23-Sep-2009

I thought I was being really good to my new sock today. I thought I would give him a real treat while introducing you to something else new – my new job. A day full of such excitement and possibility would be a perfect place for a sock’s debut. Meet lil’ brownie:

Posed among my lunch. I call it “Still Life With a Sock”; you can get signed prints for 50$ (when you come to my seminar on “how to make a bunch of money by making people give you 50$”).

You’d think a sock would be satisfied, even honored, not only being art itself, but being featured <i>in</i> art. What more can you ask for? Really?

But it wasn’t. It was quiet and miffed at me all day. What did I do? I mean, I know I shoved it back into its Ziplock with lightning speed when my new supervisor asked… but seriously. Knitters haven’t yet taken over the world, so in most places knitting doesn’t count as professional behavior, even if it’s knitting on a very professional looking brown sock. I don’t know. Was it the grey cubicles? The flourescent lighting? The survivor-island feeling I got when introduced to someone who said “Sorry; I’m not going to even try to remember your name until you last three weeks”? The carpet? (I kinda liked the carpet. Very high-contrast design.)

Finally I realized… It feels alone. It is not understood. It can’t accept that being shoved in the bottom of a bag in a new place counts as privilege. It wanted to be among its own kind… other yarns… other yarnies… where it would be noticed and appreciated, or if not that, at least accepted. I tried to explain to it that you just can’t always get what you want. The whole world isn’t made of yarn and knitters, though we’re trying to fix that. Not everyone can work with yarn for a living, and by golly, it should be able to buck up and accept that. But the sock would not have its feelings unvalidated like that. It knew it had big dreams, and that the world is mostly a cold, un-woolly place… but it still dreams of something better for itself.

I sighed at it, privately wiping away a little tear. I couldn’t concede its point, but we did decide to take it on a field trip to cheer it up.

It was immensely grateful, and handled itself in a most genteel fashion while consorting with acrylics and merinos alike. It may snub offices, but it understands that all things, no matter how they are reviewed, are perfectly valid in their own way.

Jared and I then realized that the massive needle & yarn sale Joann’s was having… was online. So we went home empty-handed…

And shopped more.

Send the sock well-wishes… at least for the moment, its just going to have to live with its discontent and bloom where it’s planted. Or, er… rib where it’s rolled.

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