One of my hobbies is needlepoint, which is a form of “painting” on canvas mesh with fibers. I have been avidly pursuing this hobby for 35 years, at times being addicted to it as an addict is to dope! Then too, during periods when I’ve been working full time, the passion for it has decreased. Needlepointing is not onlyl just a hobby with me, it’s also my therapy and a means of “journaling on canvas”.
Over the past few years I have made needlepoint Xmas stockings for my husband and 2 kids. The interesting thing about the product I turn out is that it not only is beautiful and unique, but that each stitch, each finished product has a memory. For instance, my duaghter’s stocking which depicts a little girl sitting amidst a mound of Xmas presents, was stitched in 1990. I can remember stitching it as I flew to Germany to meet my long lost relatives for the first time. That stocking traveled with me through 4 countries and was shown to inquisitive Europeans who were curious about what I was working on, opening the doors to conversations I might not otherwise have had. Thus, it became not only a conversation piece, but a vehicle for meeting people and a means for breaking down the language barriers to communicate with other cultures.
My son’s stocking was partially stitched while driving through New England during the fall of 1987. The memories of the sights and sounds of that beautiful area are subconsciously etched into every stitch of the forest creatures at Christmas – the theme of his stocking. Stitching also provided a diversion and an outlet during that years’ troubled times. My thoughts and worries were woven into the mesh as I pushed the needle filled with colorful yarn in and out of each square creating a unique tapestry while affording me an outlet for working with my hands as my mind was filled with worries.
My husband’s stocking, entitled The Christmas Goose, was started during the beginning of the Persian Gulf War. I remember the security I felt from stitching that stocking as I watched with fear and apprehension the instant relay of events on television and wondering if my son would be called to service. It provided me with a safe feeling as if being with an old friend. It was an effort to stitch away my tension. I noticed that the tension in my stitches was tighter during that period, reflecting my mood. Later in the year, that project traveled with me to Burmuda where I stitched my way through Hurricane Grace, again with apprehension and fear. THe Christmas Goose stocking with the green and yellow plaid background has the tightest stitches of them all! It symbolizes memories of terrifying times.
As I look at the finished stockings hanging from the mantel every Christmas, I am not only proud of the end result but reminded of the events that were occuring during the time I worked on each one. Times when world history was being made before my eyes. Times when my family members were making their individual histories. During happy times or sad times, my needlepoint was like a safe, constant old friend. The stockings were stitched with love for my son, daughter and husband knowing that that person would be able to look at theirs every Christmas and know that I gave them something uniquely theirs from my heart to show my love for them. But, in addition to my contribution to posterity, came a feeling of assuredness for me that my needlepointing had provided me a port in the storm, so to speak; a means of working through difficult times and a pleasant addition to happier times recorded in each stitch.
April 2, 2009 at 6:38 pm |
I too have stitched several needlepoint stockings. My favorite was the one I did for my daughter. It was a Tapestry Tent design that had a little girl and boy pulling a wagon of Christmas gifts. They stop to look into a window where Santa is finishing a toy. Ah the stories I can tell about what’s happening by looking at that stocking. Now that my daughter is a grown woman with a child of her own, I plan to make a stocking for my granddaughter that continues the story.