We all have comfort zones. Sometimes it’s a physical place – a comfortable chair, under the covers, in front of a mindless television show. It might also be a happy place we think about. We retreat to them when life overwhelms us.
I have comfort zones with my art. When I’m unsure of myself I go back to where I began. Needlework. I’ve been doing needlework for as long as I can remember. Everything from simple embroidery and cross stitch to petit point and complex Jacobean crewel work. Kits, free form, patterns… it’s all goodness.
A week or so ago I decided I needed to stitch. The diagram of the rib cage is from a medical illustration. I just printed it out and traced it on the back using an embroidery transfer pencil to copy it onto the linen. The heart is a little piece of hand dyed wool felt. I used straight stitch throughout.
Believe it or not, I have a stash of needlework pieces like this. For me it is about the process, not so much the end result. They are scattered around in the garage. Someday I might frame them. Or use them all in a quilt. Or not.