"The London Pillow": A Journey Close To Home
There is something truly magical about the euphoria that comes with completing a major needlepoint project. Today, after 2 years of work and over 36,000 stitches, “The London Pillow,” as it has been aptly coined in my household, is finally complete.
I first acquired this canvas in October of 2022 on a chilly Saturday morning during my junior year of college. At the time, I was in the midst of a typical early-twenties-girl meltdown (the reason for which I could not tell you) and had escaped my tiny college town through the winding mountain-side highways of rural Virginia to find myself in Charlottesville. My only goals here were to hit the Trader Joe’s and find a new project at the needlepoint store. Clearly I was in need of some serious retail therapy and TJ’s gyoza from the freezer section.
Immediately upon stepping into the needlepoint store - somewhat exasperated by the throes of young-adult life and questioning whether I was just a total nerd for feeling at home in a store run by women four times my age (still question this part sometimes, lol) - I saw it. There, sat front and center within the accordion displays of canvases strewn about the shop was The London Pillow. Within 20 minutes I had made my purchase and was out of the store, canvas and threads in hand, ready to head back to campus and hibernate in my apartment with my new project. Still, at this point, it was just another canvas; another to add to the pile of endless canvases and miscellaneous art supplies stashed under my bed as fun pastimes.
Soon, however, this piece would begin its journey with me throughout the rest of my days at school and into the next chapter back in Texas. Once I picked it up and completed the first stitch, it was like it was glued to me - both in the good moments and bad. Quickly, my spot on the corner of my roommates’ and I’s couch was solidified and I found myself stitching along to the joyful conversations of a full house filled with celebrations of good grades, typical daily routines, and of course all the latest gossip (except for Bachelor Mondays - these nights we were silent. Locked in). The pillow, for better or worse, also gained its spot on the bluer days, through heartbreak, illness, and even just a little bit of homesickness - even as an upperclassman.
Upon graduation and the start of first jobs - at a time where I found myself back halfway across the country from those who had shaped the past four years of my existence - I found great comfort in the familiarity of stitching. Pretty quickly though, I was able to hit my stride and found a new corner of the couch where my work could continue - surrounded by those joyful voices and sounds of home I had found once before.
I know how silly it sounds to hold a needlepoint canvas (especially one that is objectively a bit kitsch and simple in its design) in such high regard and as having such an impact on my life. But, over time it has served a diary of sorts - the memories and moments that surrounded its creation being woven in alongside each thread. With its completion, a chapter of that diary has closed, leaving room for a new beginning. Room for a new project full of milestones cemented in its fibers as reminders of the importance of change, the lasting impact of experience and memory, and even the possibilities that come from embracing the occasional meltdown.
I cannot wait to find my next project - one that will carry me into the next chapter of my life and be filled with the vital fibers of my own transformation and creation. Even more so, however, I am eager to proudly display “The London Pillow” in my own home as a reminder of the memories and love that have gotten me this far.
Xx, Kels