More specifically concerning: knitting
Crambe repetita (16)
7 May 2010, around 3.04.
Bruce Chatwin, In Patagonia.
2 December 2010, around 8.42.
Watch the sunrise. Up and coffee, mending the lining of a jacket,1, attend sessions at conference, re-pack bags,2 knit on the fuzzy short-sleeve pullover, go out to coffee and read, finally finish all the tagging & categorizing on this very site that I have put off for two years already.3The fabric is almost rotten, and […]
9 October 2018, around 15.14.
Risible mending. The whole question of fashion, slow or fast or pedestrian, reminds me of something Henry James puts into the mouth of Mme Merle: …you will see that every human being has his shell, and that you must take the shell into account. By the shell I mean the whole envelope of circumstances. There […]
15 May 2019, around 6.06.
There is only one sweater that I make, really. I try to follow different patterns, but the result usually ends up being more or less the sweater that I always make. This holds true for other things too – the ways in which I work, the ways in which I read, usw. I try other […]
10 January 2020, around 8.57.
William Orpen, ‘Group associated with the New English Art Club’ What is truth? said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an answer. —Francis Bacon, ‘Of Truth’ There was an odd passage in a woodworking memoir I read because I was taking the long way ’round in trying to think about craftsmanship. The woodworker had […]
20 May 2020, around 8.30.
These hours of solitude and meditation are the only ones in the day when I am entirely myself, and for myself, without diversion, or obstacle; and when I can truly say, I am what nature designed me. —J.-J. Rousseau (Reveries of the Solitary Walker) It is over a year later and it is the same […]
16 June 2021, around 15.20.
Awake at ten past four with the clear impression, through earplugs, that someone has spoken my name. Light of the lamp slowly dawning. The dog nudges the rattling doorknob, then click-click-click away down the hall. A trip to the necessary reveals nothing new, and a short doze passes the time before the alarum. One stares […]