"It surely is a great calamity for a human being to have no obsessions."
- Ted Berrigan, poet
Clearly, this is not a calamity from which I suffer.
Over the Labor Day weekend I went into an organizing frenzy. The label gun was out and the dust was flying. Eventually when the dust settled, here is what became evident.
First, the knitting books.
Then, the (partial) yarn stash.
This is an embarrassment of riches. If I sat down and knit for the rest of my life, I wouldn't run out of yarn or inspiration. On the one hand, this gives me a great sense of comfort (as in, "Phew - I'm glad I don't need to worry about having nothing to knit."). On the other hand, I feel more than a little embarrassed and somewhat baffled. How did this happen?! Have I been in a fiber-induced fugue for the past 18 months? And, most importantly, how will I work my way through this?
To wit, here is my knitting queue (in no particular order, because the latest project in which I've fallen in love always jumps to the top of the queue:
1. Gedifra Moments #1443
2. Narvik by Dale of Norway (for my bro)
3. Ivel by Evi T'Bolt
4. Ginny by Kim Hargreaves
5. Autumn Rose by Eunny Jang
6. Ingeborg Jacket #12614 by Dale of Norway
7. Military Jacket by Veronika Avery
8. some stealth gift knitting ...
... and many other projects for which I either have patterns but no yarn, or the yarn but no plan.
But, in closing, I must admit that I am not looking for a cure. It's my therapy. It keeps me sane. When things become overwhelming or stressful, I can always lose myself in the Zen of knitting.