". . . a new nation, conceived in Liberty . . . "

~The Gettysburg Address~

As research for the "272 Words" sampler, I looked at Lincoln's transcriptions of the Gettysburg Address, in his own handwriting. He starts with these words: "Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal."

Lincoln uses "Liberty" in mid-sentence, with a capital "L," referring to the country's birth in 1776. We see many capitalized words in The Declaration of Independence, where "unalienable Rights" are "Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness." Lincoln, by contrast, uses few caps . . . to me, that makes "Liberty" stand out.

The concept of Liberty is often depicted as a female figure, and very successfully -- in Eugene Delacroix's 1830 painting, Liberty Leading the People. In Frederic Bartholdi's design (France's gift to the U.S. in 1886) of The Statue of Liberty. On U.S. coinage, as Liberty Walking -- the 1916 design by Adolph Weinman. And more recently -- The New York Liberty, the women's basketball team of the WNBA founded in 1997.

It's fantastic to see Liberty associated with female strength, bravery, and resolve. How many of our mothers, sisters, daughters and friends would fit that description? Quite a few -- no doubt about it. Now that I think of it, Liberty with a capital "L" makes perfect sense.

Liberty . . . you go, girl!

"If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?" ~Abraham Lincoln

See that shiny copper disc next to the "IRS" in the photo? That's what's left over after paying 2008 taxes.

But lookee here -- who's on the shiny disc, but Abraham Lincoln himself? The first Lincoln Penny was placed into circulation 100 years ago, on Lincoln's Centennial birthday -- February 12, 1909. The copper has been going strong ever since. Lincoln never, ever could have predicted his enduring presence on U.S. currency. When you're on the U.S. Penny and the Five Dollar Bill, who needs Facebook? Hardly a day goes by when one doesn't circulate a penny or a five dollar bill. And this year Mr. Lincoln went silver when a beautiful Commemorative Silver Dollar was released in honor of the bicentennial.

In fairness to other U.S. Presidents -- like Woodrow Wilson, for instance -- I like to carry a bit of extra cash tucked away in a change purse . . ."just-in-case" money.

This week was a toughie: I had a major counted thread setback with the "272 Words" sampler. To put it bureaucratically: mistakes were made. I miscalculated a line of stitching only to realize the disaster later than sooner. Extensive frogging ensued. Grr. Why do I always find stitching mistakes on the following day?

It can't have anything to do with my habit of stitching after midnight, when my brain power is on a par with a single-cell organism . . . can it? Nah. I suspect that someone is sneaking into my house and rearranging my stitches overnight, while I'm in the arms of Morpheus. This calls for a sting operation -- I have installed a StitcherCam which will nab the culprit in flagrante delicto. Go ahead -- make my day.

The "IRS" next to the penny in the photo is short for . . . "I'd Rather Stitch" . . . (than do all the other things I should be doing to prepare for the Easter weekend). Daffodils have arrived in Riverside Park . . . hugs and warm Easter wishes to all.

"Four score and seven years ago . . ."

Liz M. from Philadelphia asked about the font specs for the sampler. Well, here they are, photographed with a ring as a proportional gauge. The letters are a cross between primitive-style sampler letters and handwritten script.

Lincoln delivered his Gettysburg Address in November of 1863. "Four score and seven years ago" refers to 1776, when "our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation conceived in Liberty . . . " I recently watched the HBO "John Adams" series which brilliantly chronicled the events leading up to 1776. How gratifying it was to see Paul Giamatti in a formidable role, as John Adams. I'm probably the only person on the Upper West Side of Manhattan who hated "Sideways" -- an insipid film that squandered Giamatti's great talent. (But what do I know? -- "Sideways" won an Oscar.) The film is set in California wine country and supposedly had an impact on the wine industry. Heck, all I remember was a non-stop kvetch-fest between two guys. Seems to me that "Sideways" was all about the whine industry.

Hey, if you're on Jeopardy and Alex asks about the year of the Gettysburg address, simply add "four score and seven years" (87) to 1776 -- and that equals 1863. When you're stitching words at geologic speed -- usually after midnight, at an average of one word per hour -- there's time to think about these things.

Folks have asked about the photos on this blog -- the stitching, designs, etc. In a parallel universe I'm the owner of Primrose Needleworks and this is a homespun blog chronicling the creation of "272 Words," a new design. All the needlework shown on this blog is designed and stitched by yours truly. I'm using photos of published and unpublished designs under the Primrose Needleworks copyright. Most closeups are snippets of larger designs, like the scottie pic.

Holly asked that I post a photo of the scottie sampler . . . this is "Colette's Dog Sampler" and I'm sure President Lincoln would have agreed with Colette, the French author whose quotation is featured herein.

