dreaming osmosis

I woke up to snow today, but the fragile accumulation of wet flakes on my bike seat is nothing compared to the pile of work teetering precariously on my desk at the studio. This change in the weather (wasn't it a week ago that I was sweating in my flip flops?) also calls for a change in my wardrobe.

What knitter isn't secretly pleased to pull out her woolens after a summer of lightweight cottons, even if it is at the threat of a hard frost or a blizzard?

Today I'm wearing my Koolhaas cap and I can't help but remember two years ago when I gritted my teeth over this lovely design. I had to have it, but each time I cast on and finished the ribbing something went wonky with the way I was working the stitches. Those of you Brooklyn Tweed enthusiasts (and who isn't?) will know that the pattern is based on the Seattle Public Library, designed by the architect Rem Koolhaas.

We're studying Koolhaas at school right now. Reading his essays and drooling over his work. The fact that I have knitted a half dozen Koolhass hats doesn't seem to give me an edge. And I think it should.

Some of you may wonder what cured my initial confusion over this pattern. I was enlightened by a more experienced knitter who took one look at my twisted first cap and asked me what direction I was reading the pattern from. I then realized that I was reading the pattern backwards, the way you would read a book, not a knitting chart.

Knit and learn, I guess.

As far as my Koolhaas cap goes, maybe I'll have to start wearing it to bed. Osmosis may be my only chance.