Brightness

In the face of so much sad news and hard work to be done, I found a recent spot of brightness in the world I wanted to share.

My dearest friend recently celebrated 10 years of being out and proud. This is quite an accomplishment for anyone, but particularly in her case. A bunch of us met at her family's lake house in NH for a weekend of toasting (both marshmallows and wine), sunning, swimming, and campfires. To properly mark the occasion, an international group of her friends knitted feather and fan strips of brightly colored Rowan Summer Tweed that we are putting together into an afghan for her.

Here is she opening the mysterious bundles:

And here is the not-yet-put-together blanket:

Initially, the rainbow idea felt to me much too contrived and silly. But I find I really love the finished product.

I don't know why, but it has felt nigh on unbearably difficult to stay connected and present this summer. This rainbow blanket's grand corniosity feels in direct opposition to my recent hiding and desperate screwing-closed-of-eyes behavior.

You know that moment in the Care Bears cartoons - when the Care Bears all come together against some bad thing and yell, "Care Bears - CARE!" and all their tummies start glowing and these big beams of light shoot out and push back the badness? That's what this weekend and this project feel like to me. I'm so pleased and proud to have given my friend a tangible reminder of her own strength and survival, and to have shared its creation with so many loving and good people.

Knitting is indeed a blessing. In this seemingly dark time, may we all remember our blessings, and our own ability to survive.