Bewitching Stitching

Inhale, exhale. In, out. Up, down. Over, under.

The rhythm of cross-stitch has always been hypnotic to me once I settle into the task. From gathering supplies to admiring my finished project, almost every step is soothing and pleasant.

An urge to stitch, a desire to occupy my mind with repetitive, easy work, is my signal to choose a project. Between the cross-stitch Facebook groups and Pinterest, I’ve amassed dozens of patterns on my Etsy wish list and a few more in my physical stash, and I revel in choosing one. Am I in more of a hummingbird mood, or cat? Do flowers resonate with me at present, or should I choose the beautiful globe with “Explore” on it? How about that ombre pineapple?

I often choose patterns based on my favorite colors, which makes gathering floss for a project a heart-soaring delight. Whether vivid or muted, highly saturated or pastel, the rich hues of the embroidery floss enchant me. I could, and have, spent afternoons sorting my skeins into rainbow order or other pleasing color schemes.

By holding the soft aida in my hands I feel calmer and more grounded. Higher quality material makes moving the needle through the fabric that much smoother. I’m not yet so bold as to stitch on linen, as I rely on a grid to help me catch any potential mistakes. Once I get over the hurdle of intimidation, I’m sure I will love working with linen. Pieces completed on this even-weave are always a delight to behold.

It’s extremely satisfying to complete large swathes of a single color because it feels like a great deal has been accomplished with minimal time spent threading my needle or counting stitches. My mind has opportunity to meander and lightly focus on the podcast or music playing.

Seeing the motif come together, bit by bit, is rewarding. Each stitch helps your mind interpret the image, much like an Impressionist painting’s brushstrokes or pixels on a computer screen. It feels as if you’re blinking so that you can focus, and once you do, the sight is beautiful.

Some of my favorite pieces I’ve stitched are notable artworks adapted for cross-stitching. While I work, I wonder about the artists, how they came to create this masterpiece, and their lives. Recreating the work, stitch by stitch, gives me a greater appreciation for their use of color and themes featured in their art. For instance, I finally noted the church in Van Gogh’s Starry Night, the one that couldn’t be seen from the Van Gogh’s window but that he included regardless.

I don’t only stitch famous paintings. Another significant project I completed was the “Mr. & Mrs.” encircled by a rustic wreath of flowers. I started it about a month before my wedding day, and had it finished and framed by three months after being married. It now hangs in our bedroom, reminding me every day of the excitement I felt as newlywed.

I’ve been stitching in spells ever since I had to find a quiet, calm activity to occupy my time following a surgery when I was seven. Even at an early age, I found humor in my mistakes, such as the time I manage to stitch my pants to my project. I was obviously in a Zen state, because I hadn’t noticed until I had to take a break. My mother didn’t find this as amusing as I did. Having a sense of humor about mistakes keeps me from taking a hobby meant to soothe too seriously. Besides, errors have their benefit: more time to spend stitching.

Cross-stitching has been crucially beneficial in my life by being an activity that calms but still engages, teaches me to find humor in anything, and that holds life’s little pleasures of color and contemplation.