Basket of Yarn

Vivi Loob

I can remember a day, when I was three or four years old, holding my mother's hand as she went from store to store picking up groceries and other sundries. One of those stores was a yarn shop. Upon entering, I was so awestruck by the range and abundance of colours that I'd stopped dead in my tracks. Everywhere I looked there were overflowing baskets and bins and multi-coloured yarns stacked straight up the walls on all sides, right up to the ceiling it seemed.

As my mother searched for the ones she needed, I tagged along behind, staring at everything in this wondrous place. My small fingers touched the thick and the thin, the rough and kitten-soft, pastels and the marvellously bright, earth tones and mixed. Everywhere my eye rested, I found colours in all shades, tints, and tones. It was like a rainbow, and I'd found one end of it.

I fell in love with colour that day. From the softest pink to the most vivid blue, blacks and browns to snowy whites. These are my mother's yarns and I thank her for introducing me to them.

(Taken for Utata's "Tools of the Trade" and then later added to the "Still Life" project.)

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