I am a beginning knitter. Yesterday I found my hands
rhythmically moving in the spiraling figure-8s of my project. I was not as
focused on each stitch as I was on the movements from row to row.
When I’m writing, I do not consider every letter of each word that I put on the page. I am focused on an idea or image I want to convey … those that I am
feeling in my being.
This morning I photographed the fleeting moments of a beautiful sunrise.
While the darkness of the night was shaken off at daybreak, the light that finally
arrived in its fullness was a blued-white—no hint of the shiny rust-colored ball
that appeared to levitate just above the horizon after first light.
...
The scarf cannot exist without the individual knitted
stitches, nor the manuscript without the alphabet. The sunrise is part of an
everchanging landscape with no endpoint.
Interconnection breathes; it is momentary as well as constant.
Whether I pay attention to the details (stitch, letter, orangey sky), the
process (knitting, writing, sunrise), or the fabric of the whole (scarf, essay,
landscape), interconnectedness still exists—the unseen yet palpable feeling—weaving our lives together.
(Bare bones of a post from 12/09/11.)
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2017 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
