Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Ahead Of The Curve

I de-stacked my books this morning and flicked through them, bottom lip folded over and downward, trying to make my continuously shifting mind up on what to tackle next. Since dad's i-cord scarf will be complete very soon, and since I spent gazillion of pounds in sacks of Rowan Kidsilk Haze, it seems prudent not to buy anything further, until at least some of that fluffy stash has turned into something I can wear. But there's a problem, this one:

This is what I really would like to make out of it, Gossamer from Kidsilk Dream. The problem is a compound of problems: my recently acquired knitting skills, my impatience, my inability to stay focused to the end, lace and Kidsilk Haze itself.

This is an extremely polarising yarn, with some people swearing by it as little canaries pop out of their ears and start chirping around their heads like it's spring, and others corrugating their foreheads into Hell Boy-like scowls as they swear they will never ever knit with it again and who wants a Yeti jumper anyway? I have done little with Kidsilk Haze, most notably a little swatch of a scarf, the Hazy Fern Scarf I showed you already, but because I grew passionate (and angry) about lace very quickly, I keep thinking of Victorian Lace Today, miles and miles of Kidsilk Haze and quite possibly a metal needle stabbed through my head. I just know it is going to happen and I am too fearful to go through self-imposed tantrums to try it.

Yet, only yesterday, I was telling some knitting friends that I think it is vital that we operate ahead of the curve. Gasp, I almost surprised myself when I heard 'we must operate ahead of the curve, if only a little'. It sounded a little Joker-like, as he tells The Batman: 'I am not a monster, I am just ahead of the curve'. As I thought the principle through (my principle, but also his, for it can go in my PhD chapter), and with the clarity that only a cup of tea can instill in me, I found myself nodding in agreement, much as I hated the whole knitting lace process when I had to stop and start every three rows.

I am crazy about Fair Isle, but I don't want to jump into Fair Isle by doing some sample swatches, no madam, I want to do this:

It's like I know no middle measures, it's either an 800-mile lace shawl or no lace at all; either a 55 colour mix Fair Isle or no Fair Isle at all. However, something must be said for this leap of faith, for this enthusiasm sheltered by the crest of ignorance: if I never go for it, I'll always oooh and aaaah at the King of Fair Isle and will never attempt it myself. I am not interested in garter stitch scarves or doilies; even my forays into crochet are marred by a £ 150 expense for a blanket. What's wrong with a crocheted hairband to start with? I don't know, I just have to feel ahead of my curve until I finish the project and I can fist-pump my way above it and onto the next. And for all the stress it causes, I can highly recommend it as a recipe for Great Personal Growth Through Tantrums.
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