Sunday, December 17, 2006


(*Tah-tah for now)

Here I am in those small, seemingly endless hours between dark and dawn. Thinking. I can honestly say that I have often been inspired in that "between" time with answers to nagging questions, one of which lately has been the relevancy of this blog.

I started it almost 2 years ago as a release. A sort of response to the resurgence of knitting in my life: the tactile, visual stimulation of design; the sense of community, both of learning from and contributing to that community; the friendships that developed and connections that were made.

But now, as I lay in bed for the better part of an hour and sleep escapes me, it's become clear that I've added little to the conversation of late. I'm also feeling some kind of internally-applied pressure to keep up with: a) my production volume, b) my writing quality, c) just finishing some of the things that I continually promise to start.

For the past few months, it's been like crying wolf. "Oh, I'm going to make this, I've finished half of that." Maybe I need some sort of knitting Viagra, because I can't keep it up. I've even noticed that my feed subscribers are dribbling away - a sure sign that my creative mojo has gone limp.

That's why, at least for now, Yarn Is My Metier will go dark. Dark as this hour. Dark as the feeling that I've somehow let everyone down. These are probably my own demons talking, but radio silence will be the rule. At least until "Old Sparky" comes back home. At least until I'm satisfied that I have something to offer to this wonderful community. At least until I can reliably feel my fingers again.

BTW, I've turned off comments to this post because this isn't a public plea for approval or confirmation of my worth. I just need time to gather my wits about me and recall my creative muse from her fabulous, all expenses paid vacation.