Less noise. More material.

material y atención

It’s not that yarns are lacking. It’s that there’s too much noise.

We live exposed to a constant flow of images, newness, and stimuli, unfolding without pause. Projects that appear and disappear, materials that seem essential today and are gone tomorrow. Everything moves fast. Too fast.

In that context, choosing becomes an impulsive gesture. Something catches our eye, something feels right in the moment, something seems to fit—and we move on, almost automatically.

But when it comes to knitting, as in most things in life, the decisions made at the beginning accompany the entire process, for better or not so well.

Before that

Over time, I’ve seen—and experienced—that many of the frustrations that arise while knitting have little to do with the pattern or the technique. They have to do with what happens beforehand: the yarn chosen, the expectations placed on it, the real use the garment will have once it’s finished.

Choosing a yarn is not a neutral gesture. It shapes how the knitting unfolds, how the garment behaves, how it ages, and, above all, how the project is experienced while it’s in progress.

For me, choosing well is not about always getting it right, but about reducing uncertainty and avoiding unnecessary doubt. About not adding noise where there should be calm.

Choosing with intention

Choosing with intention doesn’t mean choosing slowly as a rule, nor giving up on trying new things. It means knowing when a project allows for risk and when it doesn’t. And that has to do not only with the yarn, but also with the pattern that accompanies it.

Yarn and pattern don’t work in isolation. They condition one another: structure, stitch, construction, and the intended use of the garment matter just as much as the material itself.

There are projects that work beautifully when the aim is to explore, to test, to play without too many expectations.

And there are others meant for when you already know what you’re looking for: a yarn that responds and supports the project, and a finished garment that doesn’t depend on trends or impulses.

In those cases, pausing for a moment before starting—and thinking about the whole—changes everything that comes after.

Less, but better

It’s not about having less for the sake of it.
It’s about needing fewer corrections halfway through.
Fewer “maybe this wasn’t the right one.”
Less unnecessary uncertainty.

Choosing well doesn’t speed up the process, but it does make it cleaner. More enjoyable. More aligned with the time and energy involved in knitting a garment from scratch.

An intention

This Journal begins there.

Not to follow the fast pace of newness, but to pause and think before starting.
Not to accumulate ideas, but to give them meaning through making.
Not to add noise, but to return to the material.

Because choosing well is also a way of knitting with intention.

Continue reading →

→ Working from the material
→ A knitting class