Last night, I read this in Knitter's Almanac by Elizabeth Zimmermann (how wonderful to have a kntting book one can read and not feel guilty about not making anything):
"But unvented-ahhh! One un-vents something; one unearths it; one digs it up, one runs it down in whatever recesses of the eternal consciousness it has gone to ground. I very much doubt anything is really new when one works in the prehistoric medium of wool with needles. The products of science and technology may be new, and some of them are quite horrid, but knitting? In knitting there are ancient possibilities; the earth is enriched with the dust of the millions of knitters who have held wool and needles since the beginning of sheep. Seamless sweaters and one-row buttonholes; knitted hems and phoney seams-it is unthinkable that these have, in mankind's history, remained undiscovered and unknitted. One likes to believe that there is a memory in the fingers; memory undeveloped, but still alive."
Wow! I just LOVE this! Memory in the fingers....going wayyy back...memory in the voice, memory in the painting consciousness, memory in the dancing body...archetypal, primal knowing.
I have unearthing to do...with my hands, my mind, my heart, my voice, my being.