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I needed a three-inch circle on the back of a denim jacket, and I owned no compass, no template, and

My first bullion knot looked like a tiny bird had built a nest on my linen. A sad, lopsided nest.

My early samplers looked like seismograph readings. Stitches marched across the fabric in every size except the same size, and

I stitched a fox for a nursery hoop in 2022, all soft oranges and cream, and it was lovely until

I outlined an entire botanical print in backstitch once, every stem, every leaf vein, every curling tendril. It looked like

My first attempt to blend thread colors was a sunset I stitched for my kitchen wall in 2021. I used

The first time I needed the lazy daisy stitch, it was 9:40 p.m. and I had promised my sister a

I stitched “love” on a wedding gift in 2020 and the final e leaned so hard it looked drunk. The

My first satin-stitched leaf looked like corduroy. Ridges, valleys, and three bald gaps where the linen showed through like a

My first french knots looked like tiny tumors. Lopsided, half-buried lumps of DMC 321 that sat on the fabric like