How Punch Hooking Changed My Life
It all started with a small wooden needle. I was amazed. I spent weeks in anticipation for the Christmas gift that I knew I was receiving. C’mon, surprises are overrated. Within days I had unwrapped the punch needle , started and finished my first piece and bragged about it to just about everyone I knew. I had officially done it. I was becoming the fiber artist that I had built up in my head for the past weeks. Of course this first piece I speak of was a terrible, poorly drawn 10” X 10” depiction of a monkey. It was undeniably horrifying to look at, in fact so much that Matt and I decided it was best to flip it over so that we didn’t feel like it was watching us. We also named it Charles. Charles’ fate quickly came to an end when I pulled out all of his stitches to turn him into a quirky cat wearing sunglasses which coincidentally was one of my first pieces to sell on my Etsy shop several weeks later. RIP Charles the monkey, you are forever in my heart and my nightmares.
“Punch Hooking reopened my creative eye and I haven’t blinked since.”
From there it was all a breeze. I was happy and joyful and making art again and everything was right with the world. Ha ha I’m absolutely joking. There were tears, needle pokes, a panic attack that led me to step down from my big girl job at work, splinters, stitches punched and so many more stitches ripped back out. It was a roller coaster of emotions, a whirlwind of yarn, a tornado of confusion and through it all I completely stunned myself with numerous pieces of beautiful, bright and surprisingly cheery art. Was I pouring all of my positivity into my art? Was making art again bleeding me dry? Needless to say, this wasn’t necessarily the set up for the perfect time. My expectations of myself and my art were out of control and even though I stepped down from my management position, my heart still wasn’t all the way in my job. It was the perfect storm. Then I would come home and absorb myself into my art. I mean completely lose myself in every stitch and every line of every under drawing and my worries were left trapped under each piece. Once I was able to come to terms with my new found medicine things started to become a lot smoother. I learned to focus on my art. That sounds so obvious and stupid writing out but I mean really focusing on the process. Focusing on my inspirations and surrounding myself with them. Everything changed.