KEXP is on a roll. At LEAST one new song per day in the past week that I have loved. Today it was "I Remember" by Yeasayer. Really lovely song. That guy's voice made me shiver, in a good way. I can't think of who his voice reminds me of. Falsetto-y? With some tremolo? Gosh, I can't think.
Yeah, we've got another knitting post. But the post goes a bit beyond knitting, so bear with me.
Tonight, I had to fight a little battle over critique.
I have a hard time with critique. As a writer I know I ought to be better about it, and as a writer I usually AM better about it. But this critique didn't have to do with my writing. It had to do with my knitting.
And I haven't really had to deal with this, before.
As many of you know, I am trying desperately to be rid of a bunch of yarn that's lying around my room. Yarn that I bought when I was young and naive and woefully under-educated about the best sorts of yarn to use. Just because I know better now, doesn't mean I'm suddenly rid of all this cheapo--but still quite useable--yarn. So I've been busting my stash, slowly but surely.
In an effort to bust a particularly loud color of chunky green yarn and some off-white of the same brand, I decided to make a hooded scarf based on a pattern I found. I had to re-judge for needle size and number of stitches (as I don't have circulars big enough...argh!). And we all know my success with going off-pattern, don't we?
Well, my off-pattern luck struck again...in the worst way. It ended up being really awkward looking, and since I ran out of the green and white earlier than I expected to I had to compensate with the only other color of chunky yarn I had: a reddish-purple color. So naturally it started to look really funny. And with the wrong needles, and different dimensions, oy.
So I finished it and showed it to my parents, and they were less than enthusiastic.
Understand: I am a performer. I am also highly sensitive to the emotions and social cues of others. Which can be good and bad. As a performer, I get to be fun and light-hearted when I feel like it. But when no one's clapping, I get upset. Being highly sensitive, I am usually able to tell what's going on with someone before they say anything. However, it also means I can tell when something I'm doing is not appreciated as highly as I think it should be. And I can't just "let go" of it as easily as others can. I hold on and shake it until it dies.
So I went back upstairs feeling bummed out and wanting to burn my new knitted monster and wishing I could un-buy the stupid yarn. Basically, I threw a little temper tantrum.
And then I put the hooded scarf on.
And I thought, hey. It's not THAT bad. I mean...yeah, it's weird. But it's not unworkable. Is it?
You know what? Don't answer that. Because it doesn't matter. I like it. It's cozy and warm and on a blustry day it's going to save my poor little ears. And it's funky. I like funky. So there.
And I love my parents for not massaging my ego every day. It gives me something to learn from. And blog about.