I began this piece back when I was a wee tike of nine or so.  My best friend at the time, Mandy and I had taken an interest in french knitting (I now call it cheater's knitting) and were both racing to who can make the longest rope (one is intended to sew the ropes into spirals to create potholders and rugs and things, but we were just thinking of our competition).  After some time we both got bored with it and turned to other interests as children often do and mine got stuffed back in the closet.

Years later in college, we were asked to do a project based on a mapping of the self.  For the first time in probably a decade I thought of this bazaar, yarn rope I had once began and seeked it out.  The yarns used were a mishmash of different colors and lengths and when arranged as it is intended had the impression of tree rings.  It was perfect (though I did feel a little funny about presenting a craft I had created as a child). To honor the project, I have continued adding on ever since.  What was once maybe a dozen feet or so is now countless (I honestly have no idea how long it actually is).  I would bring it along everywhere and knit while watching tv, while manning the garage sale, while at the park.  I pick out yarns whenever I find something that strikes me whether at the thrift store or at a real yarn shop and I have received yarns as gifts from people that I can knit into my life.  I began carrying it in a little heart shaped backpack and now it's grown to the point that my mother had to fashion me a new bag large enough to contain it.  She keeps trying to get me to end this one and just begin a new one for portability reasons.  As pragmatic as it would be, I don't foresee doing that.  It's cumbersome and heavy but then again, what a perfect example of art imitating life!

Oh, and if you are reading this, Mandy...  I think I won.