A long time ago, in a much different lifetime, I fell in love with needlepoint. Not the kits from the craft store, or the very expensive stitch-painted canvases that cost hundreds to work and more to finish.
I wanted to do my own thing. So, I painted my own canvases and worked them with very simple materials and stitches.
I made rugs and pillows and clothing.
They were loaded with fish and flowers and butterflies.
Oh, and color! They were loaded with color.
The ideas came faster than I could work them. (Well, I had two young children and a full-time job. Excuse or explanation? It doesn’t matter.)
So, some of my flowers never got to bloom. They have been dormant in the closet in the studio for a very long time. Today I fished them out…
..along with the very first project I designed after resigning from my full-time career. Forever. And I found much more than a bunch of old, half-finished, not very good projects. I found a piece of myself that’s been missing too long. The memory of the satisfaction I felt doing these came rushing back. An avalanche of new ideas poured forth. And, although time is short for a different reason, now…I will happily fill much of it with needlepoint!