worth living for

Here it is. The Raha scarf all blocked and dry, draped around the shoulders of mannequin noir. It's super soft and comfy, but alas, it does curl up serpentine-like. Maybe I'll just leave it hanging on the wall as an art installation. In any case, I'm not thinking warm scarves these days as much as I'm thinking about leaving winter behind. I'll decide how I feel about Raha another time. Right now a strong case of superficiality is overtaking me. I'm reading about spring fashion and blog reports of the Milan shows. Like I said. Superficial. No matter what the new styles are, I'll still be wearing my jeans and tee shirts. Only the colors might change. And of course those colors will be reflected in the newest yarns. Even knitters are slaves to fashion in some form or another. From what I'm reading, it seems like orange and intense violets are the hot colors for spring. Forget the pastel Laura Ashley look, it's Frieda Kahlo colors all the way!  Coincidentally (I bought the yarn last fall) I'm knitting a pair of coppery orange handwarmers. The October aspens were my inspiration back then. Who knew it would be a spring color!

Today is cloudy, cold, windy, more of that wintery feeling than spring. Transitional gloom? To offset it, I'm reading Under the Sun, a compilation of Bruce Chatwin's letters. They're filled with an itchy restlessness - which he kept satisfying through intense traveling, writing, photography, visiting friends in exotic places all over the world. Yet none of it seemed to do the trick for him once and for all. He was interested in everything and died too young (48 years old). We'll never know what more he would have produced or if he could have satisfied his nomadic yearnings. I love his story. Talk about fashion. In all his wanderings and explorations, he carried ample luggage. In the desert he wore khaki shorts and shirts bought in London, with stylish boots and cashmere socks folded over the tops "just so" (that info came from With Chatwin). He carried a custom made leather rucksack, a Leica camera, Mont Blanc pen and a bevy of small Moleskine notebooks. That's my kind of nomad! In my heart of hearts I would like to be him - an energetic, attractive, intense traveler, collector of art and artifacts, cheerful companion, writer.

Instead, I'll read, knit, work a little, dream about transitions, do some creative visualizing - and probably watch the Oscars tomorrow night.

change is the only thing worth living for;
never sit your life out at a desk
                               Bruce Chatwin