Bliss can arise from the most unexpected situations. I never suspected that untangling the Ghordian Knot-like mess you see here could be such an absolute mesmerizing pleasure. Unlike Alexander, I am not using force to meet my challenge, but instead discovering how much patience I indeed possess.
Years ago, my friend in Japan sent me several lovely, tidy skeins of indigo dyed cotton yarn that he found in Kyoto, at a family run shop called Aizenkobo. The worsted weight single ply yarn was beautiful and soft, but when I started knitting with it, it turned my fingers blue. I put it aside, planning to wash it, but somehow it made its way to the bottom of a box, and only re-emerged when I moved to the studio.
I felt guilty about neglecting this treasure for so long and, since I was dyeing some other yarn, and had the Synthrapol out anyway, was inspired to give it a wash. I made sure that it was tied securely, and then, not thinking clearly, threw it in the washer. At the end of the cycle, I removed the impossibly snarled mass you see here.
Ooofff. It took three days to dry. I was very disappointed in myself, for not realizing that the single ply might decide to relax back upon itself in the wash - or that the agitation of the machine might not be the best thing for the yarn. I might have just chucked it, if it had not come from such a unique place. I tried stretching the least snarled skein enough to get it on the swift, but it firmly clung to itself. The swift and ball winder were clearly useless.
So I sat down to watch Superman Returns, and decided to busy my hands with winding the yarn into balls. How bad could it be? I gently pulled on the mass, found an end and began to wind. It was immediately apparent that I was dealing with dreadlocks. It took several minutes to tease apart a snarl and wind just an inch or two, before hitting another snarl. But it was also strangely satisfying, and soon the movie was over, and I couldn't put the yarn down. "Just a few more inches!" (Where have we heard that before?)
It would be nice to say that I gained some insight into the world during this process, maybe come up with with a poetic metaphor for the transformation of a hopeless snarl into nice, neat, knittable spheres. But no. However, I may have stumbled upon another relaxing, meditative craft - now I'm not just a spinner, knitter, weaver, but an UNTANGLER as well.
But don't contribute your own snarled skeins just yet. I still have another three hanks to go - which should keep me busy well into January.
Years ago, my friend in Japan sent me several lovely, tidy skeins of indigo dyed cotton yarn that he found in Kyoto, at a family run shop called Aizenkobo. The worsted weight single ply yarn was beautiful and soft, but when I started knitting with it, it turned my fingers blue. I put it aside, planning to wash it, but somehow it made its way to the bottom of a box, and only re-emerged when I moved to the studio.
I felt guilty about neglecting this treasure for so long and, since I was dyeing some other yarn, and had the Synthrapol out anyway, was inspired to give it a wash. I made sure that it was tied securely, and then, not thinking clearly, threw it in the washer. At the end of the cycle, I removed the impossibly snarled mass you see here.
Ooofff. It took three days to dry. I was very disappointed in myself, for not realizing that the single ply might decide to relax back upon itself in the wash - or that the agitation of the machine might not be the best thing for the yarn. I might have just chucked it, if it had not come from such a unique place. I tried stretching the least snarled skein enough to get it on the swift, but it firmly clung to itself. The swift and ball winder were clearly useless.
So I sat down to watch Superman Returns, and decided to busy my hands with winding the yarn into balls. How bad could it be? I gently pulled on the mass, found an end and began to wind. It was immediately apparent that I was dealing with dreadlocks. It took several minutes to tease apart a snarl and wind just an inch or two, before hitting another snarl. But it was also strangely satisfying, and soon the movie was over, and I couldn't put the yarn down. "Just a few more inches!" (Where have we heard that before?)
It would be nice to say that I gained some insight into the world during this process, maybe come up with with a poetic metaphor for the transformation of a hopeless snarl into nice, neat, knittable spheres. But no. However, I may have stumbled upon another relaxing, meditative craft - now I'm not just a spinner, knitter, weaver, but an UNTANGLER as well.
But don't contribute your own snarled skeins just yet. I still have another three hanks to go - which should keep me busy well into January.
Happy to discover some else enjoy untangle. I can do it without even watching or listen something. Kind of meditation i guess.
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