Knitting is a primitive art form. With 2 needles and a way of making knots, on those needles, I can picture in my mind, the very first knitter almost speechless at what she/he devised.
Certainly clothing was not attempted at that time, but in time, the creation of a pattern must have been a sweet invention.
Knitting is an art close to the body. It warms the body; it is created by a body. The design is mathematical, but the end result is ART—useful art; practical art.
When one is knitting, one is at peace with the space around. The space has noise and movement, but the space in which knitting takes place is quiet; the knitter alone with thoughts.
My grandfather was a knitter, He was a very quiet man. He came from Italy to the U.S. as a boy. At 6 years he was helping bricklayers by handing bricks to them as they climbed ladders. As an adult, he owned a grocery store. Immigrants who could not afford groceries were given grace, and told to pay when they could. Most of them did. He bought 2 houses, and one was given to my mother and father to live in.
In retirement, at an early age, he sat by a wood fire, and enjoyed knitting and smoking a pipe.
However yarn is worked, it is worked by an individual. Mistakes were made before there were printed patterns, and learning from a person who already knew how, was how things were done.
Knitting is personal and fulfilling because it speaks to our need to create something beautiful AND useful—and our very own. Whether we give it away or keep it, it is a handmade piece of art. That someone who has it can use it, or give it away and it passes the test of time until it unravels, and becomes just yarn again.
