Because I'm preparing for
the trunk show on Thursday I rummaged through my piles of recent work.
When I unfolded three of the millennium journals I came across "Trees in Winter", the panel that I worked on in early 2007 during the difficult time when my mother was dying.
She would ask me "Where's your stitching?" when I came in to sit with her and I'd take it out. I stitched and we breathed together.
Reading these snippets of couched text brings back that intense time in my life.
It's revealing to me that there are spelling mistakes in many of the words. Several i's are not dotted, t's not crossed.
Because I'm preparing for the trunk show on Thursday I rummaged through my piles of recent work. 
When I unfolded three of the millennium journals I came across "Trees in Winter", the panel that I worked on in early 2007 during the difficult time when my mother was dying.
She would ask me "Where's your stitching?" when I came in to sit with her and I'd take it out. I stitched and we breathed together. 
Reading these snippets of couched text brings back that intense time in my life. 
It's revealing to me that there are spelling mistakes in many of the words. Several i's are not dotted, t's not crossed. 
2 comments:
i did some of my most intense stitching while my father was ill. i feel it helped me deal with a painful time and now as i look back i think it was the final gift my father gave me. it pushed me to retire and make stitching my life.
Just found your blog and I love it! your work is stunning!
Post a Comment