the fix

september 17 hand and leaf“Is there a coffee hidden in that ball of yarn?” G. asked me.  G. nd P. were out this morning on their workout walk up the hill, in matching black nerd glasses and shirts.  It was a good day for coffee, overcast and cool.  G. told me about a piece by Janine Antoni, in which she knit the REM pattern that her brain made each night into a huge installation.  As it turns out, it was actually woven on a loom, and the blanket is now over 200 feet long.

Janine Antoni, "Slumber," 1993

Janine Antoni, “Slumber,” 1993

G. and P. made me laugh as they came up with all the things that could possibly go wrong with my knit installation.  What if it caught on the motor of a boat, and I was dragged down the hill into the ocean?  To be prepared, I might as well start wearing a dinghy and water skis now.  (Never mind that the knitting has yet to reach the water)  They also told me about an NPR program which described shoelace-shaped molecules in human cells that ensure long life.  And we talked again about their giant ball of string.  G.’s mom used to tell them macabre tales in time for Halloween such as that the head of the string collector’s husband was inside the ball of string.  G. told me he never threw away any of the knit slippers his Scandinavian grandma made for him as a little boy.  I told him he should be on the Hoarders reality t.v. show.  They continued on their way up the hill, having given my brain a wonderful buzz.  I love the way their minds work.  The Urban Hiker came by and we had an awkward exchange.  I gave him an invitation card to see the stone sculptor’s art show at St. James, but he declined it.  A group of three ladies stopped by.  I knew I’d seen one of them before but couldn’t place her.  Turns out I taught a painting workshop to her this summer!

“Brown Leaf and Knit Line,” by Christen Mattix

A man drove up in his car, parked across from me, and walked right into R. and C.’s house.  Soon, I could hear majestic piano music emanating from the house.  R. is a musician, and he gives the keys to his house to his musician friends so they can play his piano when he’s not there.  The concert only lasted a few minutes, and then the guy came out again.  “Did you get your fix?” I asked him.  “Yes,” he said, “I only had two or three minutes today.”  “Are you getting your knitting fix?” he asked me.  “Yes, two whole hours of it today,” I told him.  “We’re all behind you,” he said.

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