I brought a crocheting project with me to Chicago. My neighbor teased me about bringing so much clothing, but part of that suitcase volume was 5 balls of yarn and two crochet hooks.
Before I moved out to Cambridge, I had started a scarf project. It was meant to look like random colors when all stretched out, but like a sushi roll when it was rolled up. I had gotten to my ‘avocado’ section and then I stopped.
That was the project I brought, and I found myself finishing the scarf in short order. And then I started another one and I’m already on the ‘chive’ part – next is rice.
I think when I finish this one I’ll start something else. Maybe another of these, maybe something else. The important part is the creation.
Crocheting a single strand of yarn into something more has been incredibly soothing to my brain. I think that kind of activity should have been available in the mental health facility. Something that was lacking there was the ability to meaningfully create.
Sure, for those who could draw, materials were available for coloring and sketching, but I wasn’t very fulfilled by simply coloring, and I’m not good enough at drawing for that to be my outlet. Plus, a crocheted hat or scarf is valuable beyond its simple existence. It’s warmth.
It’s useful as an end product and as a creative outlet.
But is utility really what I’m getting at here? Not really. Creative outlets shouldn’t need to involve utility. But they are useful in the act of creation. The utility is to the creator, regardless of the utility (or lack thereof) of the output.
All that to say I’m really enjoying the soothing and repetitive nature of crocheting right now. That it settles something in me to create.