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.