I continually bang on about knitting and craft being good, and now there is living proof.
Miss Felix, pictured here, has recently undergone an operation to straighten her arthritic toes.
Pain, which could have been a nightmare, has otherwise fueled a raw creativity, the likes of which I don't think I've seen before.
Felix has been in pain for many years, and having her toes broken at the age of 27, will ensure she can run and dance in the future.
I went to visit her in hospital in Oxford, and I found her in a blaze of colour in the corner, wrapped up in a blanket knitted by her friends, and surrounded by trays, baskets, tables and bags of projects on the go. Broken toes provided an excuse for Felix to buy expensive yarn, and somehow, through a haze of morphine, she managed to knock up the leg warmers she'd always wanted. I also had the pleasure of seeing Lara, Felix's friend, who was collecting Felix's fymo stitch markers in the shape of pills, to bake them in the oven in between visiting hours.
Felix described how, as the drugs wore off and the full extent of the pain sunk in, she found herself floating around the squares of her blanket, loving the colours and working out which stitches belonged to whom, and knowing that every square was knitted because we wanted her to feel no pain.
Felix discharged herself early. I was worried when didn't hear from her, but I should have known better - She was busy, zooming around on a mobility scooter and recording the atmosphere of shopping centers.
Felix's attitudes towards disability are unique. I urge you to keep an eye on her work, because something good was brewing in the hospital, and it's only a matter of time before she gets back on her feet and we see how she runs!
Felix's blog is at http://knitaluscious.blogspot.com
2 comments:
aw shucks. That's high praise indeed and gives me a giant grin all the way down to my little pink toes.
*blushes*
You know I was only just today thinking wouldn't it be great if our clothes were made out of living skin. Gross as that initially sounds, think about it for a second: wouldn't it be great if all the tears in the arses of old jeans would repair themselves as magically as the cuts on my feet have healed up since the operation? You have to love that Mother nature...
I am holding out for proper, Frankenstein-esque scars. I want to be able to tell people I meet in the future that my feet got attacked by a giant, sentient sewing machine.
yes, clothes should be loved so much that they are worn until they just fall off and un ravel, just light skin does....leaving traces in the form of a sun tan.
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