Knitting Ganas

The lust to start a new knitting project, no matter how many sit unfinished in the basket at my feet, is a powerful urge. I've heard it described as "knitting horny", but I've got another word for it. I've been calling it ganas for years. That's a Spanish term that roughly translates as desire, urge, impulse, or mood, and encompasses sex, but isn't so defined by it.

Maybe it's just that this is the first week of the new year, a time known for good intentions, but I feel like I'm really going to finish up some of the projects that are waiting for me before I launch into anything new. Binding off the birdwoman shawl on New Year's Eve felt very satisfying, and I'm ready for more. However, I'm always up against the ganas to cast on.

Here's what can happen. This past week, I was rooting around in my stash when I found a half-finished sweater that I barely remembered. That wouldn't be so surprising if it were an ancient project, but the receipt still in the bag tells me that I bought the yarn just over a year ago. This was not just any old yarn, either. It was the beautiful Satori that I bought at Artfibers in San Francisco, and loved so much that I couldn't wait to start knitting. So what happened? How did it end up in a bag in a box?

Fiber forensics tells me that I started this sweater in November of 2007. That means it would have come up against some urgent holiday knitting, like Greta's Christmas stocking and O's traditional socks. However, that's a thin excuse. There are other reasons for the mountain of UFOs in my life.

First, when something is set aside "temporarily" its ganas factor diminishes dramatically. It's partly that I have a tendency to put a project down when I've just noticed a mistake, or I need to do some tricky calculation, or I haven't decided what to do next. None of these things are helped by letting a project languish until full amnesia sets in, and the urge to problem-solve is never quite as compelling a the urge to launch into something new. Also, much of my knitting time is in the evening, after dinner and a glass of wine, while I'm watching television. I tend to save little challenges for some hypothetical free morning, when the light is good and I'm fresh. Until that moment comes, "I'll just start this other project I've been dying to begin, and...."

Another point when I'm vulnerable to knitting ganas is when I start to have an uneasy feeling about whatever I'm working on. It's that nagging idea that it won't fit, or that I'll be unhappy with it for some reason. Leaving it in limbo means I don't have to face that disappointment, and there's always a new yarn and a new idea full of the promise of perfection, waiting to steal my heart.

Given my history, I have no good reason to feel so optomistic about clearing up some of the UFOs in my life, but I do. The Satori sweater is already up to the neckline, so I'm starting to feel that other ganas to bind off. I can't wait.