When I was Young I fell in love with a moth. He was a caterpillar then, all furry and beautiful. I kept him in a matchbox and sneaked lettuce up to him. He died. I think I've been trying to say sorry ever since, and am always kind to moths and butterflies. Who would hurt a butterfly? But to love something before it metapmorphoses, to me, says a lot about me. And killing it.
This week I fell in love with satin stitch and embellishments. I have had a needle in my hand for most of it. Almost as messy as paper cutting and just as satisfying. I love the absorption of it. I love the old maidish connotation and the pretty silks.
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