Shaolin, Magic, and Needlework

Caught another replay of Swordsman II on Screen RED again. It's an interpolation of the life of Chee Kung, though, in this movie, the protagonist is named Linghu-Chong. It is about the hunt for the Sunflower Manual, a secret book of Shaolin martial arts techniques, the mastery of which endows the warrior with the "Sunflower Skill". Most interesting is that the virile male antagonist, following the instructions within the manual to the letter, castrates himself and transforms into a transgender/woman whose embroidery then becomes her weapon--fantastic needles flying through the air and entering enemies' arteries, threads with needles as projectiles wrapping themselves round sharp swords, etc.

Does art imitate life, or does life imitate art?

Both?

Do You See What I See?

Like clouds, balls of thread unwind and reveal different shapes.

The heart of a ball of Philippine mercerized cotton thread. It was the most wonderful thread ever produced in the 1950s, and, to me, it still is.

Within another ball, a rosebud.

While resting from knitting, one of my greatest joys is picking up a favorite pen and writing lines on good-quality paper, allowing the ink to flow like liquid, expensive thread.

A knitter should be a writer, because every artist must be able to articulate his work, present his unique worldview, and show others that his oeuvre stands erect on a strong, philosophical spine.

A devoted knitter will proceed with his work even in the hottest of heat waves.

Draped Knitting

This pullover is for my first granddaughter, Angelique Pearl. Again I took only her body measurements and, as my work progressed, I draped the knitting on her body, deciding where to switch yarns and where to locate the sleeves. My mental stimuli for this project were assorted candy bars, including chocolate and vanilla marshmallows, strawberry cream, caramel, mocha, butterscotch, and sweet orange.

The verbs "unravel" and "ravel" mean the same thing. Personally, however:

1) I use the word "unravel" to signify a DELIBERATE act of unstitching in my work.

Example: "I unraveled two rows of knitting because I noted a wrong stitch two rows below my current row."

2) I use the word "ravel" to signify ACCIDENTAL unstitching in a knitted work.

Example: "After soccer practice he came to me and showed me the raveled edge of his sweater sleeve."

Having to unravel your work is really an intrinsic part of knitting. Enjoy it: you must know how to enjoy yin as you know how to enjoy yang. Take your time. Never rush unraveling simply to get it over with; as a matter of fact, you must unravel more slowly than you knit. Unraveling is hours well spent--it assures you of work approaching perfection.

Whenever you have to unravel, it is NOT as sign that you were careless or stupid. It is a sign that YOUR MIND NEEDS TO REST FOR NOW, and so, rest BEFORE and AFTER unraveling. Do NOT unravel immediately, while your mind is still tired.

If we are to expect great progress in gender equality, we should already stop conditioning people to associate pink with girls and blue with boys.

I have tried them all, and, at age 64, have decided that my preference for painting are hog bristle brushes (as opposed to sable or nylon brushes) and my preference for knitting are steel needles.

Aside from being fit for heavy-duty use, steel needles invoke the god of steel in my knitting. As such they can be used, when necessary, as weapons.

I've already turned my back on plastic (there is no god or goddess of plastic), tortoise shell and whalebone (disapproved of by the goddess of the sea), and bamboo and other types of wood (actually breakable).

Knitting is poetry, for every piece you knit is a poem.

Every knitter is a visual poet.

Knitting is literature: every stitch a letter, every group of stitches a word, every row a sentence.

Knitting is a wonderful act of creation: from a mere skein of thread it is possible to stitch anything of any size and shape.

The most phenomenological experience of all is one that most beginning knitters undergo, which is to knit a flat square of fabric and see in it the past, the present, and the future, the Self and the world, light and shadow, life and death.

A hard-touch massage after a week of knitting is sheer heaven.

Knitting As A Reflex

It often happens that I have the urge to knit whenever someone is ill, or is in need of new values or a lifestyle, or needs a major change in life.

Perhaps it is an archetypal instinct linked to the goddesses Clotho, Atropos, and Lachesis.

Knitting is therapeutic because it distracts the ego from one's source of anxiety.

However, it is the duty of every knitter to address that source when he is ready, and resolve it without the aid of medication.

Even a master knitter will count stitches on every row as he knits.

It not only ensures that the number of stitches is correct, but also ensures that every stitch itself is correct.