what am i doing?

I am easily affected by words. They can be magical, enveloping the reader in another time, awarding the reader a chance to experience the senses through a written communiqué and one's own imagination. Knowing this about me, you must understand a thesaurus is one of my favorite books to rummage through. I have three of them on my reference shelf: two are fair enough to use but not edited as well as I would like (and I just don't care for the fonts particularly); one has been previously moistened by a leaking water bottle (accidents happen) but this is by far my favorite issue and publisher, thus has been well used, with dog-eared corners and clear packing tape holding it together. Have you ever watched in horror as a paperback swells up to double its original size? It's not a pretty sight. Yet, this edition continues to work well for me and I am opposed to giving it up.

This discourse is not about words alone, but also photographs. Snapshots, taken by both amateur and professional, stop time for a split second, filling the mind with images of texture, shadow, and color. For some, a picture can be like a siren's call to the viewer, conjuring up stories and history.

If, as is sometimes the case in blog-land, there is a memorable fusion of both words and image, it can have consequences beyond the receiver's command. Such was my situation last week when my senses took a holiday while reading the bewitching words "Moroccan Days--Arabian Nights" and gazing at the sparkle of wee beads artfully knitted in splendid lacework.




Things to stock up on in the next week:

• a big bottle of Motrin
• a very teeny tiny crochet hook
• a magnetic chart keeper/holder
• beads: 5000, size 8

Why, you ask? Within the next week I will receive a package from Kim at The Woolen Rabbit. I partially blame Susan for designing a stunning lace wrap named "Moroccan Days/ Arabian Nights", Cass for giving her readers (like me) such powerful words as "swoon", and Ravelry for being so organized (of course there's a KAL). I can't be responsible. It's not my fault I am weak for words and shiny, pretty objects.

What am I doing? Breathe. Thirty inches wide and ninety inches long (it seems smaller when the numbers are written out as words) of lace and beads--5000 small beads. Breathe.

I'm regarding--ok, I'm ogling at--the photo again. Oh, so pretty. May the jinneyeh of the stories in "One Thousand and One Nights" guide me as I embark on my own journey of knitting what looks to me much like a magical carpet. Oh, what a ride it will be!



**These photos are from Flickr and Susan. I can only hope my final photos are as wonderful.