I have started a new project with the new year. I am knitting what is called a “sky scarf” — maybe you’ve heard of it? Essentially, you knit one row on your scarf for each day of the year, choosing the color of yarn you have which most closely matches the sky. It actually a great exercise for me, because it forces me to slow down at least once per day, look up, and memorize the color of the sky. Sounds simple enough, but when was the last time you stopped for several moments and memorized the sky? Or anything else for that matter? Your child’s face? The warm, sweet scent of the chicken coop in winter? The movement of cold milk poured into fresh coffee?
It is a nice reminder to me to stop at least once a day, hold still for a moment, and observe. I often forget the transience of this life, and often forget to catalogue it in my mind, or my writing. Such a wonderful, simple zen practice.
I have been thinking more about the book, as well. It seems to be morphing into something slightly different… Or perhaps I am. Needless to say, I will continue on it’s path. In between that and the endless list of daily minutea will be the smell of oil paints, the warm yeastiness of rising bread, the feel of spun wool sliding through my fingers, the stillness of a winter morning.