Regarding knitted anatomy
Since reading the comments on that post about stuff I hate, I'm re-thinking the knitted uterus. I'm not planning to make one, which is really too bad, now that I have a piano I could put it on, but I don't think it's quite such a stupid idea anymore. After all, knitting is predominantly a woman's craft and there's nothing more female than a uterus.
I've potentially opened a can of worms with that last statement there, so let me defend it. Yes, I know that some men knit, and I think that's great. In fact, I would like to see more men knitting. (I'm pretty sure the day Stuart showing interest in learning how to knit is the day I vote Republican, but I knit enough for the both of us, so that's OK.) Currently, though, knitting is done mostly by women, and the only reason it is such an art today is that back in the day when women who knitted out of necessity for their families, they made it into something beautiful and artful. If you were responsible for making all the family socks, wouldn't you get tired of the same old thing and throw some pizzazz into it, like stripes or cables or fair isle colors? Hail to the Knitting Woman, for She has Created an Art that is above all, Useful!
As for the uterus thing, I do NOT in any way believe that child-bearing/motherhood is the ultimate female experience. Notice I said "there's nothing more female than a uterus", not, "there's nothing more female than giving birth." So if you want, you can choose whatever you want to represent female-ness and knit it up. It doesn't even have to be pink.
It's just that since reading y'all's comments and thinking about it a little more, I've come to appreciate the idea of a knitted uterus as a symbol of the way womankind brought forth the art of knitting over the last several centuries. We knit out of love for the recipients of our art, out of love for the art itself, out of respect for the animals from which came the wool (or the plants from which came the cotton/hemp/tencel/bamboo - yes, there is yarn made from bamboo; I have some!) While I'm on the road to Hokey-ville, I'll just go all the way and say it: knitting makes the world a better place. This is true not only in the abstract sense (creativity generates good energy, yada yada yada, "ohmmmmm ohmmmm ohmmmm"), but in concrete terms, as there are plenty of opportunities out there for sharing your work with people who truly need it. Afghans for Afghans is one of the best-known, and one of my favorites, but there plenty others.
So, I'm still not going to knit a uterus. What would I do with it? I need my piano to practice on, so it's not going there. Give it to Daniel? "Look, Grandma! Mom made me a toy womb!" Besides, I prefer to make practical items like socks and baby sweaters and hats for charity. But I no longer place the Knitted Uterus in the category of "Really Stupid Knitted Stuff I Hate." It's more of a curiosity.
But knitted wings? Really, I don't think I can concoct anything meaningful to say about those.
I've potentially opened a can of worms with that last statement there, so let me defend it. Yes, I know that some men knit, and I think that's great. In fact, I would like to see more men knitting. (I'm pretty sure the day Stuart showing interest in learning how to knit is the day I vote Republican, but I knit enough for the both of us, so that's OK.) Currently, though, knitting is done mostly by women, and the only reason it is such an art today is that back in the day when women who knitted out of necessity for their families, they made it into something beautiful and artful. If you were responsible for making all the family socks, wouldn't you get tired of the same old thing and throw some pizzazz into it, like stripes or cables or fair isle colors? Hail to the Knitting Woman, for She has Created an Art that is above all, Useful!
As for the uterus thing, I do NOT in any way believe that child-bearing/motherhood is the ultimate female experience. Notice I said "there's nothing more female than a uterus", not, "there's nothing more female than giving birth." So if you want, you can choose whatever you want to represent female-ness and knit it up. It doesn't even have to be pink.
It's just that since reading y'all's comments and thinking about it a little more, I've come to appreciate the idea of a knitted uterus as a symbol of the way womankind brought forth the art of knitting over the last several centuries. We knit out of love for the recipients of our art, out of love for the art itself, out of respect for the animals from which came the wool (or the plants from which came the cotton/hemp/tencel/bamboo - yes, there is yarn made from bamboo; I have some!) While I'm on the road to Hokey-ville, I'll just go all the way and say it: knitting makes the world a better place. This is true not only in the abstract sense (creativity generates good energy, yada yada yada, "ohmmmmm ohmmmm ohmmmm"), but in concrete terms, as there are plenty of opportunities out there for sharing your work with people who truly need it. Afghans for Afghans is one of the best-known, and one of my favorites, but there plenty others.
So, I'm still not going to knit a uterus. What would I do with it? I need my piano to practice on, so it's not going there. Give it to Daniel? "Look, Grandma! Mom made me a toy womb!" Besides, I prefer to make practical items like socks and baby sweaters and hats for charity. But I no longer place the Knitted Uterus in the category of "Really Stupid Knitted Stuff I Hate." It's more of a curiosity.
But knitted wings? Really, I don't think I can concoct anything meaningful to say about those.
Comments
Sorry. I will figure out how to insert links before I die. I promise.
The uterus itself is perfect for nestling against the nape of my neck and providing proper cervical support--see! cervical support! Perfect! I could tie ear buds to the ovaries and line the wires down the fallopian tubes, out of the way of my son's prying hands when he gets bored. The main headphone wire comes out from the cervix, where I can jack into an iPod, my mini-disc player, or the armrest of the plane seat for aural entertainment, resting my head on my comfy, comfy uterus while the ovaries gently sing me to sleep.
I could open a little stand at the airport, selling my All-in-One Travel Pillow/Entertainment Uteri between the Crocs stand and the I Can't Believe It's Yogurt stand. I'll peddle my humble wares while listening to fellow travelers stop and exclaim, "I can believe it's yogurt, but I can't believe that's a uterus!"
And then, after my uteri take over the airports, I'll open a little shop on Cape Cod with my special Coastal Cuddlies. Shelves upon shelves lined with knitted wombs--put one up to your ear, and you can hear the pull of the tides on the menstrual cycle! Science in action!
I can design them with the razor clam shells I find on the beach and deny any irony mentioned by prospective buyers. I can put them in cute plastic pail-and-shovel sets for children to bury on the beach. I can dress them in little doll t-shirts with slogans: "My Heart's in San Francisco, but My Uterus is in Brewster!", "Womb for Rent", and "Born for the Beach." I can put little faces on them for different times of the month!
Bean bag chairs! Beer cozies! Hats! Dog beds for those little ankle biters old ladies treat like babies anyway! Specially numbered uteri traded on eBay like Beanie Babies, each unique in its own way. The uterus could rein supreme!
And then, after my cute little knitted uteri has taken over the airports, the hospital gift shops, and the internet, maybe then I could finally afford to quit my job and live on the Cape, buoyed by the fabulous success of my uterus.
I don't know if you remember me or not, but this is Mike Ducett. I think I was a Freshman when you were a Senior at Bethel. I stumbled upon your blog from some other Bethel Folks, and just thought I would say hello. Jeanette Waltner and I moved to Madison last summer, and we are loving it. Jeanette is also a grad student at the UW and I am teaching English at Oregon High School. Congrats on the baby. Maybe we should meet for dinner sometime. I hope this note finds you well.
Mike Ducett
anyway, i keep my last name out of this blog, but if you want to email me, it's my first initial with my last name (which didn't change when i got married) AT gmail DOT com.
i'm also in the phone book.
hope you're well, mike!
You funny!