Dawn Brocco's Life & Design Blog

They say one must write about what one knows. One usually writes, though, about which one *wants* to know. We write to learn. We write to clarify our thoughts.

Somehow, putting it down on paper, or typing it into the magic that is the web, steadies the synapses in our brains, slows them down just enough for logic, inspiration, and insight to make themselves known, through language. Oh, language, how I love thee!

So, I was thinking (there she goes again, still thinking she can think!) about The Inner Meaning of Everyday Things.

We speed through each day, week, month, lifetime. Taking the things in our lives for granted. As existing just for their utilitarian purposes.

When each thing is nothing short of magical.

Most of the things in our modern, tech-filled lives are beyond most of our understandings. There's a few of us, like DS, who could tell us exactly the nano technology involved in these beeping, buzzing, flashing, humming electronics of ours, sending us all into a mind-numbed, glazed-over, altered state of consciousness. Even despite the minuteness of their silicone-based detail, these things are still magical.

But let me first wax rhapsodic about those things closest to my heart. Like wool. Surprised?!

To some (not any of US, though!), it's uncool to be so enthralled with fiber. To want to, nay, *need* to, knit, crochet, weave, spin, dye, fondle, hug, squeeze, sniff, pat, gaze at, and dream about yarn and fiber, is thoroughly antiquated. Corny, even.

Have they forgotten how tactile humans are?

We may not realize it, may even fight it tooth and nail, but we crave connection. To ourselves, to each other, to our past, to our world. No matter how crappy life can get, no-one ever really wants to leave this place, it's just so full of really great stuff. That we can't get enough of.

Like wool! (Can't help it, I'm a single-channel radio station.)

So, what is the inner meaning of wool?

It is that which clothes us, warms us, comforts us. From the harshness that is weather. From the harshness that can be life.

Don your favorite hand-knit sweater and tell me you don't feel loved.

Pull on your favorite hand-knit socks and tell me that all isn't right with the world, for even a few short moments.

Wool. A vehicle which transports. Magic!