Tag: thread

knots

today i worked more on the scrying cloth, and as the needle moved steadily, rhythmically – quieting my brain chatter to the point i could hear myself feel – i pondered knots. like most fluent needleworkers, i was taught that the best and finest pieces don’t have knots, that the most skilled and talented needleworkers don’t even knot the end of their thread.

knots.jpg

but most of the time now,
i knot the end of my thread,
simply covering my knots from view
with another piece of cloth
when the piece is finished
because the way i see it: knots are inevitable,
and sometimes necessary.

there was a time when
i did macrame,
tying knots to create
pocketbooks,
and plant holders,
and even a headboard.

there are knots we create as anchors
to grab onto when we feel
about to slip over the edge of the cliff.

there are knots that
hold skin pieces of skin together
so they can merge and heal.
and there are knots that indicate
the desired swelling after a spill or a fall,
letting us know that the body is healing itself.

there are knots that create fishing nets,
attach ski ropes to boats,
and the proverbial knots
that indicate two people’s commitment to each other.

scouts learn to tie knots to pass certain proficiencies,
and i’m here to tell you that
knowing how to tie those knots
is something you never forget
and one of the most valuable things to remember.

then there are the knots felt in the stomach
indicating there’s something needs attention,
that something that needs to be righted and resolved
to untie the knots.

and there are the seemingly inevitable knots
that form in relationships.
knots that aren’t as easy to untangle
as knots in necklaces
because these knots require
two people working together
to remove the knot,
and sometimes one person
yanks hard on their end of the rope,
making the knot tight and firm,
wanting the knot to provide separation
– at least for a while.
and until both people are ready,
the knot remains.

vines with a southern accent

while all else diminished during the great depression, my friends, kudzu thrived. it absolutely thrived. back in the day (read: early 1900s), somebody brought some cuttings over from japan, and kudzu has made itself right at home ever since, aggressively staking its claim to the georgia landscape.

because i’m not so good maneuvering needle in a car barreling down the road towards home, i didn’t get much done on overgrown. i did, however, manage to crochet kudzu vines from embroidery thread. (which godfree interpreted as a feline pillow.)

crochetedkudzu.jpg

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