Here’s the part where I read you the newsletter if you like that:
Hi Friends,
Back in April of 2020 I needed a hobby.
Many years before that, I had been obsessed with throwing pottery on a wheel, but that wasn’t pandemic-friendly. Knitting bores me. I love sewing, having made some clothes and quilted billions of baby blankets to warm the billions of babies my friends birthed in our 20s. Making sourdough was such a cliche that I couldn’t get on board. Puzzles infuriate me. I did get a Peloton, but I needed a hobby beyond my abs.
I picked up a cross-stitch kit, which seemed analog and cool, but also something children learn in grade school so it might match my skill level. Plus, I liked the Reddit needlepoint group tagline “When you don't know whether to make art or stab something.”
So I started there, loving the idea of taking something super precious and violating it just a bit with irreverence and sass. I took comfort in the counting that cross-stitch requires because sometimes it’s really nice to have someone tell you precisely what to do.
But eventually, counting tiny squares became tedious. I appreciate a sense of freedom (a.k.a laziness) in my art. Similarly, I like cooking but get annoyed with the exact measurements required for baking. I want to create — not do math.
I moved on to embroidery, focusing mainly on beloved quotes and portraits of my family’s dogs, because words and dogs are the only things that actually matter. I used other people’s designs then I started adapting them, adding my own elements, designing my own, and finding new layers of creative expression.
Designs via: Embroidery and Sage (1) A Lively Hope (2,3,6) OksanaBalanovska (4,5)
Fiber arts have long been dismissed and devalued. This includes sewing, quilting, needlepoint, macrame, weaving, felting, crocheting, knitting, embroidery, etc. That’s because those have historically been the realm of women (often poor women) while painting and sculpture have been dominated by men, and are therefore taken more seriously. So they were dismissed as frivolous and unimportant crafts, destined for nothing more than a folding table at a Rotary fair. This is one of the many reasons for my deep affection for it all — because that’s BS.
I love the meditative aspects of needlework, I love the pace of it, I love the color and the life in it. I’m learning the skills and different types of stitches. And I love the subtle ways to be subversive within each project.
After completing a work of embroidery, there is a common practice of finishing the back of the piece by covering it with fabric. The back of the piece is the messy part. It’s the part with the stray threads meandering around and getting tangled. So most people cover that up.
Not me.
I’ve always left the messy part visible even in the pieces that I give away. Because that’s what is authentic. You need to make a mess to make the front part look how you want it to.
A couple of weeks ago I took an online class from Badass Crosstitch. I’m a huge fan of Shannon’s work which combines art with activism. In the workshop, I learned another reason to embrace the messy parts. Back in the eighteenth century, when women were being assessed for marriageability, they would have to present the back of their needlework to their potential mother-in-law for inspection. The neater the back, the better the wife.
So I’ve decided to really fuck up that back, and be proud of it.
Shannon also taught us about knots. Needlework is tricky because there are many times that your thread gets knots in it. It’s just part of the whole thing. So there are ways to assess different kinds of knots. When everything gets tangled, you look at the type of knot you tend to get and adjust how you are working to try to avoid it.
Then Shannon said this life-changing thing — “but there is only so much analysis of the problem we can do. Sometimes you just need to cut it out, and move on.”
SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED TO CUT IT OUT AND MOVE ON.
This might be one of the most difficult parts of not only embroidery but also trying to be an emotionally healthy human. When should we annalize the problem, diving into every twist and turn — and when should we accept that life inevitably gets tangled sometimes and there is little we could have done to avoid it?
I don’t have the answer to this, but I love the fact that we all have permission to cut our losses and thread the needle again.
Here’s what else happened this week:
What I read part of
Three Years Into Covid We Still Don’t Know How To Talk About it
“What can you imagine that you couldn’t imagine before the pandemic?” When Milstein posed this to a young college student and H.V.A.C. repairman in November 2020, he immediately replied, “The end of the United States as we know it.”
I’ll be honest, this was a tough read and I kept stopping and starting. The author acknowledges this: the second paragraph includes the words, “if you’re still with me.” But there was a lot that I loved here, including the recognition that we still don’t know how to think about what has happened/is happening. We don’t even know how to frame it. We all experienced it, yet, there is so much that we are still missing.
What I watched
A Call to Spy (Netflix) I’m not recommending this for the screenwriting, nor the acting — both are kinda meh. But it was worth watching because I didn’t know this true story and I should have. Female spies were courageous and amazing in WWII and we should know about it.
What was heartwarming
Lewis Capaldi has twitches and tics, and when he was onstage and had an attack, fans finished the song for him. The video (click through to see it) chokes me up. I love people being more open about mental health issues. He didn’t need to leave the stage or apologize, he just got to show up as himself and accept the support.
What is new
I’ve got a new, free guided meditation posted on Insight Timer — Two Questions To Ask When You Worry
Inspired, of course, by my own 3 AM Doom Spiral. I hope you have zero need for such a thing, but if you do, I hope it helps.
What I’m looking forward to
I’m leading the Anxiety Management through Yoga and Writing weekend program at one of my favorite places - Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health. We’ll spend our time practicing yoga together, writing together, and learning how to deal with those inevitable challenges of life. Whether you are a total beginner to yoga and writing, or have decades of experience, you’ll find a weekend that offers you the space to reconnect and recommit to the practices that serve you. Oh, and I did this dorky video talking about the thrill of being a Kripalu centerfold.
Thank you for being here, everyone. I’m grateful for you. If you liked this, maybe share it. If you’re a free subscriber, maybe consider upgrading to get a fresh letter every week.
Much love,
~L