I'm forwarding this from a knit listserv. I hope that's ok. You can beat me with a wet noodle if not. [size=1]although I may enjoy it[/size]
Dear Revolutionary Knitter,
I am a knitter in Sweden who is organizing a grassroots international
peace manifestation on March 21, 2006. My goal is to have knitters
around the globe dedicate their knitting on that day to peace. This
manifestation is grassroots in that the individuals who choose to
participate will choose the way they want to participate--gathering
at a knitter's café, sitting alone or together with family, taking
their knitting "public" all day and knitting on the bus, on
coffeebreaks, at restaurants...There are as many possibilities as
there are knitters in the world.
If this interests you, please read my manifesto, below. I have
included it in the body of the email because, if you're like me, you
may not want to open an attachment from someone you don't know. If
you'd like to post the flyer in a shop or send it along to knitters
you know, you can contact me for an electronic copy of the manifesto
alone, or feel free to print out or forward this email. You are also
welcome to post it on a website or blog.
Please feel free to contact me if you have questions. There's no
exchange of money or goods here, just a sincere wish for peace.
KNIT FOR PEACE
March 21, 2006
Knitting is a peaceful activity. Sheep are
archetypically placid. When they cross a road that you are driving
down, there is nothing to do but wait. It never crosses your mind to
honk the horn or try to drive around—where I live the sheep graze in
fields so rocky that you'd pierce your muffler if you tried—you just
turn off your engine and admire the ungainly woolly lumps brushing
past your front bumper. Knitting starts with the sheep.
I like natural yarns that are full of lanolin. That way
I can feel the life of this animal that needn't give its life to
yield up this wonderful product that I use to knit. I fondle the
yarn and start to rack my brains and my library for inspiration. My
knitted things have no borders. I use a Swedish wool to knit mittens
using a twisted Eastern stitch. The mittens turn out not to be warm
enough, so I knit mitten liners out of Chilean alpaca. The hat on my
head is of Japanese yarn, knitted from a Norwegian pattern. I knit
my hat in the round from the top down, and once I passed the awkward
double point stage and worked onto a circular needle, I slipped into
the meditative state that arises when I knit stocking stitch in the
round. My mind wanders, first to my work day then, eventually, to
the private part of my day, my family, my friends, the wild thyme
that the sheep graze on in the rocky fields up the road. I become
part of a world bigger than that enclosed by the ends of the sofa
where I sit knitting. My mind wanders through the world that has led
to the knitting in my hands and because I am knitting, engaged in
this quiet, peaceful activity that starts with the placid sheep, my
mind wanders through a peaceful world.
Knitters radiate peace. When I see a stranger moving a
pre-natal sock around and around a ring of double points, he is
engaged in creating warmth for someone he cares about, an expression
of peace. When I see a friend with a lap full of grey alpaca,
lovingly being worked in moss stitch for her new baby, her quiet
handiwork sings peace.
I would like to channel this peacefulness. On March 21,
every stitch that I knit will be dedicated to peace. I would like to
invite everyone who knits to join me on that day. Will it stop
people from hurting and threatening and frightening each other, the
antithesis of peace? Who knows. When I knit on March 21, I will be
saying with each stitch that peace is possible, that human
intelligence and compassion can triumph over fear and greed, that
terror and war can give way to discussion and peace.
Knit for peace.