I really wanted a cigarette last week. It's been 13 years since I quit smoking and that does not stop the urge. I really wanted a cigarette last week. On Wednesday I woke up in a cold sweat believing I had started smoking again (because that inevitably means that I would have to quit again). Tension is as tension does.
So my stitching is frenetic. Punching the needle into the cloth with a frenzy that borders on manic.
Health questions in the family generated this invasive species.
Cypress trees on a stress-reducing walk reminded me of the new leaders walking into office — dark and foreboding figures.
An automatic stitching exercise reveals how my head is untethered and askew. Paula Kovarik, 2016
I am focusing on both detail and fuzziness. Big ideas are too big, details mimic the tension.
The fuzzy thinking, edgy tension and churning stomach will end sometime. For now, I will continue stitching, allowing the stitch to tell my story.
Breathe in, breathe out. I am grateful for that.
And I won't light up a cigarette.
The automatic stitching cloth grows larger every day. Paula Kovarik, 2016