Strung up and out

I am one of those kinds of people who like to roll the decaying log aside from the path and look at its underbelly. I also like to look at the mess behind a piece of needlework. I am fascinated by the tangled and aimless elements of life and still sucker-punched from time-to time believing in the unified theory of life-that somehow all those loose ends will tie themselves up neatly into a beautifully complete, elegant something. I remember reading a short story a long time ago by the brilliant James Tiptree, Jr. called, I think, "Houston, Houston do you Read?" and I remember a passage describing the interior of a womaned spacecraft and just the busyness of it was so affirming. So I thought I would bare my imperfect soul and show off the underbelly of a piece I have been knitting on and off for a while now. It's the felted capelet Tapestry Garden by Nicky Epstein in Pam Allen's Wrap Style I have not given up. It is a fascinating, labor-intensive piece of work that I pick up whenever I want to be left alone -completely and utterly alone, when I know that I have just a very small amount of time to myself in my messy room, in my messy bed knitting my messy tapestry in the messy garden I call my life.