Kirstie, I've been scanning my Substack inbox for the past two weeks, to see if you had posted already. I smiled so deeply when I saw this post today.
This resonates strongly with me. When my mother passed away, I started knitting again. It helped me feel close to her, and it helped me alchemise the grief in those first months. My mother used to knit our jerseys, when we were children. The most exquisite complex things: cables; fancy pictures. She would deviate from patterns, and, she could pick up a lost stitch many rows back without pulling everything out.
In that first year, I just knitted squares: 20 stitches x 20 rows, in different colours. I then darned them altogether to make a blanket. I needed something simple enough that didn't require me to think, but was easy enough for me to see progress.
Thank you for writing, and for the kindness & forgiveness that flows so seamless through your words.
"as leaf under leaf under leaf" - what an image, and what a line. Thank you
Dear Toni, thank you for this beautiful story of your beloved mother, and your own knitting through grief. I like that we share this connection through knitting. Textiles, and the feel of them as they pass through our fingers to make something of the raw material - is one of those everyday miracles, and a major comfort for the body and soul. And yes, I’ve been slow to post this month, just scraping into October. I didn’t know what to write about until @Claire Beynon suggested I write about my colourful knitting.
Ooh what you said about textiles passing through our fingers - yes!
I have been slow to post too... also not sure what to write about, so October turned into a month of rest. But an idea showed itself yesterday, so will keep tending to it.
Have a beautiful weekend! And thank you for sharing your heart-words with us all
O Kirstie, this makes me tearful. All the colours of happiness in your knitting, but the poem!! Something true, and gently merciful in your exquisite words. The salt. The violet. Ancient stones, ancient water cycles - wonderful, wonderful. Thank you.
and I am grateful for your writing ... just laughed out loud at the colours in your knitting ... I am back knitting stripes currently, for no good reason, and I feel a great hurrah of support from your work x
Hello Kerry-Ann and thank you. Knitting is such a wonderfully universal balm isn’t it? I really appreciate your comment, and love knowing that you’re knitting stripes. It amazes me how the simple stripes bring so much energy to colour. 🐝
Dear Kirstie, beautiful poem and beautifully blended jersey, reminds me of you knitting quietly while your beautiful child played patterns on the piano 💚💙🩵🧡💛
Kirstie, I've been scanning my Substack inbox for the past two weeks, to see if you had posted already. I smiled so deeply when I saw this post today.
This resonates strongly with me. When my mother passed away, I started knitting again. It helped me feel close to her, and it helped me alchemise the grief in those first months. My mother used to knit our jerseys, when we were children. The most exquisite complex things: cables; fancy pictures. She would deviate from patterns, and, she could pick up a lost stitch many rows back without pulling everything out.
In that first year, I just knitted squares: 20 stitches x 20 rows, in different colours. I then darned them altogether to make a blanket. I needed something simple enough that didn't require me to think, but was easy enough for me to see progress.
Thank you for writing, and for the kindness & forgiveness that flows so seamless through your words.
"as leaf under leaf under leaf" - what an image, and what a line. Thank you
Dear Toni, thank you for this beautiful story of your beloved mother, and your own knitting through grief. I like that we share this connection through knitting. Textiles, and the feel of them as they pass through our fingers to make something of the raw material - is one of those everyday miracles, and a major comfort for the body and soul. And yes, I’ve been slow to post this month, just scraping into October. I didn’t know what to write about until @Claire Beynon suggested I write about my colourful knitting.
Ooh what you said about textiles passing through our fingers - yes!
I have been slow to post too... also not sure what to write about, so October turned into a month of rest. But an idea showed itself yesterday, so will keep tending to it.
Have a beautiful weekend! And thank you for sharing your heart-words with us all
O Kirstie, this makes me tearful. All the colours of happiness in your knitting, but the poem!! Something true, and gently merciful in your exquisite words. The salt. The violet. Ancient stones, ancient water cycles - wonderful, wonderful. Thank you.
Thank you so much dear Carolyn. Your feedback means so much.
and I am grateful for your writing ... just laughed out loud at the colours in your knitting ... I am back knitting stripes currently, for no good reason, and I feel a great hurrah of support from your work x
Hello Kerry-Ann and thank you. Knitting is such a wonderfully universal balm isn’t it? I really appreciate your comment, and love knowing that you’re knitting stripes. It amazes me how the simple stripes bring so much energy to colour. 🐝
Dear Kirstie, beautiful poem and beautifully blended jersey, reminds me of you knitting quietly while your beautiful child played patterns on the piano 💚💙🩵🧡💛
Dear Liz, thank you so much. Ah those were special times of music and art. 💖