11 months ago

I SAW A SHAWL! {a digital short story, illustrated by C. Svellinger}

***I drove myself to the doctor this morning, with my kids, and got a positive for strep throat. The boys had no idea what was going on and kept asking me “Mom, who is sick?” So that’s fun. I wrote this post out over the weekend, enjoy.***

If you’re not the creative sort, it’s okay because in truth, I am not the creative sort. Ideas don’t come to me easy. I always fall back on using obnoxiously cliche things to practice drawing or lettering.

I bounce around to other projects during my times of creative stagnation. I do a lot of knitting or crocheting because it’s easy, it gives my hands something to do instead of sitting there going “What should I draw?”.  I’m supposed to say I give my hands work by folding laundry and washing dishes, or cleaning my husband’s beard trimmings from around the bathroom sink, but for some reason, I’m still immature and all that rot.

Creating relieves stress, cleaning piles it on.  Creating is a stolen sanctuary in a busy day, cleaning is the Barney song that never ends. The purple dinosaur, Barney. …I actually just drew a complete blank on what the Barney song sounds like because I’m delirious and have strep throat. Help. -No, wait. Don’t help, I don’t want to know, because tomorrow, now that I’ve written this, I’ll be going about, wincing as I swallow with my enormous, sick tonsils, scrubbing the dishes, and I’ll think of this paragraph and if you’ve helped me remember the song, then it’ll get going in my head and I’m already cleaning, and cleaning IS the never ending Barney song, and on top of that I’m sick, so it’s Hell thrice over! NO!

ANYWAY. I started knitting my first shawl in December.  Picking a variegated color palette always results in decorative war and tragedy, so I chose a safe, slightly heathered, Thicket Green.

It occurred to me sometime around Christmas that I’d never raked Instagram to find fellow knitters for inspiration.  Lo and behold, there is quite a posse there, and little did I know there exists some very cool yarn makers who sell the loveliest yarns, in the loveliest colors. And then, a small creative inkling hit me, and I went back to my drawing board. Literally. And digitally.

I now present my first digital illustration/story:



By C. Svellinger


As you know, I started my shawl. But here’s what you might not know so much about my personality. When I have something I want to do for the first time, I Pinterest, and Google, and YouTube, and Skillshare that thing to find out every way it can be made.  I go ahead and learn how to top-down knit a shawl just in case I decide that’s how I want to do it so that I’m already familiar with it when I actually begin. But I decide against it. I screenshot colors and toss them together in a random app to see how they look laying together and I confirm that still, no, I am not good at making colors friends, even though that group seemed like it should make total sense! And then, sometimes I get sidetracked and learn how to knit socks because after this I want to learn to knit socks and it helps if I’m already a little familiar with the process.

Yeah, she’s a funny bird.

So, there I am, after my extensive shawl recon,  beginning to knit with cozy thoughts of wrapping myself in this carefully planned masterpiece during these cold months. Basically, it was going to be my adult lovey. I chose what I thought was a lovely deep green, fingering weight, Pima cotton yarn. Like, boy, hi. This was gonna be the best little thing ever.
That’s when I got on Instagram to look for inspiration.

And I realized there’s this, like, wave of trendy knitters. Which is very cool. Truly it is! Like: you, also, like to sit and let your anxieties flush out of you in repetitive finger movements, to the small clicking of two needles, mostly in silence? YES. Come. Let us sit in the same room and not really talk much, and we can knit our lovies and we can be friends, and sit separately in our coziness.

So that’s a fun discovery. But then I saw it.  Down the cushy hole of the Instagram knitting thread, I SAW A SHAWL: the one I would have picked to make, had I seen it 200 rows ago. T’was a goddess of a shawl, and beams shot out from its stitches, and its asymmetrical elegance gave a lofty hair-tossing when it caught my eye.

