Hand-embroidery is all about time and the choice to spend energy on a few square inches of fabric. It's a slow process. I have been told that there are faster, better ways to do things.
I beg to differ.
Just the other day, a neighbor posted a message on Facebook: "I am looking for a place that does monogramming. I need it quick and I don't want to spend a fortune on this."
I read this post as I was taking a break from embroidering the word "Gratitude", in silk and cotton on blue corduroy. The vintage corduroy demanded that I worked with care so the nine letters in "gratitude" took over eight hours to complete. While working, I talked on the phone with my parents, I attended a zoom meeting from the SBDC network at the University of Houston (pausing to take notes). and I listened to an episode of "The Queen's Gambit".
I also had plenty of time to ponder about my neighbor's request for fast, cheap monogramming. I thought about offering my services but knew better. My monograms are lasting and beautiful, but I am neither fast nor cheap. I don't want to.
How we spend time is all that matters; I am choosing to spend mine as slowly as possible. I making every moment count, creating things that last. This isn't a race, but the opposite: a profound gratitude for every second that is granted me.
Time is a finicky thing. My eyes won't last, neither will my fingers. Someone will get sick. Friends will move. Politics will shift. Considering all the uncertainties of the world, slowness is a reasonable choice, perhaps even the wiser course of action: a profound gratitude for the present moment.
As for monograms, email me if you'd like to order one. I will make it beautiful and memorable, nothing like you've ever seen. It'll take time. All good things do.