Embroidering your past

I’m sure that Mom was looking down from heaven last summer, asking “So, now you’re going to take up feminine things?”

As a child, I was so not into dolls or dress up. Give me a set of Legos or a wagon of Playskool wooden blocks, or better yet, let me run around with the boys playing shoot ’em up, and I was happy. Sewing in home ec? Yuk, okay, I had to do it, but once was enough. My sister was the girls’ girl who made her own clothes and did cross-stitch.

But for some reason, when I saw the Penland workshop on Embroidering Maps, I was intrigued. So I had to skulk into Michael’s and pretend I had a clue about buying the right supplies, trying to blend in with the crowd.

I had a ball in the class. Taking cues from a talented and encouraging instructor, Melinda Barta, I did a map of my journey of discovery into the visual arts [pictured above], of my home town of West Seneca, NY, and of a food Chicago is famous for, its hot dogs. I found out how relaxing, almost meditative, embroidery is, and that it didn’t have to mean old-fashioned.

And I’m sure it made my mother happy.