Somebody was foolish enough to commission an embroidery from me. What a chump!
The thing with these embroidered portraits is that I seem to always start them while at the laundromat. It’s kind of a social lubricant. In a sea of endless side-eyes and little boys shamelessly flirting1, there are always a few curious people asking me what I’m doing and why, and they’re always very encouraging and impressed. “My grandma does that,” they’d say, adding that their “Great Aunt Thelma-Jean was working on one with kittens in a basket over Christmas”2. Even today, a still-kind-of-new to me would-be friend type3 asked me about the “needle stuff” I was doing.
So there you have it: I’m as edgy as your elderly relatives. I’m available for all your family gatherings, get in touch for details. Getting all the grown men absolutely nowhere near me since 2010. Living the dream.
But you probably didn’t need to know this. This gets out and I’m going to hunt you down, tie you up and leave you upside-down while I poke your eyeballs out with a dirty needle, while a fancy contraption tickles your feet with chicken feathers until you choke on your own rusty tears.
Where was I? Right. One morning last month, Johnny decided he wanted to commission a piece of mine4 and would I please make one of his lady friend? To which I agreed because he is cunning, wily, devious, sly and crafty, and caught me BEFORE COFFEE so there was no way I’d manage a coherent, comprehensible negative response anyway. A grunt is a grunt is a yes, right?
Sketch to hoop was about a week (laundromat sitting time start thing, remember?) and finished in a couple of days. Johnny seemed to be pretty happy with it. Here’s where she lives now in his office. I think that’s good company, no?