*When she was in high school, her father had shared one of his most cherished possessions with her: His very own Minolta X-700 camera. As a child, she’d been in awe of it: the satisfying kashhhunk sound of the shutter’s release, the way that a simple turn of lens could bring things into focus while softening the world around them. She’d counted the days until it would be hers, and senior year, she took photography and was rewarded. The treasured Minolta was now hers. He’d taken her on so many outings when she was little, to see life through that lens. That small 50mm lens had let her focus on a single bloom of goldenrod, had captured the late afternoon sunlight as it filtered lazily through the oaks by their camp, the love glow from their family dog’s round, soulful eyes. One of the first lessons her father instructed her in was aperture. “You always have to let the light in.” her father had told her. “If you don’t let the light in, the whole picture is ruined.”
Most days now she leaned heavily on her high-tech automatic camera. It was easy to flit through hundreds of photos, deleting what didn’t suit. The pictures didn’t feel special, they felt replaceable, and while they came out good it was easy enough to just snap more. She leaned heavily on the busyness, adapting fluidly to it and running from one thing to another like a spring creek. The moments of space in between, though…those moments of space were another world.
During one of those moments, she came across the old camera case in their cedar chest. Draughts of comforting cedar and antiques rose from the wood as she opened the lid. Lifting out the camera, she was struck by how many years it had been since its strap had hung from her neck. How many years it’d been since… so much time had elapsed. She squinted, studying the lens- it was still so clean. Running a finger along the top edge, she remembered relishing the limited number of exposures. The shot compositions were slow, measured, careful. They couldn’t be deleted once taken. This was what she needed in the space between. She would focus- on letting the light in, and allowing the things in the world around her to just…soften. She cuffed her sleeves and popped open a canister of 35mm film. She would become aperture.*

This sweater is dedicated to my father, his love of photography, and the way he taught me to see the world through the lens. Aperture is just that- a slow, intentional approach to knitwear. It feels like a memory, a hug, a moment when focusing on the simple things softens the world around you.

Intended to be worn with 4-10” / 10-20 cm positive ease. Size 40” / 113 cm modeled with 8”/20 cm positive ease.

Total Yardage: 1200, 1305, 1410, 1545, 1650, 1730, 1835, 1940, 2045 yds / 1097, 1193, 1289, 1413, 1509, 1582, 1678, 1774, 1870 m

Notions: 4 stitch markers, stitch holders or spare yarn, tapestry needle for weaving in ends

Note: Sweater is worked from the top down, flat to start and then joined in the round at front when neckline shaping is completed.