If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

Thursday, June 26, 2014

More than a family tree...

Creativity is something that everybody has just a wee touch of in their bones.

Some people have stronger veins of creativity than others.  

They think beyond the commonplace and come up with things that are new...

different...

and beautiful.

I am fortunate to have been surrounded by creativity as I was a girl growing up.

(Section of a cross-stitched sampler made by my Granny)

I learned to do some stitching at the hands of masters.
(A combination of crewel embroidery, cross-stitch, and applique using linen and felt)

I don't know that I could create masterpieces like those masters.
(It found the way to me and now hangs beautifully in my bedroom.)

I don't even know if I have the patience to spend my hours creating beautiful works like they have.
(The colors of Granny's stitchery coordinate beautifully with the painting on the adjacent wall.)

I am grateful that I was taught the craftsmanship so that I can appreciate the labor, the intensity, the tenacity, and the artistry of stitchery.
(I purposely hung it there so it could be seen from the doorway and it would warm up the space.)

I also appreciate how time and inspiration has been marked and passed down from generation to generation.
(Granny's handwritten documentation on the back side.)

It encourages me to leave some sort of legacy to my descendants just as my ancestors and mentors have done for me.

This post was brought to you by a cross-stitched sampler hand-crafted by my Granny that has become part of my inheritance.  I love how she personalized it to pass along the history as she knew it.  The inscription on the back makes me realize that as I was a young colt romping and galloping along, learning to be a woman, and living care-free, Granny was settled into domesticity, living in a household that would now be considered an empty nest, and creating beauty that has a lasting impact.  Ah...the gifts we receive long after the whispers of breath have passed us by.