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Part of the preparation for the big yuletide show at month's end is to unearth the mannequin hands and feet that were stored away since the last gallery show in September. They are used (obviously) for display. I begin to gather stuff and stash it on a nearby desk. From my work table (where I've been all afternoon and haven't accomplished much) I noticed that the hands and needles were clustered together in a picturesque way. Sort of a knitting/art installation.

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what I'd rather be doing than production, writing, paying bills, researching flights east. Yellow brick roads beckon, but I'm stuck in my metaphorical black and white Kansas.

unable to speak
I count four hundred stitches
          tears soak through the wool