September 21, 2016 1 min read

I try to practice hand stitching daily. I don’t yet know why, but it calls to me. Maybe it’s silly, but I’m just sure this skill is part of my big cosmic puzzle in some way. So, I do this, and as it turns out, I also love it.

I use small squares of linen or cotton which I have pre-cut and a tiny little 4 inch hoop that fits nicely in a zip lock sandwich baggie in my purse (nothing fancy here). I mostly doodle, although I have one piece scrawled with my favorite mantra, “Rainbows aren’t araid of anything.” That’s right, I forgot the “f” in “afraid”, whoops. It makes me smile though, because it reminds me how excited I was to spell words with thread.
First curiosity, then play. These are the true-leaves, first growth of creativity.
I have no rules for myself other than to stitch what feels good. I am learning the intimate feel of each stitch and the empty spaces in between. I love it all, come what may.
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