It all begins with a ball of yarn. And the ball keeps on rolling and rolling. And sometimes it just rolls downhill without purpose, like dry tumbleweed propelled by gusts of firey wind across dusty plains. And sometimes, if the ball happens to fall in the hands of a meticulous crafts(wo)man it begins to shape up and lose its capacity to roll. It then tends to stic-k/h, to have roots and to stir feelings inside the hearts of its receivers. And that's what it's all about.