"Yes, I said it's fine before
I don't think so no more
I said it's fine before
I've changed my mind
I take it back
Erase and rewind
'cause I've been changing my mind"
(Erase & rewind - The Cardigans)
I'm normally quite messy and my stash have been suffering because of it.
By tiding it up, I regain one whole box: what barely fit into 4 boxes, it is now comfortably snuggled into 3 boxes plus a "swatch-yarn-bowl". I got a whole empty box and in less than 5 days I'm flying to Australia. Nuff said.
I am also 2,37€ richer (in 5 and 2 cents coins), got 2 extra crochet hooks and one USB stick I thought lost.
While I was separating skeins and balls of yarns, putting them into new ziploc bags and than in the boxes, I came across a good number of UFO, unfinished objects. UFO of the worse kind, actually: project I didn't like to begin with, but started anyway and came to loathe midway through the knitting, yet couldn't admit to myself I made a mistake; because of that I couldn't bring myself to frog them and I start hiding them into the stash, rather than keeping them with the other work in progress I have.
Out of sight out of mind, right?
Well, yesterday morning I had to look at them, peering through the project bags, looking so miserable and abandoned.
And I thought, so what?
So what if the shawl didn't worked out as I wanted to? So what if the designer put a completely wrong gauge info on the pattern, so that the cardi would fit a real whale, rather than just a overweight human?
So what if the sweater that I liked on the magazine is ugly to watch when I wear it?
It is a cruelly honest mirror of many side of my life: fear of not being accepted for what I am, need to feel loved, my hunger for love had me hanging to many things, behaviors and situation that I knew wrong, but that I couldn't let go of out of fear and cowardice.
I'm becoming aware of this now and it's scary. I don't want to put to much meaning into objects, I spend already too much time thinking about the meaning of words and actions, I am not sure I got time for pondering about the hidden symbolism of material things. Still, in that moment, those things matched exactly how I felt inside about many things: I don't want to do them, I don't really enjoy them, yet I drag along in fear of other's people reaction. How stupid can I get?
And that's when it hit home. I've been a moron, even more than usual.
I stared at that miserable pile and told them: you! I don't like you, you're not completed and I'm never going to finish you anyway.
As insane as talking to some wool may sounds, trust me, it's highly therapeutic.
I felt better, I felt a heavy weight has been lifted off my chest: is it really that bad admitting that I enjoy reading EZ's books, but I find her patterns quite atrocious?
No, it's not so bad, I bet I'm not the only one in this world.
Will somebody wait for me after work and beat me into a pulp because of my dislike for the pi shawl?
The simple idea of a knitters' duel with DPNs in the depressing surroundings of Cologno had me laughing and made me realize that yeah, it was a silly thing of me to hold onto this.
So today I frogged them all: shawl, cardigans, gloves... they all went through a complete deconstruction. Now they're ready to be used again, but not immediately: next time I'll knit them with more wisdom and more respect, but always with the notion I might not like what i see in the end and take them back through the yarn winder.