The connection of manus to crochet is obvious because you must, of necessity, use your hands to crochet.
The slip knots, the yarn overs, the pull throughs, all require you to use your hands in coordination with your brain.
That last part is where things get tricky.
The connection of infestus is less straight-forward, but just as true. Crochet derives much of its power from being a subversive act that can — and sometimes does — topple orthodoxy. It allows a crocheter to lay claim to her power by making anything she wants.
And therein lies the power — the hands become the vehicle for the expression of thought through as simple or complex a series of loops as the crocheter desires.
Crochet is a journey, not a destination.
While you may, in your lifetime, finish individual projects, you will never be done with crochet — nor will it be done with you. There will always be something new to learn, a need to be filled with a blanket or a bag or a hat or a pair of gloves.
You will always be a crocheter on the road to somewhere.
It all starts with a chain.
Everything begins somewhere, and all crochet begins with a chain.
The loop of a slip knot secured to a hook then pulled through that first yarn over is where all crochet adventures begin.
Even “chainless” foundations are not chainless; they are simply a different way to create the loops and stitches that comprise the start of any crochet piece.
Each stitch is an opportunity to learn.
One of the joys of crochet is this: Each time you put the yarn over your hook and pull one loop through another, you are opening yourself to the possibility of a new world.
That you will, through the repetition of a few deft strokes, create a thing that has not been created before, and in the act of creation, you too will be changed.
There is no wrong way to crochet.
A crochet project might not come out the way you envision it, the execution of a stitch may fall short of your platonic ideal, but crochet is an act, not an end; there is no wrong way to do it.
Crochet is not knitting.
No matter how many people see your work and say to you, “My grandmother/aunt/cousin” knits, crochet is NOT knitting. And although it is not usually a good idea to define your work by what it isn’t, in the case of crochet, sometimes that is exactly what must be done.
Crochet is a mode of communication.
You can say a lot with crochet.
You can be quiet, you can be loud, you can be stealthy, or you can be open, but most important, you can be yourself.
Crochet connects the past to the future.
You have a doily that your great aunt made or an afghan that your grandmother crocheted for you. You find a vintage dress at a thrift store. Somewhere somebody before you made this thing, and now it is yours.
The dreams and thoughts the maker had as she made the object that is now in your possession, are not only woven into the object, they are woven into the fabric of your life.
Crochet is only bounded by your imagination and the amount of time available for you to do your work.
You can make anything with crochet.
Need a purse? Make one. Need a toy pig or a warm hat? How about an elephant pillow or a lampshade? All of these are things you can make for yourself or for someone else.
The only thing that can stop you, is you.
Crochet is not a hobby; it’s about world domination.
Some people don’t understand the value of crochet; they dismiss it as “cute” or “quaint.”
But crochet is isn’t cute or quaint; it is vital and strong and it is the fabric of our lives which we can make ourselves — one stitch at a time.