I LUV New York

On Saturday night I heard the premiere of Jorge Martin's "Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking," a cantata set to the Walt Whitman poem. This piece -- performed by Cantori New York with soprano, and seven-piece chamber ensemble -- was deeply moving and evocative. Rather than hop into a cab afterwards, we wanted to walk home and keep the music in our heads for as long as possible -- just as Whitman himself used to night-walk the streets of Manhattan.

After a champagne reception and a hugs for the excellent composer, Jorge -- we made our way into the night. A dreamy gibbous moon presided over the city. We three -- Gary, Joyce and I --strolled down the street, arm-in-arm-in-arm. For the first time in months, one could feel a warm breeze on the skin. New Yorkers were out after midnight, moving in stroll-motion, walking their dogs, chatting with neighbors. Andante. Wow, this is what winter doesn't feel like! No need to rush home to defrost. Andante.

We loosened our scarves, unbuttoned our coats and meandered down Park Avenue. At 1 a.m. a golden retriever adopted us. Wagging tail, wet nose, smiling -- the dog has three new fans. Affection ensues. We worried that the dog might be lost, until the owner appeared from around the corner, in stroll-motion. "His name is Cayenne," he says, gesturing at the dog.

And so, while Cayenne's owner told us about his 13-year-old pup, we modulated from eastern standard to daylight savings time. 1:59 a.m. became 3 a.m. -- under the dream-moon, on a warm Manhattan night, after a cantata and champagne, among friends and a golden dog. I can think of no better way to lose an hour's sleep.

I know, I know . . . what does this have to do with stitching the Gettysburg Address on linen? Everything. Art inspires art and informs every thread of our lives.

Who needs to sleep, when you can dream?

"I care not much for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not better for it" ~ Abraham Lincoln

Much is written about Lincoln's compassion towards animals. He saved his dog from drowning in an icy river. He found homes for motherless kittens. And according to some scholars, Lincoln issued the first Presidential Pardon to a Thanksgiving turkey -- now a White House tradition. I admire men who show tenderness towards animals.

Terry from Manhattan called last night to, among other things, inquire (cross examine?) about the sampler dimensions, fabric, floss specs, etc. Terry is a high-powered New York real estate lawyer who taught me cross stitch in 2001. I wouldn't be writing these words if it hadn't been for Terry's passion for cross stitch. I had long admired her stitchery, but it took her a while to get me to try it. Terry was right. The mathematical precision intrigued me and shortly after the inaugural stitch, I was hooked.

Anyone who reads Jane Austen will appreciate the role of stitching in women's lives, as requirements of everyday life. The modern woman is free of such requirements. Yet it seems that we've gone full circle. We're singing the same song, but in a different key. Now that we don't have to stitch, guess what we're doing in our spare minutes?

We're stitching.

Daily Practice

Liz from Philadelphia -- violinist, lawyer and person extraordinaire -- is ahead of the curve on good stuff. Years ago she introduced me to the Ashokan Farewell. If you watched Ken Burns' The Civil War, you heard a beautiful violin solo -- a lonely waltz that weaves through each episode. That's the Ashokan Farewell composed by Jay Ungar.

As research for the sampler, I've revisited the Burns documentary. I'm still haunted by Ungar's waltz. Yesterday I tried it out on the viola . . . hey-hey, it sounds good a fifth lower (in G major now), with the open strings and double stops. I love the dark viola sound, so intriguing, mysterious -- the Edgar Allan Poe of stringed instruments. I've arranged Beethoven's Spring Sonata for the viola, only now it sounds like a Late Autumn Sonata. That's okay by me.

This week's task is -- experimenting with fonts and thread colors for the Gettysburg Sampler. Every mega-sampler starts with a single stitch.

Happy Birthday, Mr. President!

Last night PBS aired some great programs about Abraham Lincoln, a tie-in to this day's bicentennial -- it is Lincoln's 200th birthday. It's a big day for me -- I start stitching "272 Words," the Gettysburg Address sampler which is the subject of this blog. I finally located a cut of linen large enough for the job -- leaving room for design elements that will accompany the text of the speech.

Lincoln's Gettysburg Address is hailed for its simplicity. He used plain and direct language -- a practice honed when, as a young lawyer, he reduced legal boilerplate documents to everyday language. There's no clutter in Lincoln's speeches -- but I'm surprised to learn that his office was a disaster zone. Much to his law partner's dismay, Lincoln's workstation was a cluttered mess; he kept a folder on his desk labeled -- "When You Can't Find It Anywhere Else, Look Into This."

Wouldn't "Miscellaneous" suffice?