Stitch By Stitch, We Quiet the Bitch

It's been about 4-5 days since I have been on the computer to do any sort of "recreational" stuff as checking in w/my on-line groups, reading and answering email, or playing Spider Solitaire.

My hours ~ a many long number of them ~ have been spent in trying to iron out my business plan.

In order to better understand what was required in writing a business plan ~ particularly the "financial" part ~ I had been communicating with a represent from SCORE (Service Corps of Retired Executives) and our local economic development office.

And I was trying to patch the hole in the bubble that was burst and salvage whatever bits of my enthusiasm I had left.

Yeah, I was depressed and disheartened.

But that was not something that I wanted to plaster all over the infinite walls of cyberspace. The web is already littered enough with the detritus of spewed negativity and toxicity of its less-than-discerning authors.

I did not want to contribute to that toxic dump.

So I decided to wait until my mood had lifted and I was once more in a "better place."

One of the things that I did during that period was to take up the needle and thread.

It started Saturday night ~ the first day of my funk ~ when I decided to repair a hole in the pocket of my favorite jeans before throwing them into the wash.

I found a piece of material, making sure that it would cover the hole and then some. Then I began the slow rhythm of methodical stitching.

Halfway into my repairs I noticed that my mood had lifted. I was actually feeling calm. Revelling in this feeling of calm, I deliberately focused on my stitches.

Doing that small job of hand-stitching felt as though I was returning home after a long absence. How could I have allowed myself to go so long without having such a calm and grounding task occupy my fingers?

After the jeans were patched and washed, I knew what I had to do.

I went upstairs and found Neil's old denim jacket from the mid-70s. It no longer fitted him; so I commandeered it and set about to reincarnating it into a vest.

Not just any vest.

An art vest.

I have always loved to embroider. Not being satisfied w/having embroidery be simply a form of embellishment, I had the lofty goal of elevating it into a fine art form. I found embroidery to be a wonderful ~ and forgiving ~ medium for illustration.

It has been years since I have completed "St. Sally Exorcising the Furnace Demons," an embroidered illustration of my mother in the cellar in front of an old furnace. (And yes, there is a story that goes with that. But you'll have to wait.)

Working on "St. Sally" gave me much pleasure. It was the first time that I truly understood and appreciated the creative process ~ maybe because it was the first time that I was possessed that profoundly by the process.

"St. Sally" was not a piece that I worked on constantly with the mad goal to have a finished product as soon as possible. Rather, it was a "travelling project" ~ one that I would take with me to waiting rooms, jury duty, visits with the family.

Days, sometime weeks, would go by before I would take needle and thread to "St. Sally." And like meeting with an old friend whom you haven't seen in years, it was like picking up from where you last left off.

As such, it took me 5 years to complete "St. Sally."

Yes, I was proud to have finally completed this impressive body of work. But I was also sad. "St. Sally" had kept me company all those years, teaching me things that I would have not learned on my own. There was now this huge void in my life.

For years I have not been able to fill that void the way "St. Sally" did. That is not to say that I haven't tried. Oh! How I tried indeed.

Now, three nights ago, while I was patching a hole in my pocket I realized what was missing and how I may fill that void.

Here is this denim jacket ~ now a vest ~ waiting to be the blank canvas for my next embroidered illustration.