Happy purple fingers

makes for happy purple yarn.


Or is it the other way around?
My singles are still uneven more often than not but I think I'm finally getting the hang of it. How to keep the fluff of the unspun roving from getting tangled in the developing thread, how to simultaneously "pull" (or draft, as my spinning teacher at Rhinebeck sternly corrected) the fiber while keeping the spin, how to coax the fibers free of the mass of roving without tugging so hard that the interrupted spin sends the spindle flying sideways...it's all slowly settling into my brain and body. As it was when I learned how to knit, my hands are finally adapting to this awkward business of simultaneously managing a tuft of fluff and a rapidly twirling wooden object. It's hard to beat that wonderful feeling when everything falls into place, when one's hands finally fit into positions that work and feel comfortable. It's like coming home. Even though the end product of my spinning leaves much to be desired, I'm loving the spinning process. There's something so very soothing and almost mesmerizing in the series of motions involved -- flicking the spindle into a whirl, drafting out a thin stream of fibers from the puff of roving, letting the twist climb into the fiber, reflicking the spindle into a whirl, and so on. I feel like I could almost do it for forever.
Happy purple fingers indeed.