As Bailey acclimates to his new home, and we fall ever more deeply in love with our new pet, I'm thinking a lot this week about the beginnings of things.
Whatever I'm working on, at whatever the stage of the process, I'm always looking ahead to the next thing. It's not proactivity, or project management, or anything else so noble: It's good old fashioned Start-Itis. String Lust. Wanton neglect of the old in pursuit of the new. I'm meant to be working a button band for the last thing, but all I can think about is the new blue hat, still in skein form.
We knitters all suffer from this need to move on, to some degree. It's part of the whole Knitter Mystique. I'm wondering if there isn't some way to harness the crazy energy of the infatuation stage of a project. Then I could lay it aside for later, when the Doldrums hit. Imagine going to the cupboard for a wee dram of New Project Excitement, just when the sea of stockinette, or the nasty heel turn from hell rob us of our knitting momentum...
There must be a way. I'm sure it would involve some sort of suction, and probably a distillation process. Then, of course the patenting would be a nightmare, but well worth the trouble...I'll leave those details to my people.
When I get some people, that is.
For now, my only assistant is a sassy blonde, who would like his ears scratched, please, as soon as possible.
The excitement of the beginning is all about the clean slate, for me. As long as the yarn is still in skeins, I've yet to make a single mistake. The project is still completely perfect, as long as it's only in my head. I can see how someone with this mindset would eventually find themselves with a house full of yarn, and not a single finished object to show for it. Not that I would know personally, you understand - this is entirely speculation. Perfectionist Much?
Fortunately for me (so far), my unbridled lust desire to play with the string always overcomes my need to preserve its unspoilt beauty. Sooner or later I always cast on. Binding off, of course, is another matter entirely. And what goes on in between may or may not be made of magic. I suppose that's the really driving force for me: What makes one song a hit and another one elevator music? We'll never know why some designs are loved and others tank. And dreaming up the next one is where all the charm lay for me.
One thing is for certain: My production schedule is really going to take off once these Scottish Terriers learn to knit.