A few months ago, you all surprised the heck out of me by sharing that you’re all mostly solitary knitters. I asked the original question after sharing the memory of attending my very first fiber festival and how meaningful it was, for me, to look around and see people who were just as in love with knitting and yarn and fiber as I am. Most of my life, I’ve felt like a square peg in a round hole, and at that, my first, fiber festival, I felt like I had found my people. I had no social anxiety, no shyness, no hesitation to talk to other people. It was easy and fluid to be with people—in line, in crowds, or on a bus. Our common love of knitting, well, it knit us together.
I'm a solitary knitter in terms of real life interactions, but social when it comes to being online. I get a great deal of satisfaction about connecting to other knitters online and run a Facebook group for knitters too. I'd be a bit lost without my online Knitty community
Knitting as an outward sign of an invisible soul. The language of the sacraments--an outer sign of an inner grace. A connection to a larger, invisible, expansive spirit over time and space.
I’ve always loved that knitting connects me to women and men in the past all over the world, but I’ve not thought about it as a sign of who I am. Thank you for that. Now I want to make pumpkins and leaves and acorns and eggs and Christmas ornaments to scatter around the house as gentle reminders.
With working and family, it takes a lot to get me back out once I get home. I’ve never had a knitting group close except I once sporadically went to a prayer shawl group. They were lovely, and maybe if I’d been regular, it would have meant more to me.
I understand nerding out with at least one other person who shares your passion. My mother was a prolific quilter who went to guild and taught several generations her art. But her daughter never could sew a straight line and hated every minute of it. My husband, though, is a quilter, and the two of them would talk for hours. She knitted some, but for her, no other handwork could come close to quilting.
I know no one in my area who knits. Most are polite but have nothing to say about it. My best friend lives about 2 hours away, and she knits some but mostly is into slow sewing.
I’m grateful for my online communities who get me when it comes to knitting. Thank you all for being here.
I am mostly a solo knitter/crafter. I have done "knitting group" at my LYS, but lost interest after covid, and when the store owner rearranged it so the community space was at a long narrow table with hard ladderback chairs, instead of couches and armchairs around a coffee table! But then I reconnected in a big way with one of my college friends, Maggie, who did all kinds of hand crafts. We did cross stitch in college. Maggie's mother had taught her to sew, and then she took up knitting when she heard people talking about my mother's knitting at her memorial service. Maggie came to visit me a couple of summers ago (she lived several hundred miles away) and we sewed project bags together, visited yarn shops, and generally had a good time. This fall she fell suddenly ill and died. We used to text back and forth every day, talking about our latest WIPs and imagining projects we'd like to do the next time we got together. I miss her terribly. I am still knitting (and attempting to sew), but I miss being able to talk about it with someone who "gets" me. We were friends for 43 years, and although I have other crafty friends, there is no one else with that history, or that close, and no one I actually craft with. (I actually lost another -- newer -- knitting friend last February. For her it was covid in combination with rheumatoid arthritis. Yes, I was glad to see the end of 2023.)
I work in a few different fiber arts, and they are all a daily part of my life, but not something I feel compelled to bring others into. I'll knit around other people or in public if convenient for me to do so, but I don't enjoy knitting circles, guild meetings, KALs, most festivals and the like. I've dabbled with trying to participate more online with some groups, but it never really sticks for me and I lose interest in that aspect. I do like reading about knitting and other fiber arts and being able to follow folks' projects on social media. I do have a few friends who knit, but only one of them do we actively talk about our projects and techniques and almost all of them do not post about their crafts online. I'm pretty sure I have friends that knit, but don't (yet) know that they do! I'm not even motivated to share most of my work on my own social media. So in this sense, I'm a solitary crafter.
I appreciate your observations about knitting as part of a group or solo - I learned to knit through a group started at work, and I met and communed with some wonderful people through learning how to knit and crochet. Unfortunately the meetings got derailed as covid happened, and although we now meet somewhat erratically in a virtual way, we haven't had the same energy as before (partly because the group members themselves have changed, and we don't have the same leaders/teachers). Since learning, I see knitting as you described - I don't require anyone else to participate with me to enjoy it. I found that it was actually beneficial to sloooowwly peruse yarn stores by myself. However, I had hoped that my daughters would take to it (not yet!), and only recently has a close friend started knitting -- I do look forward to have someone to go to fiber fairs with. (Except there aren't any here in the Bay! Are you aware of any?)
