I caught some kind of crazy wildfire-like cold this week. It started with a horrible headache, and turned into a day in bed, with me unable to assemble my thoughts or sentences. I really wanted to start a new knitting project, but couldn't even muster enough energy to get out of bed and look through my yarn supply.
Thankfully, the cold was finished in a couple of days, and I even managed to start work on this new project.
I'm designing this garment, which means that I've got no guidance other than the image burning on the inside of my eyelids. As I was knitting this morning, Robb asked me about where I was headed with this particular project. "I'm in Terra Incognita," I said.
Robb laughed and remarked that I've got a well-worn passport to Terra Incognita.
Later on, Robb and I went out to a local park to soak up some sunshine (and a bit more wind than we had anticipated). We stopped to grab a sandwich to share, and while we were waiting, Robb noticed this delivery map.
It all makes me think about all the times we stray from "known space."
Life doesn't come with an owner's manual, or even a decent road map, but I feel that Robb and I do an awful lot of metaphorical off-roading. Every day is about charting new paths for Robb, and in a smaller way, every work day is the same for me. I rather like the fact that every thing I create has never existed before our team of artists dreamed it up.
And as for the parts of the map that we haven't explored? The as-yet undiscovered parts? Well, we'll label them with notes like "Here be Monsters" and let our imagination be our guide.