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This morning  has been a bit rubbish to tell you the truth, and it has all been of my own making.

I went to a really great gig last night, a couple of friends were playing the support spot, so that’s always fun…

Anyway… you don’t need to know the ins and outs, and frankly I would be embarrassed to list all the reasons here, but afterwards I was feeling full of self pity, self doubt, I felt stupid, inadequate, pathetic. I had full knowledge in the rational part of my brain that this was ridiculous, and yet the emotional part of my brain continued the tantrum. Toys were thrown out of a pram and I should have been placed on the naughty step until I had had time to think about what I had done. Wasn’t there a Supernanny formula that you should spend a minute on the step for every year of your life? Well, it took me more than 54 minutes to get myself out of it.

In the end I took to stitching. Yes! You remember stitching? The activity that keeps everything right with the world? Well it seems I had forgotten.

So having thrown my breakfast in the bin, and spilled my tea down my jumper. I decided to stitch. As soon as I had made the decision I knew it was right. I have absolutely no idea what I am stitching. Except that I decided I had to take something pretty and then proceed to make it not pretty. I expect there are all sorts of metaphors in there, but they don’t matter at the moment. Just keep stitching. I have not stitched like this since the bras were finished. I have been stomping about, feeling unsettled and unfocussed.

 

So I start the stitching. I already know, three hours in, that all will be well. This may well end up as “a piece of work”. Or it might not. It doesn’t matter, really, it doesn’t. Process over product.

I posted a bit of video about drawing a while back. Now I post a little video of me stitching at the beginning of this piece. There is something about the sound the needle makes as it punctures the silk, and the sound the cotton thread makes as it is drawn through. I may transfer these sounds to a song at some point.

Obsession and compulsion.

I remind myself that I have in the past stitched myself into a state where medical intervention is necessary. So there has to be something in it right? My stitching is akin to a fix. As I sit here doing it, I really and truly can feel stuff being released into my brain and sloshing about my blood stream. My blood pressure is reduced, and I reach a trance like state induced by the rhythm and the textures and the sounds…

 

I’ll be back….


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