Hobbies I want back

Note: This post was inspired by IndieWebCarnival's theme of the month - Take Two. I wrote it as part of the writing session at IndieWebClub Bangalore #4.

When I was twelve, I was taught how to crochet. None of my other cousins did it - indeed, no one I knew did it, so I felt very special. It taught me the joy of using something I created, and gave me an avenue to relate to the elder women in my extended family.

I have always treated my hobbies as a way to escape from reality, and crochet was no different. I went from reading in all my spare time to crocheting in all my spare time. I was in the sixth grade, so that meant carrying balls of wool in my backpack and making little coasters on the bus, or working my way through an adjustable skirt during many substitution periods. I could make things and participate in conversation at the same time? What a dream come true for a child just learning about productivity! I could keep my hands and brain just busy enough that my mind was allowed to soar unfettered. It was the perfect hobby; but other, more immediately rewarding things came along (thanks, internet!) and I eventually let it go.

Today I write software for a living. I also have a chronic illness that makes the usage of my hands very hard when I have a flare. These flares show up anywhere between once every forty days to once in four months, but when they arrive they stay for two weeks at least, the unwelcome houseguests. Crocheting is incredibly hard on the wrist - it involves a small set of repetitive movements, coupled with different ways to create tension, in order to create loops that eventually become fabric. All of the effort comes from two fingers and the inside of the right wrist. A wrist that, today, is already spent from typing on a computer for at least six hours, and holding a brick that weighs 350 grams for two to six additional hours.

Machines cannot create crochet fabric. Yes, it did have its moment in the fashion spotlight a few years ago, but most of those pieces used stitches that imitated crochet as a base, and extremely exploitative sweatshop labour to finish the work. Having made several pieces myself, I cannot fathom the prices that fast fashion is charging for “authentic crochet work” - though I suppose a rant on the fast fashion industry deserves a different post. It is good to have a hobby that cannot be replaced by machine function, at least two someone who knows what they are looking at. Looking at things I made makes my ego feel quite nice.

I am glad I have a history of having hobbies that don’t involve a screen, but I also wish I had more hobbies that don’t involve my hands¹. Is that even possible? To have creative hobbies that don’t take something out of your body, that don’t leave you spent? I suppose this post mourns my loss of the ability to pursue the first visually creative pursuit of my life.