Knitting Needles & Yarn:::Bloom


I prefer Faulkner to discount supermarket novels and historical fiction to slapstick comedy films.  But I just got back from the theater around the corner, a two block walk to the movies with the best sort of pal.  We both fell for Johnny Depp in 21 Jump Street and, turns out, he makes one hell of a vampire.  At least in my opinion.  Dark Shadows shows me that it’s good to laugh in a creepy scene. 
Pain brings out the best in prose and script, for there’s such truth in wisdom gained through suffering, such love cultivated through lessons in hurt.  Even if it’s just a silly vampire movie.  As I age as a writer and a reader, I can forgo perfection in sentence craft and artistic structure for stories waiting to be told that come alive in hearts and minds.  I like to finish a text and feel compelled to bring it up to my heart, mourn the absence of just one more chapter, one more scene. 
I’ve been reading the blog Enjoying the Small Things since my belly swelled with my third daughter and Kelle’s grew with her second.  I remember talking with my friend Nicion the telephone as we nursed our newborns after I’d read Nella’s birth story and that incredible post.  There’s power and love and purpose in Kelle’s words, and Bloom is a lovely harvest.
There’s a quote that’s taped into my late 1990s poetry journal.  My friend, my college professor read this quote from his English Department office as his Grateful Dead tie swung this ways and that.  We were starting up a performance poetry group in New Hampshire and the words of scholar Joseph Schwartz were just perfect as we prepared for our first poetry slam:
To write is to bleed.  To want to write is to know you have been wounded, and, since wounds bleed, you prepare yourself for the bleeding.  You know you are bleeding, and you continue to bleed until the bleeding stops.  It is your very life that is coming out of you, and it has a will of its own.  You cannot wish it otherwise.  You cannot order your wound to heal.  You cannot pretend that you are not wounded.  Like blood, your writing is often a transfusion – a passing on of life to life.  It is not just a matter of words and punctuation marks and ink and paper.  It is your life that is being passed on.  That is why those who think that writing is merely a craft are so far from the mark.  It is as fundamental and mysterious a force as blood.  It is unstoppable once it starts, and it obeys only its own laws. 

Reading Bloom, this quote keeps coming to surface.  I’m not done yet, with more chapters to cover and, most certainly, a few more tears to shed.  Yes, Bloom is quite a harvest from her blog. 
For an entire week, my yarn sat untouched.  We were at Mt. Rainier, far from WiFi and deep in evergreens and rocking the slopes of Crystal Mountain, spring skiing in 70 degree sunny weather. So, no knitting.  Just tired fingers from gripping ski poles tight.
Ski post part I, tomorrow.
joining Ginny for yarn along.


  • Bloom is high on my reading list , first snow fall for the season here – bring on too tired to knit!

  • Tracey says:

    Would love to read Bloom after such a great recommendation.
    I have to tell you that I am so envious of you snow sking at Mt. Rainier. It's not that I snow ski, I have never tired,but I can water ski, it's that I really want to visit Mt. Rainier! One day I am going to make it way over there and I promise to say HI! 🙂

  • Swanski says:

    Well now, I have to get my hands on that book! Sounds so interesting, I hope your hands heal and that knitting resumes once skiing ends 🙂

  • i wish we lived closer so we could get a neighborhood girl to watch our collective kids and we could rap over coffee and bailey's and make word magic together.

  • ang says:

    I love how you describe the books and Johnny Depp, and how you use/make words. Wow your skiing sounds so romantic. Have a lovely rest of the week.
    ang (peach coglo)

  • wow…now I want to read the book too! I just got really sucked into Enjoying the Small Things blog for a moment or two…thanks for that!
    big hugs, sweet lady.

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