The Beginning, The End

For the first time in almost 7 months, I did my full makeup.

I put on the dress that I was supposed to wear to Christmas last year.

I put on the shawl I had finished a few days ago.

Robyn and I walked to the small patch of woods where we take pictures of my finished shawls.

Half of it is gone now. Burned down and ripped out by the town.

I was anxious.

Nervous.

I couldn't remember how to hold my hands. Do I smile for these?

It slowly came back to me.

The last time we were here was May 30th. We took pics of Bright Tomorrow.

The first time we came here this year, we were taking pictures of Orchid Thief, a project that brought me my first guest blog post.

I am six months an owner of my own business.

This shawl was made with yarn I dyed myself in the first iteration of my second most popular colorway.

The pattern is Sunshine and Pinwheels. The very first knit shawl pattern I ever made.

The beginning of my love affair with knit lace.

I knit this pattern last year, too.

I don't want to think of the numbers. Of the days and days and days and days and weeks and months of being locked inside.

I don't want to deal with the fear. The anxiety of losing your breath. The suspicion and terror of being close to any human outside of your bubble.

I don't want to acknowledge the grief, the loss, the pain.

Don't think, don't think, don't think.

I've knit 7 shawls this year.

I have worn them nowhere.

I have turned 30.

I have opened my business.

I have been married to Robyn for 9 years.

I have been with Lily for 4 years.

I have celebrated none of these.

I have hugged three people outside of my family in 10 months. 

I miss friends.

I miss people.

My heart hurts.

I will end this year as I have spent this year: quiet and sad.

I have no resolutions, no other hopes or dreams for this upcoming year. I just want to survive.