textile theory and more castigation of comfort
We generally presume the first clothes were skins but what about the second fabric created? Was it knitted? woven? felted? I think it was knitted and felted. I think fishermen invented knitting. They started with nets woven to catch fish in the river, and birds in the trees. then someone maybe felted fleece into a net and made a great blanket. Then someone tried twining the fleece like the fibers used to make nets and baskets and tried making a really fine tight net with it. Thus did someone invent knitting and from that, custom fitted garments. Where woven fabrics existed in the early days they were used in whole uncut sheets, pinned and belted, but not cut and sewn. With knitting, one can shape the whole garment right off the needles, holes, projecting tubes, and all. Then the weavers saw the knitting stitches and got the idea and learned to sew woven fabrics.
Just a thought, mind you, I'm no history major. I majored in the arts, mostly linguistics and didn't do well at it. I didn't really care for the hard sciences was the problem. I appreciated the structure, but not the egos. Every damn one of them had an ego bigger than his own agenda and objectives. You couldn't do anything out of turn without someone getting his back up because it's not the right way. Well how in hell do you innovate if you can't modify the "right" way once you've got the hang of it? I got marked extra hard by a few teachers in my day just because I learned too fast. They felt insulted if I sped through the material as though it were candy. Silly fools should have seen the praise in it and rolled with it. Something about the course was certainly working for me, or I wouldn't have sped through it and even against hard marking earned good scores.
Well those days are behind me and eventually I'll have enough grey hair to stop being expected to play empty vessel youngster needing teaching. That's the downside of being youthful, you see, people see you as frivolous and light headed. Just because I'm happy doesn't mean I don't know what to be sad about. it's quite the contrary, in fact. Being sad means you don't know what to be happy about.
So the thing about living in comfort. It's embarassing somehow. I feel like I'm consuming and wasting too much. It's seductive, it sucks your ethics and sight right out of your head. I've always felt that this comfy stuck in mud lifestyle with trash coming and going out both doors was utterly ludicrous. Now I'm one of them, like a rat in a maze refusing to quit seeking the drugged cheese that keeps me here. I know there's joy and lightness awaiting me. I know it because I had it as a youth. This time around, however, I have a lifetime of collating to draw upon for my tools and toys and I don't have to make do with nothing. Just less, but only the very best of of the less, not the worst.
Also you know, if the Lady says "get up, let go, move" and you don't heed the time of life call, you cling to what ails you, she may do it for you. this is when people experience tragedy. It hurts to let go and I prefer to do it carefully when I hear the first warnings.
Oh where, yes where do I hear this voice?
Hm. It's behind me. Up at the crown of my head. It's got two sides. To the right is the wisdom of the future, to the left, the wisdom of the past. Past wisdom is darker. It's got sorrow and hard lessons in it, memory of losses, grief, and emotional memory. Future is bright, but sharp. It sparkles too bright to see without pain, it's got the edges of all the hard lessons yet learned, even those you don't wind up braving, as well as those you didn't see. That voice, however, is where I hear the call to move. Like a lost sewing pin in a collar she's pricking me randomly. When I ask over my left shoulder, there's a warm sense of longing, like the moon is waiting to play on the beach with me.
I told Dan I'd like to take up scuba. He said "expensive!" I think that's a silly response. it's expensive here, sure, and quite pointless. It's always expensive to rent equipment and have someone do maintenance, but I may still be able to free-dive like I used to do in pools. I suspect I can, at least well enough to harvest a dinner or unfoul a prop. So for me I'm thinking of a wet suit, mask, maybe compressed air delivery via tube from the boat. Cheap. No deep diving required. If that suits me, I can invest gradually in the equipment and training. I just want a good enough wetsuit and mask to go under in the cold water. I love water so much. I have never quit missing walking by waves on a beach. I used to pedal from one end of town to the other just to get to the beach and hear the waves roll. It was more therapy than anything else in my life has ever been. Brother river is strong, but he sweeps things away and you must catch what you can of his gifts in a hurry.
Just a thought, mind you, I'm no history major. I majored in the arts, mostly linguistics and didn't do well at it. I didn't really care for the hard sciences was the problem. I appreciated the structure, but not the egos. Every damn one of them had an ego bigger than his own agenda and objectives. You couldn't do anything out of turn without someone getting his back up because it's not the right way. Well how in hell do you innovate if you can't modify the "right" way once you've got the hang of it? I got marked extra hard by a few teachers in my day just because I learned too fast. They felt insulted if I sped through the material as though it were candy. Silly fools should have seen the praise in it and rolled with it. Something about the course was certainly working for me, or I wouldn't have sped through it and even against hard marking earned good scores.
Well those days are behind me and eventually I'll have enough grey hair to stop being expected to play empty vessel youngster needing teaching. That's the downside of being youthful, you see, people see you as frivolous and light headed. Just because I'm happy doesn't mean I don't know what to be sad about. it's quite the contrary, in fact. Being sad means you don't know what to be happy about.
So the thing about living in comfort. It's embarassing somehow. I feel like I'm consuming and wasting too much. It's seductive, it sucks your ethics and sight right out of your head. I've always felt that this comfy stuck in mud lifestyle with trash coming and going out both doors was utterly ludicrous. Now I'm one of them, like a rat in a maze refusing to quit seeking the drugged cheese that keeps me here. I know there's joy and lightness awaiting me. I know it because I had it as a youth. This time around, however, I have a lifetime of collating to draw upon for my tools and toys and I don't have to make do with nothing. Just less, but only the very best of of the less, not the worst.
Also you know, if the Lady says "get up, let go, move" and you don't heed the time of life call, you cling to what ails you, she may do it for you. this is when people experience tragedy. It hurts to let go and I prefer to do it carefully when I hear the first warnings.
Oh where, yes where do I hear this voice?
Hm. It's behind me. Up at the crown of my head. It's got two sides. To the right is the wisdom of the future, to the left, the wisdom of the past. Past wisdom is darker. It's got sorrow and hard lessons in it, memory of losses, grief, and emotional memory. Future is bright, but sharp. It sparkles too bright to see without pain, it's got the edges of all the hard lessons yet learned, even those you don't wind up braving, as well as those you didn't see. That voice, however, is where I hear the call to move. Like a lost sewing pin in a collar she's pricking me randomly. When I ask over my left shoulder, there's a warm sense of longing, like the moon is waiting to play on the beach with me.
I told Dan I'd like to take up scuba. He said "expensive!" I think that's a silly response. it's expensive here, sure, and quite pointless. It's always expensive to rent equipment and have someone do maintenance, but I may still be able to free-dive like I used to do in pools. I suspect I can, at least well enough to harvest a dinner or unfoul a prop. So for me I'm thinking of a wet suit, mask, maybe compressed air delivery via tube from the boat. Cheap. No deep diving required. If that suits me, I can invest gradually in the equipment and training. I just want a good enough wetsuit and mask to go under in the cold water. I love water so much. I have never quit missing walking by waves on a beach. I used to pedal from one end of town to the other just to get to the beach and hear the waves roll. It was more therapy than anything else in my life has ever been. Brother river is strong, but he sweeps things away and you must catch what you can of his gifts in a hurry.