It was VERY MUCH cooler than my poopy thicket green shawl I’d been garter-knitting my brains off. I looked at my work and now, it felt like I was making something a peasant would only begrudgingly choose from the basket’s bottom when all the other shawls were taken.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last 10 years that I would go back and tell my ridiculous 22 year old self, it is this:

Follow through. Finish it. You’ll only regret the unfinished.

Don’t wait for it to be perfect before you start because it never will be, and then you never will, and then you’ll be standing there 10 years later wondering WHAT in the world you were actually fussing over that kept you from just finishing it. Stop over analyzing and trying to learn all the things before picking the most rational route, just start, and then, DO THE TASK AT HAND.

So in my case, in this instance, I MUST. FINISH. my Thicket Green shawl, and I will love it because I’ll actually have something to show for it.

Plus, I paid $40 for the yarn.


Goddess shawl, I see you, and one day, I’ll try my hand at you. But not this day, lass.

I don’t know where that turned Irish, but there it is. Bye.

**PS. If you’re interested, the goddess shawl is actually called the Find Your Fade Shawl by Andrea Mowry.  Here’s her pattern on Ravelry: http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/find-your-fade It’s so lovely!


  1. […] I kid you not, with the exception of about one week, I have been sick since I wrote my last post. I fully blame my medication which makes me (apparently) extremely susceptible to catching […]

  2. Really enjoyed your short story( story of my life) and the ball of yarn falling … Being able to show how something fell in a still drawing=Talent

  3. […] I still hesitate to write about Emmett. I don’t write as specifically about his brothers. But his brothers are neurotypically normal. Emmett is the mystery who we are just finally getting to know. I hesitate because while I have come to see that the world needs to know more about what Autism is, I also understand that Emmett remains a human person, with his own precious dignity.  I fear that writing about how he navigates the world with a disability in some way objectifies his personhood. I don’t think I do that, but I don’t know. Maybe my word choice somehow does. Maybe using the word “disability” is harmful. He can read what I’m writing, right now. He’s standing here, reading what I type out loud. He laughs when I type funny things. He laughed as he watched me write this story. […]

  4. Maybe we should be besties and cheerleaders for each other because I’m pretty sure I think and feel every word of what you described, every time I sit down to create something. The ever lovin’ rabbit hole of inspiration sometimes just gives you a sweet kick in the rear instead of actually being helpful.

    But! I am in love with your drawings! That first one is definitely one I would buy in a print (because on the good days, this is how I feel about my knitting) and a good reminder to just keep knitting, knitting….

    I think your green shawl looked lovely. Don’t forget: different shawls for different occasions — that one you’re finishing is just perfect for cozying up every day…and can easily be thrown in the wash if, say, a child decides to lose his lunch on it. Not so easy with those fancy-schmancy ones made of the perfect wool from the Highlands of Scotland.

    Keep creating, Carolyn. <3

  5. I do this all the time.
    I do it with sewing. I decide to make my daughter a St. Patrick’s Day dress and I start working and just as I’ve cut out all my pieces, I discover (while endless scrolling Instagram to see who has any advice on doing pin tucks) that there is ANOTHER DRESS and it’s SO MUCH CUTER and she should have THAT ONE.
    Then I fall into a pit of despair, nothing gets made, and my husband asks me the next year why I’m buying more of that same green fabric that I profess my love for but yet never made a single solitary thing with.

    1. This is spot on. I am 47, a wife and mother of 6 ranging from almost 20 to 6. Those two are bookend boys, with four crazy sisters inbetween. Anywho, oh to be ’20’s’ again, gosh thise were my prettiest years, but with the wisdom I have now. I often observe the younger moms and think “if you only knew”! Ha!!!! It’s fun to observe.
      I too like you am an over thinker, God help me!!! I like what you said in one of your writings about ‘listening’ and letting God’s grace in. I am slowly but surely doing that. I’m drawn to St. Augustine and his dedicated mother at this point in my life. I somewhat know why but am ‘listening’ to find out exactly why!
      Have the best day! You’ve inspired me in more thought!!!😬😀


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