I have been stitching stars while we are home for isolation. They are an easy formula for me — I have a mental map of the star in my head, and I can chose a variable or two, but they don’t take a surge of mental energy to begin. I can gather a few squares, chose a color or two, and then begin, usually without a plan for the full color arrangement. I check in about half way to see what it needs, or there is a nagging thought while I work, and usually it takes a day for me to accept this idea — rainbows, black and white tiling… I reject and tell the star “That is too hard. Please don’t make me do that.” But soon it feels necessary and I release myself to the time it will take to stitch.

For the last month I have been only able to stitch stars because they are my comfort. Some nights, after the kids are asleep, I sit in my stitching chair and I just hold my star-in-progress, and I can’t seem to focus enough to actually stitch anything. I usually end up twitching and touching my phone and losing my scissors endlessly. Some days I drag my brain through reading lessons with the kids while I try to stitch a starpoint without them noticing (not likely). I have lost some stars on my desk or in my paper piles (I usually lose them in my purse, but that isn’t happening these days), so this isn’t the full collection. I’ll find them as I look for other things that I have lost, and maybe then I will hang them on my wall so I can look at them and feel their steadiness.