Orion got me a spinning wheel for Christmas, and I've made my first yarn.
Every new spinner and their mother have waxed poetic about the beauty of their wheel, their sense of connection with generations of fiber craftsmen and women before them, the joys of creating yarn on their own. I don't really have anything to add there. I second their emotion.
All us knitters have gotten sick of hearing about how knitting is the new yoga. I've always thought that was a bunch of crap. I think a serious case could be made, however, for spinning as a new form of meditation.
I'm seriously needing that meditation right now. For no good reason that I see, I can't seem to find a happy. I feel like I'm living an indie album. What's up with that?
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