reasons i love cross stitch: a post

honeybeestitches:

• my mom used to do it when i was little and i thought she was magic that she could put her needle in and out and in and out and create something from it
• childhood obsession with various historical women who all seemed to do needlepoint as a hobby. i can’t responsible right now, i’m too busy participating in ye olde craft 
• not to get weirdly sentimental about women in point three already but that connection to the centuries of women who came before me, jabbing their fingertips with needles and worrying over whether the colors look right
• it takes up just enough of my brain that i can’t freak out about anything while i’m doing it. i have to focus. no panic!! focus only.
• that focus is so meditative. gimme that sweet, sweet meditation. there’s something so renewing to come out of it and see that you accomplished something while your brain did jack shit for two hours. 
• the immediate bond you have with anyone else who does cross-stitch. my coworker’s great aunt millie, chris hemsworth, and i all have something in common and we could definitely all party together on this basis alone
• everything looks cooler in stitch. your favorite band’s logo? a family tree? abstract trees? birds? nighthawks? literally everything
• my stitch is MINE which is to say: no one will create a stitch the same way i create one, even if we’re using the same pattern. i will always be able to tell mine apart. i am in the most infinestimial details but i am always always there.
• that shy little proud smile people get when they show off their wips. there’s nothing like it. it’s so special. protect every single one.
• giving these as gifts. there’s no better gift imo because it’s twofold: it says “i thought of you!” but it also says “i thought of you for somewhere between 8 and 600 hours” depending on how big the thing is. (those are the ranges of gifts i personally have given.) look. there’s no way for me to not sound like a creep about this. if i have given you a stitch, i have thought about you a LOT: what you like, don’t like, what your vibe is like, what your happiness is like, what we might mean to one another. sometimes it’s a home sweet home because you let me crash on your couch. sometimes it’s a seasonal sampler because you support me every day of the year. sometimes it’s more, sometimes it’s less, but it always means something.
• that moment when you hold a stitch far away and the picture solidifies into what you’re really meant to be looking at: wow
• did i count it right? did i count it right? did i count it right?
• I DID I FUCKIN DID