One of the most striking things about my career change is it’s leading to a lot of reflection. I’m looking at things that I’ve been doing for the last seven to ten years with new eyes; I’m paying attention to little details, and finding out what I think I know, why I think I know it, and whether it’s either actually true or the only truth. I’m used to a very American, very rat race, “Get a job that will pay your bills plus a little extra to save and a little extra for fun,” work 9-5 on Monday through Friday, and have Recreation after 5 or on the weekend.” But The New Economy is calling for a new kind of work day. There’s a reason that there are so many jokes about how wonderful the weekend is, and maybe it’s because we need to bring fun back to work.
I’m getting back to the basics. The work environment in which I most thrived was as an assistant- to a community development/nonprofiteer, when I was a grant writing consultant. The differences between working as an employee vs working as an assistant to a small business, even in the same industry, are much greater than the differences between working as an assistant to a small business in completely different industries. So, I’m deciding to go with what works- and that involves an eye for detail and looking at even the smallest processes.
I learned how to knit by watching Youtube videos. This mostly worked- I twisted every purl, and took two sweaters before I figured out what was wrong and fixed it. Taking classes has always felt a little bit like a luxury, when I can figure most things out on my own. But Sylvie Schuresko at The Sow’s Ear has a great Continental Knitting for English Knitters class at a great price, so I spent the whole day with my brain knowing how to knit, teaching my hands to knit in a completely different way.
My English knitting- which may not actually be proper English knitting- works like this: I hold the needle with the stitches on it with my left hand, and the empty needle with my right. I insert the right needle into the first stitch (being held on the left needle), then squeeze it with my left thumb and forefinger to hold it. I then pick up my yarn with my right hand, make the stitch, pull it to tighten it, and drop the yarn. I then pick up the right handed needle and pull the stitch off the left needle. It’s a lot of dropping and picking up yarn and needle, and tiny motions add up to lots of time- but I have the muscle memory of 8 years of knitting like this, so it’s natural enough that I can knit while in a dark theater or while having a serious conversation.
Continental knitting is completely different. I hold the needle with the stitches on it with my left hand, the working needle with my right, and twist the yarn between my fingers to tension it. Instead of dropping and picking up yarn and needle, I always hold the right needle- and use it to scoop (or “pick) the stitches up. A little flick of my finger moves the yarn from back to front, in case I need to purl. It makes seed stitch and ribbing so very much easier, but I don’t have the muscle memory for it yet, so it feels a lot like knitting while drunk and with a terrible head cold.
I get it now why I hated (hate? I haven’t decided yet) purling- I was knitting English. Continental purling isn’t really that much harder than knitting, nor switching from knitting to purling. I’m still twisting every purl stitch, but I haven’t yet made two sweaters yet, so we’ll see. And I’m hoping that by examining the tiny processes I’ve been doing for years, and looking for ways to optimize them, I can learn to knit faster and live less soul-suckingly.
Chris Furuya 