Whenever I post a photo of something I've just finished knitting - especially if it is large, difficult, or time consuming - one of the first reactions is either you should sell those! or can I buy it? I know they mean well, and I have gifted some knits, exchanged them for whatever the other person is good at that I'm not, or (less frequently) sold them.
But it's rarely worth it. A color called to me - it asked to become a specific item, which I either found or created a pattern for - and then every inch and every mile of the yarn slipped through my fingers, stitch upon stitch and row upon row, until it became a Thing. By the time it's finished, I've developed a relationship with it, and it's generally a positive, healthy one. Regulating any part of that process (I love it! Can you make it pink? or fuzzy? or bigger? or..?) disrupts the joy.
Knitting to me is art and expression - and it's also worship. It's how I process things, and it's how I give. I'm happy doing charity knitting or making something for a friend (both of which define current projects), but if it's forced, it's not a gift anymore. It becomes an obligation, and the wrong kind of sacrifice. The "laid across a stone and had your heart cut out" kind, instead of the "bringing the best of what you have to give" kind.
Because I firmly believe that thoughts and feelings get tangled up in the work. They certainly do in a literal sense - tension creates tight stitches, inner turmoil creates uneven ones - and I can't help thinking that the frustration I process while I knit ends up a part of the finished piece. I want to create beautiful things, not toxic ones, and that sometimes means saying no to people - people who don't understand, and sometimes people who do. But I want the things I make for others to be filled with love rather than resentment, a beautiful thing worth admiring as the gift that it is.
Linking up with Five Minute Friday!