Sunday, September 19, 2010
Worldwide Spin in Public Day
In my last post on the subject, I called it National Spin in Public Day. I wasn't sure if it was a worldwide event. Since then, I've seen enough articles referring to the WWSIP Day, that I feel confident in it being a global gathering. All I can say to that is, "Even better!"
It was yesterday, this 24 hours of fiber lovers taking their art to the streets. People gathered in their local yarn shops and other meeting places to spin yarn in public. My plan was to get up early and spin in the park. The early part was crucial as the temperatures here in Phoenix are still reaching above 105º.
My back had other plans for me. It likes to act up every so often and this week I have been waking up stiff and in pain. Saturday morning came and I knew I was going nowhere fast. By midmorning, the muscles in my back were loosening up to the point where I could imagine spinning comfortably, but the temperature outside was already pushing 100º.
I envisioned all of my fellow spinners out there, treadling their wheels and spinning their spindles. I wanted to be among them. I had to bide my time. The official sunset is right about at 6:30 these days. I told my kids we would head out at 5:30. Though our days are still summery, our nights are starting to cool off. I knew the best time to be outside, if not early in the day, would be at sunset.
Apparently I wasn't the only one with this thought. I was so happy to see some cars at the park when the kids and I pulled up. Even more families arrived after us. When you live in this climate, nightfall is a special time of day. The sky is radiant, the colors supernal and the air relaxes and becomes pleasing. There is a tangible feeling among both children and adults of happy freedom. Finally, we emerge from our air conditioned crates and run wild.
Still a few minutes away from sunset, I hunted for a little shade. I ended up sitting cross-legged under this fun climbing apparatus. It seemed appropriate to spin under something akin to a spiderweb. It also put me in the middle of the action so I could chat with the kids and keep an eye out for them. A few curious boys asked me what I was doing, but barely paused to hear my response. I couldn't blame them. It was much more fun to run and climb.
The sun sank low enough for me to move to the wall surrounding the playground. Whoever designed the park was nice enough to put in benches for the parents, but neglected to plant any shade trees. With the air becoming cooler, the wall was a nice place to spin. My drop spindle could travel four or five feet before touching the ground. It drew the attention of some other parents sitting nearby. They asked me questions and seemed to enjoy watching a craft they said they had never before seen.
The sky was growing dark as we left the park. My boys were sweaty and tired and I was feeling content. I managed not only to spin in public, but also to share my craft with others. That's all I wanted to accomplish and it felt good. Even though I didn't join a group of spinners yesterday, I like to think I was part of a global ensemble. An orchestra of spinners, playing our spider songs for the world to hear.