Blog post number 700. My mind has been swirling with questions about olives. Why if you leave them on the counter, they don’t get fuzzy? Why do they stay supple for long periods of time with no preservatives? Is the perfect olive the answer to many joint problems and health issues? I have no idea. I am not sure I want to write an entire post listing all of my questions about the olive. I think posting blog number 700 should be about passion. The perfect olive can wait a bit longer.
I have a little game that I play. While driving around our community and I spy a new building being built, I say out loud & with my fingers crossed, “Oh, I hope it will be a Cross Stitch Shop”? More than likely it will be another Nail Salon, Drug Store Chain or Check cashing place. (who cashes so many checks that we need several brick and mortar stores?) The latest disappointment is an empty building with enormous amount of square footage that would make a mega stitchery shop. Only to discover, yesterday, that it is to be a Fitness Center. dag nabbit.
I relish the time I spend stitching. Using my hands to create, quite possibly an heirloom, of value. That honest value feeds my heart and soul. It brings value to who I am. I am carrying on the time honored tradition of counted cross stitch. I am proud of my hand crafted completed works (in many cases) of art. I enjoy show n tell with my niece who also has a love of counted cross stitch. While each craft person, has a favorite count of fabric and favorite thread company they use, the general art form is the same.
When our boys were much younger, I would sit for hours upon hours and stitch while they worked through their home work. I would stitch while they did their silent reading. I would sit on the park bench as they tackled many a playground and yes, I would stitch. Some evenings they would get one hour television time. I would stitch and listen to the show or two of their choice. Winter weekends would include a movie and you guesser Chester, I would stitch. Sometimes now, when I watch a movie for the second time, I have little or no recollection of the first go round. Sure I was one tired momma. However, more realistically, I was counting and stitching.
If you take a look around our home, there are some beautiful, framed Counted Cross Stitch Samplers that took close to 100 hours each. I have smaller pieces as well. I also have a drawstring bag that holds rolled up completed projects, waiting in the “to be framed” section of my life. I have a box of patterns that are waiting to “get the call” and become reality. I have a couple of spoiled projects that I keep as gentle reminders of what not to do.
Currently, my favorite medium to work upon is Irish Linen. I have taken quite a fancy to Samplers, so there are several on our walls. That moment when I unfold or unroll the fabric and make that initial X in the middle to mark the center, feeds my passion. I stitch the edge so it won’t unravel in the many hours I will handle it. I take out the pattern, make my own personal notes on the sides, mark the date I begin, find the center and make that very first stitch. With several milestones in between, that final stitch is soul fulfilling. The accomplishment gracefully pushes my swing.
Today, 30 plus years later, when I stitch and sew and quilt, I use a special lamp, and I wear my glasses. I have taught several people how to cross stitch. Actually, how many people do you know who cross stitch today? It is an art form that is not quite as popular as years ago. I stitch from my heart. Yes, I have created a few Masterpieces and many small pieces of pure goodness. I pray for and hope for good Karma for young married couples as I stitch their new monograms. I pray for young children as I stitch their Sampler gift. I stitch Chrismon ornaments to give as gifts and yes, I stitch love and hope and prayers into each gift.
When grandgirlie number two was born, I did not have the mental skill to finish her birth sampler. Then for a several month period I “misplaced” the pattern. Her 2nd Birthday is in March. I am determined to complete and have framed her Sampler. Once I complete it, like homework needing completion, I will feel somehow “released” to move on to other projects.
My Dad’s family is from Bruges, Belgium. They have been teaching and making lace, for several centuries. There is evidence to suggests lace making has been on going since Ancient Roman Times. Do I get my love of repetitive and even stitches from my ancestors? Is the need to create with my hands built into my DNA? Do I love to stitch because I can control the rhythm or the simple fact that I have complete control over how the piece will come to life?
Passion gracefully pushes my swing. On the days when I feel lost or mixed up, I listen to my soul and I get out my needle and thread. I wish for you genuine passion in your life. You are welcome to come over and share show n tell any time. I would love to see what your passion has created through your handiwork.
If you can’t figure out your purpose, figure out your passion. For your passion will lead you right into your purpose.
ps. just know I am having olives for my afternoon snack.