It took some convincing, but I finally managed to get an order of yarn (the infinitely popular Rowan Kidsilk Haze) at a nice sale price and with doable shipping costs sent to me from across the big pond. Hopefully within a couple of days I will own my first batch of this soft, thin yarn that is mostly used to knit lace, and I too will knit a stunning stole (less yarn than hole) in a colour that is nearly black. I choose this project, called Muir:
Right about now is the time that being in The Netherlands just doesn’t quite cut it anymore, that stupid appartment isn’t benevolently smiling at me like it should, working days don’t pass quickly enough, and the big trap of melancholy is set wide open. The trap of mesmerizing over the days in India, China, Mongolia, Russia. Which actually reminds me of a guy who was recently in the news for digging holes in forest lanes, placing large metal spikes at the bottom and covering them up with branches and leaves so people would fall into them. Prince of Persia-style.
Makes you wonder, is he just a big fan of the videogame, is he sadly deranged, or is it art? Probably if suddenly Madonna would proclaim that she finds it a very artistic way of expressing yourself and that she wants to buy one of the holes to put in her backyard, it would be considered art.
Actually I think it would make a nice sculpture, a sculpture of a hole, below it a see-through tube in which are steel spikes at the bottom. The top is covered and around it is a layer of cheerful green grass. Put it on a pedestal and bring in the connaisseurs.
In the meantime, my melacholy trap looks like this:
1. Hostel, 2. Hostel with canal, 3. food, 4. Chinese train and apple juice, 5. Why centipedes are healthy, 6. Squid, 7. Snakes, 8. Mushroomies, 9. Prasad, 10. Lobsters and shrimp in a little coat, 11. W and squid, 12. Schemy get-together, 13. Mister M. himself