There is a story in every part of the process and in every item I make.
When I knit something it is always in a certain context. Perhaps I am talking to someone, listening to a podcast or thinking of something. Next time I pick up the needles, my mind brings that context to life again in the feeling of the structure and the muscular memory of the motion. It’s like the context gets caught in the thread and woven into the garment. A parallel process of the time, space and events of that moment is created and recreated.
I may be thinking about when I prepared and spun the yarn or remembering what the fleece felt like. Perhaps I am thinking of how the dye didn’t turn out the way I had planned but how I still loved the result.
I may remember the last time I was knitting at a coffee break at work, letting my co-workers choose the next colour.
Perhaps I remember a heartwarming conversation with a curious subway passenger asking me about my project. I may smile at the memory of seeing other passengers watching the repetitive movements of my hands, and getting helplessly enraptured in the motion. I imagine they are positively affected by my serenity.
I may definitely remember all the mistakes I have made in the process, how I have dealt with them and what I have learned from them.
When the garment is finished and all the ends woven in, I wrap myself in it, like a story book. And I walk on, a little richer in memories.