Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Sock, Deconstructed

I have been accused (and not entirely wrongly) of being stubborn from time to time. And when it comes to my fiber creations, I am especially reluctant to admit defeat.

This is especially apparent when, contrary to my own eyes and my sense of space and time, I will continue stitching a sleeve for a sweater I am making for my sister even though the sleeve has grown long enough to fit an adult giraffe's leg! Eventually, I will admit to myself that something might be wrong and re-think the sleeve.

But once I have actually finished a project, the piece always seem to take on an existence, comes into its own, if you will and admitting it is "wrong" in some way seems like passing judgement on it. I mean, doesn't a jacket that could not possibly fit anyone in real life have the same right to exist as one worn proudly every day? Afterall, it's not the jacket's fault.

That said, you can imagine the emotional turmoil I experienced when it came to the Shi Bui socks I made early in my attempts to discover the seemingly elusive well-fitted crocheted sock. Although they looked like socks, they would not fit comfortably into a shoe like a sock should. And afterall, shouldn't that be the sole function of a sock? (Pardon the pun.) Maybe I could have kept them in a box somewhere, only to pull them out every now and then like an old photograph and "remember when..."

I was startled - shaken, really - when I realized for the first time that I was actually considering unravelling the socks to re-work the yarn into a sock I could use as a sock. What was I thinking?? Eliminate a creation? It's not like I need the yarn, given my stash.

But then a sense of peace came over me when I realized that the maybe the sock wanted to be re-worked - kinda like plastic surgery for wool, or something. Yeah, that's it! The wool had been denied becoming the useful sock it was meant to be. Just because it had the unfortunate luck of landing into my fumbling and unlearned hands, should I force it to remain in a form less than it aspires to be? How could I be so cruel?

In a rare act of submission, I quickly reclaimed the wool to its balled form in attempt to set things right with the universe and cleanse my karma.

Now, about that jacket...



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