World Wide Knit In Public Day

Yes, I'm knitting on the train to San Francisco

Bear number eighty-three gets an arm

After the Frida Kahlo Exhibit I work on Bear eighty-four while waiting for lunch

Just a couple more rows and my spinach salad arrives

A quick rest between train and light rail and Bear eighty-four is two thirds done.

I didn't knit with others, but I knitted while others watched. Today was "Worldwide Knit in Public Day" and I could not be at a public knit event because I had planned to take the train to San Francisco to attend the opening day of an exhibit of one of my favorite painters, Frida Kahlo.

Of course I always knit on the train, but this time I wanted to document it and I asked a young lady to take a picture of me. She didn't ask what I was knitting, but I told her anyway. I finished the knitting of Bear eighty-three and began Bear eighty-four.

An older lady who didn't speak English kept watching me and I showed her the flyer about the Mother Bear Project. She smiled and nodded her head. I had a hard time untangling the yarn that was all in one bag on my lap. The seats filled up quickly. It seems that we have discovered public transportation because of high gas prices.

I bought a book at the museum store, my knitting bunched together in a see-through plastic bag. The young man who stood behind the cash register inquired what I was knitting. I was surprised but very happy that somebody took an interest and showed him the Mother Bear flyer. I told him that I am knitting 100 Bears for Africa. He praised me very kindly.

I knitted on the steps of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art while awaiting my 1 p.m. turn. The exhibit was on the fourth floor and I knitted about twenty rows while progressing from floor three to floor four.

Of course I did not knit while looking at the paintings and photographs. Frida Kahlo was a magical realist, a surrealist, a woman who knew much pain, somebody who needed to express herself with a paint brush to survive. I have read books about her and have seen the movie but nothing comes close to the feelings I had while standing in front of her colorful paintings, especially her self-portraits.

After I spent almost two hours (rotation was supposed to happen every half hour) exploring the exhibit I was ready for lunch. I knitted while I waited for my salad and I saw a few people staring but nobody asked any questions.

On the train home I finished the body and the third leg part of Bear eighty-four. A man who wanted his eleven-year old daughter to pay attention to what I was doing said to me, "you crochet real fast." I smiled, thanked him, and left it up to his daughter to correct him.

For the half hour between train and light rail I just sat and anticipated a quiet and uneventful evening. I had enough interaction for the day, especially since the only other person waiting was somebody who either had more than enough to drink or had some other problem that made him curse continuously and loudly into the air.

Seven minutes of light rail home only produced a few rows because I had run out of dark brown and couldn't finish the fourth leg part. I don't think there was much interest in public knitting anyway; most eyes were closed or gazed into the far distance.

Tomorrow will be a serious day of "putting things together." A lot of weaving in of yarn ends. A lot of sewing, stuffing, making ears and faces. All of it will happen away from the public eye.