Hi, my name is Pusher. Of. Pens.
(Hi, Pusher. Of. Pens.)
I'm 25, and uh... I'm addicted to yarn.
It wasn't always like this, you know. At first, I started knitting to keep me from resorting to retail therapy. I was spending too much money on clothes and wanted to keep myself busy. Also, I needed help with the constant panic attacks I was having on Public Transportation. It was working, so I decided to just run with it--and uh, well...
Ya know, I remember when I walked into the craft store for the first time. I was so giddy. My laptop was waiting at home with videos cued up on how to knit and purl, and I was anxious to get started. In fact, I had a mild panic attack as I walked through the doors. The store attendant told me I could find the knitting section straight back. As I approached it, I noticed the wall in front of me was filled with color--these beautiful skeins of vivid, rich yarn, just waiting for me to touch. And touch I did, let me tell you. I felt it ALL--the rough, the soft, the metallic. My fingers were tingling, and I was short of breath. It was overwhelming, the options I had. But when I looked to my left, I saw another wall of yarn. I willed myself not to walk over there for fear of squealing with delight. Instead, I redirected myself to the tools: Needles. The long, straight wands that assisted in the creation of such wonderful artistry. I felt like Harry Potter in his first year. There was plastic and bamboo, double-pointed and circular....teeny ones and ones the size of broomsticks.
That feeling I had... well, it never goes away. Every time I walk into the store to buy yarn or needles, the same excitement comes over me. I just...lose control. I pick up item after item and I can't help myself.
And the actual ACT of knitting? Ha, I'll get into that some other time.
~Pusher. Of. Pens.~
In my next post: Two finished projects, The start of a new one, as well as... a small business? Stay Tuned...