What a beautiful meditation on solo knitting. And your content warning for next week is the most tender acknowledgment of grief’s complexity I’ve ever read. My most recent knitting burst began in 2019 during cancer treatment — as a way to rest my body while soothing my mind. As an antidote to hospital visits and the probing curiosity/care of family and friends, solo knitting became a place where I could be whole, where I didn’t need to meet anyone’s expectations, where my grief and joy could co-exist, where I experienced being intimately connected to all beings without a single word. While knitting with others is wonderful and occasionally feeds my soul, solo knitting is as essential to my wellbeing as good food and fresh air. As someone who believes that we really are all expressions of a single something (organism, fiber, soul, spirit?), I never experience being alone when I knit solo; in fact, the clamor quiets enough to feel the whole of us more keenly. Thank you for sparking such deep conversations.
I am a solitary crocheter, crocheting a bit each afternoon and perhaps in the evening while watching television or listening to a book. After 3 bouts of elbow tendinitis and the joint in the base of my left thumb becoming arthritic, I’m very careful to stop crocheting at the first sign of fatigue or discomfort in my thumb or elbow. I’ve tried knitting but have never mastered working with yarn, using two sticks. When I don’t crochet for a period of time, my hands long for the comfort of yarn running through my fingers. One of my challenges in working with yarn is that I am allergic to wool, especially guard hair, silk, and the fibers that fly with some kinds of cotton yarns. I mostly work with marino blends.
I’m both! I knit most evenings while watching tv as well as take some project with me wherever I go. I also have a long standing knitting group with members who have been with us for many years and where new people join us regularly. The group is made up of people from different political and religious views but we come together over knitting. During the pandemic we continued to meet every Saturday morning over zoom to knit, share our week and stay connected. Several of our members are “anti vaccers” and of a different political party, and I set boundaries about contact at events when we were coming out of quarantine. We’ve sometimes had opposing discussions about our political views, but it’s always been respectful. I’m grateful we’re able to keep our connections in spite of our differences and for the glue knitting provides to hold us together. It’s easy to demonize people you see only from afar then up close where their positive qualities shine through. My contact with these knitting sisters helps me maintain an open heart and mind.
I resonate so deeply with this…
I'm a solitary knitter in terms of real life interactions, but social when it comes to being online. I get a great deal of satisfaction about connecting to other knitters online and run a Facebook group for knitters too. I'd be a bit lost without my online Knitty community
Knitting as an outward sign of an invisible soul. The language of the sacraments--an outer sign of an inner grace. A connection to a larger, invisible, expansive spirit over time and space.
I’ve always loved that knitting connects me to women and men in the past all over the world, but I’ve not thought about it as a sign of who I am. Thank you for that. Now I want to make pumpkins and leaves and acorns and eggs and Christmas ornaments to scatter around the house as gentle reminders.
With working and family, it takes a lot to get me back out once I get home. I’ve never had a knitting group close except I once sporadically went to a prayer shawl group. They were lovely, and maybe if I’d been regular, it would have meant more to me.
I understand nerding out with at least one other person who shares your passion. My mother was a prolific quilter who went to guild and taught several generations her art. But her daughter never could sew a straight line and hated every minute of it. My husband, though, is a quilter, and the two of them would talk for hours. She knitted some, but for her, no other handwork could come close to quilting.
I know no one in my area who knits. Most are polite but have nothing to say about it. My best friend lives about 2 hours away, and she knits some but mostly is into slow sewing.
I’m grateful for my online communities who get me when it comes to knitting. Thank you all for being here.
