I felt like a child in a candyshop, a kaleidoscope of colors. I ran my fingers around the rough edges of the yarn, stout and warm. It would live around me eventually, reminding me of winters past and winters to come. The comfort of the yarn was familiar in its look and its smell: Sunday afternoons with Grandma on the couch, the smell of pulao floating through the hallway, my 10 year old self taking cold metal needles, wrapping the frayed yarn. Knit 1, Purl 2, Knit 1, Purl 2 , staring intently, scrunching my face from concentrating so hard. As I got better, the act of knitting became a ride, fluid and automated. knit 1, purl 2, knit 1, purl 2, knit 1, purl 2. Textured yarn hugging my cold metal needles. Clink clink, clink clink, went the needles as I quickened my pace, yarn like a fruit by the foot unraveling. -NJ
You are a ball of yarn. You are compact and quiet but as you unravel, you take up space. You are soft. You are strong. Don't let anyone mistake you for anything lesser. You feel like home. At the end of a long day, you are there, and quite, and reassuring. You are shape shifting. Weaving yourself through needles as if their ends do not even touch you. Your softness cannot be torn. Your patterns will not be undone. You are warm. You are home. You are strong. -AD
The yarn reminded me of genes. Wrapping tightly round the fiber of my being, of my I, in and out, in and out, until a girl, and then a woman, spins silently from mom and dad, from mom and dad.
I remember falling asleep on the train to the rhythm of your needles, in and out, in and out, until I made it home and wondered what it'd turn into later. I'll never know, but your furrowed brow and tight lips told me that whatever it was, it would be something special for someone special. Dad used to braid my hair when mom was away, in and out, in and out, and he'd laugh, proud, and I'd laugh, embarrassed, the knitted knotted braids a mess upon my head, the schoolyard. The smell of hard-boiled eggs in salt-water as I left home, knowing too young how people look at others and think cunty thoughts.
My mom used to peel the green beans... -KM