April 23, 2024

the first loop

I’m knitting a sweater I keep unraveling—a dropped stitch, the error 
of a knot. The sweater isn’t a gift but an exercise in ebb and flow. I want this
to make the sweater, but the sweater imagines something else, asks
for my willingness to relinquish the needles and attend to the trouble. I know 
there’s no timeline to the lesson—it will keep eddying around me, and in me—
and the skein of yarn is unending. One yard after another after another. 
Maybe this is my work now, this cycle of unraveling, this knitting and 
re-knitting, these knots, these stitches, this error. Maybe this has always been 
my work, and I am only just now seeing the needles, and I am only just now
reaching toward them, only now making the first loop.