I have a confession to make, invisible readers.
Sometimes? When I need to sleep? I think about yarn.
See, I'll pick something in my stash that's been there a while, and I'll go over it in my head, the color, the yardage, how it looks and feels, and do a little free-association. Like that silk noil yarn from a million years ago? Reminds me of nothing so much as fishing net. Soft, shiny, silk fishing net, but fishing net nonetheless. So I couldn't sleep last night, so I started thinking about this yarn. I used to live in Galveston, see, for about three years, it's really the beach I know best. I love it when a storm's rolling in, and the sea and sand are grey and wet, and the waves are going to get big but haven't just yet, and they crash around on the jetties, and it's not too hot or too sunny or too mosquito-y or any of the other things (like jellyfish) that kept me away from the water. So I imagined myself on the beach near the jetties, wind in my face and the Seawall at my back, wearing my shawl that's soft like old fish nets. And somehow, while I was imagining this, I saw the shawl. It had jetties, and foam, and even the seawall. It was beautiful. So I got up, grabbed my graph paper, and made a quick sketch before I could forget!
This year. This year, there shall be Galveston. In shawl form.