I am mostly a solo knitter/crafter. I have done "knitting group" at my LYS, but lost interest after covid, and when the store owner rearranged it so the community space was at a long narrow table with hard ladderback chairs, instead of couches and armchairs around a coffee table! But then I reconnected in a big way with one of my college friends, Maggie, who did all kinds of hand crafts. We did cross stitch in college. Maggie's mother had taught her to sew, and then she took up knitting when she heard people talking about my mother's knitting at her memorial service. Maggie came to visit me a couple of summers ago (she lived several hundred miles away) and we sewed project bags together, visited yarn shops, and generally had a good time. This fall she fell suddenly ill and died. We used to text back and forth every day, talking about our latest WIPs and imagining projects we'd like to do the next time we got together. I miss her terribly. I am still knitting (and attempting to sew), but I miss being able to talk about it with someone who "gets" me. We were friends for 43 years, and although I have other crafty friends, there is no one else with that history, or that close, and no one I actually craft with. (I actually lost another -- newer -- knitting friend last February. For her it was covid in combination with rheumatoid arthritis. Yes, I was glad to see the end of 2023.)
I work in a few different fiber arts, and they are all a daily part of my life, but not something I feel compelled to bring others into. I'll knit around other people or in public if convenient for me to do so, but I don't enjoy knitting circles, guild meetings, KALs, most festivals and the like. I've dabbled with trying to participate more online with some groups, but it never really sticks for me and I lose interest in that aspect. I do like reading about knitting and other fiber arts and being able to follow folks' projects on social media. I do have a few friends who knit, but only one of them do we actively talk about our projects and techniques and almost all of them do not post about their crafts online. I'm pretty sure I have friends that knit, but don't (yet) know that they do! I'm not even motivated to share most of my work on my own social media. So in this sense, I'm a solitary crafter.
I appreciate your observations about knitting as part of a group or solo - I learned to knit through a group started at work, and I met and communed with some wonderful people through learning how to knit and crochet. Unfortunately the meetings got derailed as covid happened, and although we now meet somewhat erratically in a virtual way, we haven't had the same energy as before (partly because the group members themselves have changed, and we don't have the same leaders/teachers). Since learning, I see knitting as you described - I don't require anyone else to participate with me to enjoy it. I found that it was actually beneficial to sloooowwly peruse yarn stores by myself. However, I had hoped that my daughters would take to it (not yet!), and only recently has a close friend started knitting -- I do look forward to have someone to go to fiber fairs with. (Except there aren't any here in the Bay! Are you aware of any?)
What a beautiful meditation on solo knitting. And your content warning for next week is the most tender acknowledgment of grief’s complexity I’ve ever read. My most recent knitting burst began in 2019 during cancer treatment — as a way to rest my body while soothing my mind. As an antidote to hospital visits and the probing curiosity/care of family and friends, solo knitting became a place where I could be whole, where I didn’t need to meet anyone’s expectations, where my grief and joy could co-exist, where I experienced being intimately connected to all beings without a single word. While knitting with others is wonderful and occasionally feeds my soul, solo knitting is as essential to my wellbeing as good food and fresh air. As someone who believes that we really are all expressions of a single something (organism, fiber, soul, spirit?), I never experience being alone when I knit solo; in fact, the clamor quiets enough to feel the whole of us more keenly. Thank you for sparking such deep conversations.
I am a solitary crocheter, crocheting a bit each afternoon and perhaps in the evening while watching television or listening to a book. After 3 bouts of elbow tendinitis and the joint in the base of my left thumb becoming arthritic, I’m very careful to stop crocheting at the first sign of fatigue or discomfort in my thumb or elbow. I’ve tried knitting but have never mastered working with yarn, using two sticks. When I don’t crochet for a period of time, my hands long for the comfort of yarn running through my fingers. One of my challenges in working with yarn is that I am allergic to wool, especially guard hair, silk, and the fibers that fly with some kinds of cotton yarns. I mostly work with marino blends.
I’m both! I knit most evenings while watching tv as well as take some project with me wherever I go. I also have a long standing knitting group with members who have been with us for many years and where new people join us regularly. The group is made up of people from different political and religious views but we come together over knitting. During the pandemic we continued to meet every Saturday morning over zoom to knit, share our week and stay connected. Several of our members are “anti vaccers” and of a different political party, and I set boundaries about contact at events when we were coming out of quarantine. We’ve sometimes had opposing discussions about our political views, but it’s always been respectful. I’m grateful we’re able to keep our connections in spite of our differences and for the glue knitting provides to hold us together. It’s easy to demonize people you see only from afar then up close where their positive qualities shine through. My contact with these knitting sisters helps me maintain an open heart and mind.