. . . to be silent, alone, by oneself . . .

excerpt form Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse :

For now she need not think about anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of - to think; well, not even to think. To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others. Although she continued to knit (and paint), and sat upright, it was thus that she felt herself'; and this self having shed its attachments was free for the strangest adventures. When life sank down for a moment, the range of experience seemed limitless.

KNIT

Thank you to Natalie for sharing her pattern

AND PAINT

and to Hanne for her generosity and kind permission

to use her photograph for this figure study