[excerpt from previously unpublished journal of the knit-to-the-sea at a bench in Bellingham, WA, begun last May 1, 2012]
Rushing out the door but today was a breakthrough! The knitting has gotten too long to ignore. One lady tried to “help” move it off the road. Two walkers R. and S. introduced themselves to me and told me about starfish mating on the dock. Knitting as a stillpoint. The bench as a safe place, a hub. Several people lingered and talked. Public meeting space, neutral, receptive, inviting. What we so need. Artist as connector. Troubled by my use of the word “shift” to describe my last hour of knitting. Language of labor rather than poetry or prayer. I am now able to recognize the footfalls of a woman, a man, a child, or an elderly person by the sound, speed, or scuffle. Knitting as time made visible. Art as an extension of the body. Warm, touchable art. Body as extension of the earth, water, and sky. Art and artist embedded in the community.
Image Credit: starfish mating photo from freakingnews.com.