Talent

Recently, I've been spending a lot of my online time on Ravelry, a knit and crochet website, kind of like a MySpace for folks in the fiber arts. But comparing it to MySpace isn't a particularly good description of the site, because it is so much cooler than that. It is a place to store lists of projects, yarns, things I want to knit, things I already have knit. Do you see why this appeals to me? Organization of all of my knitting. It makes lists. It even does math for me. How much cooler than that does it get?

{Editor's note:OMFG, you are such a dork.}

The only thing that's been a hassle about Ravelry is that they use Flickr for photo-sharing and I prefer Picasa, 'cause I'm such a Google fanatic. If that's the biggest complaint, well, then, there's not much of a problem, is there?

My whole family uses Picasa, which makes it very easy for the sisters in NYC and CA to post pictures of their adventures and then the rest of the fam can take a look and see what they're up to. I posted recent NYC pics the other day and sent my mother a link so she could see us playing in traffic on the bikes.

The parents are living in Flo-reeeda these days, and I don't like them being so far away. So I talk to them nearly every day, just to check in, to allow them to harass me about how much better the weather is there, to keep them up to date with the trouble that I'm causing. I mentioned the recent spate of frenetic knitting I've been doing to my mum, and then sent her a link to the Flickr photos so that she could see the hats and scarves I've been making like a madwoman.

She shot me back an e-mail, praising the beauty of the things I've made and telling me, "You're very talented."

Will I ever get to the point in my life where compliments don't make me uncomfortable? Will I ever get over the urge to devalue myself? Because my gut reaction to that was a snort, an eyeroll, and the thought 'talented? not really.'

Knitting is a learned skill. You don't come out of the womb with the ability, but then, anyone who does have an innate talent, like a prodigal harp player, also has learned the skill. They may have been born with the ability to play the harp better than you or I, but someone had to show them how to pluck those strings just so to make beautiful music.

I have told this story so many times in real life that I don't know if I've ever written about it, so if I have told it to you, interweb, sorry for repeating myself. I learned how to knit at a yarn store, an upscale boutique that caters to a very special breed of needle-craft nutcases. Walking in there is sensory overload; the tactile pleasure of plunging your hands into yarns that are displayed in cubbyholes, the textures of which are soft, rough, smooth as silk or scratchy stiff wools. I find it soothing, the vibrant myriad of colors, the way things are organized into yarns for specific projects.

My first knitting class was a disaster. Unmitigated disaster. There were about 8 women in the class, two of whom were deaf and read lips. Everyone in the class left that first two-hour session with a square knitted potholder. Everyone, that is, except me. Even the hearing impaired were able to follow the spoken instructions well enough to comprehend and make something. I cried the whole way home, an hour plus drive. I was so frustrated! The instructor and I just weren't communicating at all during that first lesson. It wasn't a personality thing; I really like her. I just didn't get it that first day.

I worked diligently on the needles they gave us over the next week, and somehow, eventually, I figured it out and was able to knit. Something just clicked at one point. Good thing, too, because I had been feeling like I was obviously some kind of moron for not understanding.

Over the years since, sometimes I'm really into the knitting, and sometimes I don't touch it for months. I'm like the moon that way; waxing knitting or waning knitting. Currently waxing, of course. You wouldn't have EVER guessed that, would ya? Considering the amount of time I've spent writing about it lately. Usually when the weather gets nicer, I lose some interest, because knitting something made of a heavy wool isn't all that appealing in July when the temperature hovers around 28C or 85+ F. We'll see what happens this year, because ATM? I feel like I'm missing something if I don't have a project to hand that I can work on. I knit while watching TV. I knit while riding in the car. (Not while driving.) I knit while BS-ing with friends. I did some knitting in the subway in NYC. I'd knit during meetings if I could get away with it. I feel compelled, driven to it, a sense of urgency. So many things to do, patterns to try, things I want to make.

Is that talent? Or just my usual OCD-ness? I'm voting for OCD.

Something that I do honestly believe is that I have an affinity for learning languages, an innate talent to make the connections in my head that make it easy for me to pick up a whole new set of vocabulary. But again, learned skill. If I hadn't been an exchange student, I would have never known this about myself; living as I do in the midst of the Midwest, there just isn't all that much opportunity or need for the ability to be bi-or-trilingual.

I'm not very good at my present job. At all. Part of the reason I want to find another job is that I'm not excelling at this one. I'm enough of a type A personality that I want to be the best at everything I do, try, or touch. The job too is a learned skill. I understand how to do it, I'm just not doing well with it. I want to do fantastic with it, but I'm beginning to think that it just isn't all that possible for me to do well at this particular job. It is a bad fit, all around. I disagree with the employer about nearly everything, from politics to procedures the office follows. I think that the ability to excel at this work has to be an inborn trait, one that I don't have.

Urgh, I can't do this online. Getting way to close to writing solely about work, got to stop doing that.

The Discovery Channel has a commercial that I've been entranced with lately, the backing music fascinated me the first time I heard it. So I googled some of the lyrics and discovered the name of the band, Mute Math, and the name of the song, Typical. The lyrics are relevant to this post, and my feelings about my job; can I excel at it? Can I stop being 'typically' bad at it, break the spell?

Everyone has some talent, something that they're good at, something they can do better, smarter, faster than someone else. Breaking out and finding that something is the trick.

I'll leave you with the lyrics.


Come on, can’t I dream for one day
There’s nothing that can’t be done
But how long should it take somebody
Before they can be someone

‘Cause I know there’s got to be another level
Somewhere closer to the other side
And I’m feeling like it’s now or never
Can I break the spell of the typical

I’ve lived through my share of misfortune
And I’ve worked in the blazing sun
But how long should it take somebody
Before they can be someone

Cause I know there’s got to be another level
Somewhere closer to the other side
And I’m feeling like it’s now or never
Can I break the spell of the typical, the typical, the typical, uh huh

I'm the typical
I'm the typical
Can I break the spell of the typical

Because it’s dragging me down
I’d like to know about when
When does it all turn around

I'm just the typical
I'm just the typical

Yeah I know there’s got to be another level
Somewhere closer to the other side
And I’m feeling like it’s now or never
Can I break the spell of the typical
The typical, the typical, uh huh

Of the typical
Break the spell (of the typical)
Break the spell (of the typical)
Can I break the spell of the typical, of the typical
I'm just the typical
I'm just the typical
I'm just the typical
I'm just the typical