"I walk slowly, but I never walk backward"
Slow and steady progress, and with each step, the goal is closer, though not yet visible. Every stitcher knows the feeling of being immersed in a project that seems to have no end. One stitch after the other, and one day you see a light at the end of the tunnel. I'm still looking for the light . . . one stitch after another.
The concept of "a stitching room of one's own" is borrowed from Virginia Woolf's 1929 book A Room of One's Own. Woolf believed that a woman needed a designated space and resources (otherwise known as cash) to write. It's interesting to apply this to stitchers -- having a room to think, create, and listen to a threaded needle as it passes through linen. And man, oh, man -- Virginia was right about the "cash" thing . . . you need cash for stash.
Years ago, when my parents bought their house, my mother claimed a closet-sized room with a window as her sewing room. In no time, the room was filled to the ceiling with fabric bolts, ribbons, button boxes, thread cones and a black Singer sewing machine. We kids called it "The Twilight Zone" because it was unlike any room in the house.
Today, my mom still keeps her stitching room. A red geranium blooms out of control on the window sill, and the room is still ceiling-high with sewing paraphernalia. Though she has plenty of space to expand into other rooms (empty nests now), she elects to keep her separate sewing place.
I don't have a designated stitching space -- I use my music room, which doubles as a string quartet room when friends come over to rehearse. It's also a writing/painting/practice area. Boy, Virginia Woolf was right -- a designated "creation" space is essential.
What is your stitching room like?