?
I tire of the idea of "a knitting community" too.
I was recently contacted by another knitter who asked me to share a copyrighted pattern "to support our knitting community". Really? Just because I knit, I am not automatically your new best friend. We share a common interest but I am not just a knitter. My identity has so many other markers that I do not feel automatic kinship with anyone who knits.
Besides, the very idea of a "community" is ridiculous when I see these self-confessed 'yarn snobs' and 'knitteristas' roll their eyes at seeing someone knitting a baby jacket on straight needles using cheap mass-market yarn. Isn't "the knitting community" just another way of saying "exclusive club"?
So, honestly, I needed something to cleanse my palate. I wanted to be reminded why I love knitting so much.
I took my inspiration from the recent Rowan magazine - it is actually turning into one of my favourite resources together with Knit1 Fall/Winter 2008 - and specifically Kaffe Fassett's Unwind Wrap. I looked in my stash, uncovered some yarns that went well together and I sat down to knit. I had no plan, no pattern, and I just used up some spare balls from the stash. No fuss, all freedom.
It felt great. I felt great.
I'm going to weave in my gazillion ends now and then get my partner to shoot a few photos of me wearing my newest project - but I'm not going to make out that it is the most exclusive, most amazing, or super-difficult project ever. Knitting it made me feel good and wearing it (despite the many loose ends) makes me feel good.
But at the end it is just knitting, you know?

I have learned several lessons today.
1) I was right to buy more fabric for my first quilt. Remember I
3) I find the sewing part very relaxing and intuitive compared to the cutting. Nothing can go wrong now. Except if you sew wrong bits together but that is what a seam-ripper is for.
6) And when I get home, I will take a ubiquitous photo of my semi-finished craft project in The Usual Spot.
In knitting, a jumper looks more-or-less the same whether you do it in green, blue or orange.
What a lovely day.
The postman brought me the April issue of UK knitting magazine
I continue to be chuffed about my
I want to share a project made by a friend from my knitting group. I was lucky enough to see
My main knitting group is actually so big that it has several divisions: I met the blanket maker when I happened upon the South Side division at the Tramway. I was only there to take down my knitted sculpture but was very, very pleased to see so many familiar and lovely faces. My partner was on hand to help me and was so amused by what he called "a tribal encounter" that he had to take a photo..
Yesterday I went shopping for supplies for 

