stitch therapy

tombstone

"Life can be compared to a piece of embroidered material of which, everyone in the first half of his time, comes to see the top side, but in the second half, the reverse side. The latter is not so beautiful, but is more instructive because it enables one to see how the threads are connected together"

Arthur Schopenhauer, as quoted in The Schopenhauer Cure, by Irvin Yalom.

The thing I want to let go of is bound to me, or it seems, I bind it to me.... Just like this dead flower that I bind to this cloth. When the flower rested in a jar on my desk, and was in full bloom, it absorbed many memories clothed in hope. Now the flower is mummified and frozen and what it absorbed has left. Does this psychological binding-up have a meaningful purpose? Is the binding a form of protection (like binding up a wounded arm) or is it a fear of loss (like binding to me what is dead and should be left behind)?... Maybe I bind up this flower to make it a tombstone for my pain. And then I can allow this pain to rest and breathe and be what it needs to be. And to remind myself if I feel, I am alive.

jumbled:

I forgot to post this piece which I made recently. It will be another page in my open book. I am making them all individually then will think more about how they will be constructed together... The background colour has been made with transfer dye using dried whole camomile flowers as a resist. The same flowers I use in my tea at night sometimes when I am feeling anxious and can't sleep....

page one:

Page one of open book ... more to come...

emotional alchemy:

I am embroidering a healing narrative on to my baby dress. I want it to be a form of emotional alchemy - the idea of iron to gold, poison to medicine, wounds to healing... This will be part of my 'open book'... I am finding it hard to stitch the words, they are scratchy and scrawly as if written with gnarled hands, and there is a resistance to stitching them, as if a part of my life can't face the wounds.... But that is as it should be maybe.. I believe the pain we avoid/push down/run away from is the same pain that, if we have the courage to face square on, we can find strength, beauty, authenticity and hope inside.

I have very much been encouraged recently by reading a book my Miriam Greenspan "Healing through the dark emotions" and it has given me much hope about the value of being authentic and 'befriending' what we call the dark emotions, because within these emotions lies wisdom. It is only when we can't face these dark emotions they become toxic in our lives. And it is only when we face them we can transform them.

Sometimes the only way is through... keep stitching....

closed book: open book

Finally things are starting to take shape in my mind.

Huzzah!

The ideas thus far:

Currently exploring the idea of a 'closed book' and the transformation to an 'open book'. Closed book: the broken parts of me, hidden parts, the parts that can't be named, that don't have a language, that are too dark to be seen even in light, the parts that are shadows..... Stacked up and ready to be bound, but still exploring binding techniques:

And the 'open book': the part that is braver, vulnerable, can reveal, can resolve, can find strength within the darkness and confusion, the part that is vital and alive, the part that is imperfect but thrives in its imperfection because that's where the beauty lies...... I am not sure how to construct this book, currently experimenting with techniques, but I know all the pages will be revealed at once....

a long post about where I'm not at:

currently I am here:

It is not at all where I thought I wanted to be.

why am I here??

I must investigate.... *dons deer stalker cap*

So far I have been focusing on making foundation cloths to later work into, potentially with stitch and text. Initially I was working with the theme of childhood - trying to piece together broken fragments of feelings and memories, those that are maybe too fleeting to be truly captured, or have been buried deep down or created before there was a language to understand them even.... But it now feels it has become something more than that... more connected to where I am at right now. I just can't seem to take root and focus...

This weekend I visited my mums and rescued some of my childhood clothing that was hidden in the attic. I thought it could hold some kind of inspiration, something to lead somewhere....

Here are my teeny tiny red shoes: