Why yarnful?

My mum used to tell me that I’d been knitted. 

She wasn’t even particularly a knitter, but somehow that emerged as the explanation of my existence.  (In case you were wondering, my sister was found under a gooseberry bush.)  I think however, that might have been the beginnings of my love of a good yarn.

I am a yarn collector.

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yarn  n. 1 spun thread used for knitting, weaving or sewing  2 (informal) a long or rambling story, an epic tale

I love stories of all kinds, whether they are real or made-up, written in the pages of a book, overheard on the bus, woven in the words of a folksong, or shared in an email from a friend.  I’m also never more content than when surrounded by soft, squishy skeins of hand-dyed wool or pieces of beautiful fabric.  It’s not just the colours and textures that make me happy, but also the feeling of potential in each one.  I love imagining, researching and collecting ideas for what they will become, and then the process of turning them into useable objects or garments to bring pleasure and warmth to someone.

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There’s a magic in the intertwining of stories and textiles.  Each object not only has a history in its materials, construction and the person who made it, but also a future as it becomes part of the story of those who will use it.

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