|Not this kind of cake. Though I sometimes wish it were.|
So yarn might be at its best in a cake. It still has all the potential for being absolutely anything, and it still looks good. If you liked the color when you bought it, well, it hasn't changed much yet for you to feel differently about it. And a cake of yarn is anything. It's a hat, gloves, scarf, sweater—it hasn't committed to anything yet. It's still just a spark, and there's nothing better than that really. It can't disappoint and it can't be a let down—it's just not possible yet—but it can be everything good you can think of. That's pretty amazing. What is even more amazing is if you start knitting with it and it doesn't turn out like you thought it would, well, you can rip it out and start over. Although, it's never again that perfect cake. You can't wind it back exactly the way it was when it came fresh off the winder.
Incidentally, I've already started two different hats with it, neither of which pleased me, and so I ripped them out. I've decided I need to design a hat, but I've never really designed a hat before, not beyond a very basic, ribbing-on-the-bottom-stockinette-in-the-body hat. Like a real design, with design features, maybe a cable? I tried something initially and The Doo told me it looked like something they put on patients who are getting tests on their brain. So of course I had to rip it out.
I'm having one of those weeks where I think I can't design anything and I look at all the young designers on ravelry and get depressed at how great they are, and how seemingly quickly they got where they are, and I wonder why I bothered learning something so late, with no art background and no innate understanding of design or clothing structure. I feel like I can never catch up, and maybe I don't really have anything to offer.
And then I look at my perfectly squat little cake, and feel just a teeny bit better.