Hopeful embroidery.

https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/NellyMakesEmbroidery?ref=shop_sugg

Over the weekend I finished an embroidery project. It was my first ever piece of embroidery, and I am quite proud of it. It was another form of therapy that I sought out during lockdown for feelings that seemed to have no end. I have noticed this about myself before, that with extreme emotion comes a sudden outlet of creativity, but I thought it only extended to writing and performing. In fact, I thought myself completely inept at any artistry that involved painting, needles or drawing. It was another thing in my life that I had prematurely signed myself off from but, unlike running, it was an activity I constantly desired to settle down and do. Lockdown, being temporarily unemployed, and living through a period of extreme discontent opened up the time I needed to discover a different creative side to myself.

Actually, this side was awakened within me on a random trip to Hobby Craft just before last Christmas from which I spontaneously bought watercolours and paintbrushes. Much to my dismay, just by buying these products I did not immediately acquire the ability to paint well. I expressed this dismay to a close friend on our trip to Paris in December after we saw some students sketching in the Père Lachaise cemetery, complaining that I just did not have the inbuilt talent needed for that kind of art. She disagreed that this could ever be the case and argued that most artistic talent is about building up a skillset that anyone can learn. I wasn't convinced, but at the same time I didn't stop thinking about her take on the matter. Just before I went travelling I sat down with my watercolours, looked up a YouTube tutorial and miraculously produced a watercolour bee. It is not a groundbreaking piece of art, but it looks like a bee and I had frankly astonished myself that had managed to produce it.

Then came lockdown and I found myself with more time to practice painting. I got better at it because I took the time to learn, and copy, and have patience with producing the final piece. I now have a small collection of paintings that I feel proud of.

Then came heartbreak, as I must have mentioned about 100 times now, and for a week or two I couldn't bring myself to do anything at all. The only thing I could manage to do was read, and I found myself drawn to a collection of essays called The Curse of the Boyfriend Sweater by Alanna Okun. Okun wrote so lovingly about her passion for crafting and the way it has seen her through periods of anxiety, grief, heartbreak and longing that I felt quite inspired to give it a go.

I was desperate for some form of distraction, for a way to move through my pain. I found myself wanting to gain something out of my pain, too. I wanted a physical manifestation of my progress. I wanted to work hard at something that I would one day look back on and say "Look how far I've come." In the past, this desire to do something with emotional pain has resulted in a play at the Edinburgh Fringe. This time it has resulted in a few things, one of which being a beloved piece of embroidery.

I searched Etsy for an embroidery kit to teach me the way and allow me to create something pretty and special. I found the perfect one, and waited impatiently for it to arrive in the post.

The design took me a couple of months to complete. I would work on it listening to podcasts and in the evening watching the television with my family. I would even go to it when I felt sad, just to be able to do something with my hands and make my thoughts slow down. Embroidery came to be something that could make me feel so wonderfully serene, that could work away painful feelings without ignoring them or pushing them away.

I taught myself the techniques and spent hours on tiny little things that ended up looking like flowers. I used to think that I couldn't bear the fiddliness of the needle and thread, that it would drive me mad. In fact, it did the opposite, it made me calmer and provided another form of meditation.

My Granny is the queen of craft. She has created the most exquisite pieces throughout her life, some of which have ended up in exhibitions. She has spent many hours attempting to teach me how to knit, casting on for me on several occasions, only for me to give up after about 20 rows each time. I always thought that in that regard I had been a disappointment, unable to take on her endless talent. My Granny may not have very much time left in our world, but the other day I was able to show her my first piece of embroidery. She thought that it was beautiful and we got to share a sweet and special moment of love formed out of what I had created. When I started the piece I did not expect this to be an outcome, but I am so happy that she knows her legacy did not go to waste on me.

I can't say that I will ever produce anything as beautiful as my Granny did, but I have a feeling that embroidery might stay with me for a long time. It is too peaceful, too lovely to give up on now. The design that I embroidered has the word "hope" in the middle and colourful, wonderful flowers sprout out around the word jubilantly. That is why it was so perfect, and it did not fail to please.