Threads

I've been away on vacation, and I will write more about that later, but I need to talk about where I am today. I am working on a needlepoint tapestry, and much like a woman in Victorian times, I have it before me, stretched across a hoop, the colored threads weaving in and out of its pattern. It depicts a Renaissance woman, her heavy skirts draping around her chair to the floor, as she stitches a tapestry of her own. At her feet, two cats curl in lazy slumbering balls, and beyond the window of her gray castle walls, a lush garden beckons.

I work the tapestry one stitch at a time, wishing I could hasten the task to its completion, see it framed, have it hung upon the wall. I think of the women who lived in my house long ago, working at their own stitchery, and I wonder what happened to those fine pieces of art, none of which seem to be in existence today. I think of them living in this house, alone, sewing their lives away, one stitch at a time. Not so very different from me...

And yet, in my tapestry, there is a loose thread. A slender piece of silk, it keeps slipping loose, falling to the floor, catching itself on the chair or the rug or whatever happens to be the closest at hand, refusing to be called back. Even when I think I have it knotted, it slips loose again, forcing me to find it, pull it back, make it a part of the picture, so that the picture will be complete.

I'm tired of that thread. I'm tired of its distracting me from my work. I'm tired of the chase for it, spending my energy on a piece of thread that offers me nothing in return. I'm tired of needing its color to brighten the work at hand. I'm tired of seeing its consistency as so unique that it can't be replaced. I'm very, very tired. The scissors will cut it, but what will happen then to the spaces that color was meant to fill? I can't imagine another that will match its vibrant hue...

I must put this work aside for now, and wait...hope...live with uncertainty of the outcome. I must accept that the space on my wall will remain bare for now...