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by Anaïs Beaulieu
About the Project
Here’s my story. When I was eight years old, my grandmothertaught me to embroider. She herself had learnt it from her mother, who hadlearnt it from her mother... this is the family tradition.
There are other narratives about embroidery, apart from this family tradition.
Thread is used as a metaphor for speech, time, and story—symbolically tying together, so to speak, something deeply ingrained in us. Aren’t we all threads before we’re born, ready to become a story?
Embroidering is meditative. Each stitch with the needle conjures a thought...and then another... and another. The act of stitchery—a gestural to and fro—can create an experience that leads to other places... and back again. I’ve tried to capture some of this in my writing in this book.
Then again, embroidering is not so different from taking a stroll. It is an occasion to take our time and observe. I sometimes get a feeling that things are happening very quickly around me. Embroidery allows me to resist the pace that is imposed on me, and I am able to find my own rhythm.
My practice of embroidery is slightly different from those of my foremothers. It is more embedded in the confrontation between subject, technique and material. The idea of embroidering plastic bags struck me when I was on a bus in Burkina Faso.Through the window I saw, what appeared to be fields of black plastic, bags clinging on to arid vegetation to the point of almost replacing it. One way of taking revenge, it seemed to me, would be to embroider plants on to such plastic bags. Piercing them with a needle always involves a little bit of tension because the plastic can tear at any time. It’s a way to make it as vulnerable as the plant species that is embroidered on it.
Of course, it is a slow process. lt took around 900 hours, for instance, to realise the embroidered images in this book. And then the thought that it takes just half a second to throw something to the ground which will then take maybe 400 years to decompose—if at all it does. How much time does it take for a species to appear? And to disappear?
My ancestors used embroidery as ornamentation, but they would also use it to repair and restore. The needle has this power. It can recycle, literally ‘create a new cycle.’ The winter always gives spring another chance. Everything is here, fertile.
A Stitch Out of Time by Anaïs Beaulieu is published by Tara Books.
About the Project
Here’s my story. When I was eight years old, my grandmothertaught me to embroider. She herself had learnt it from her mother, who hadlearnt it from her mother... this is the family tradition.
There are other narratives about embroidery, apart from this family tradition.
Thread is used as a metaphor for speech, time, and story—symbolically tying together, so to speak, something deeply ingrained in us. Aren’t we all threads before we’re born, ready to become a story?
Embroidering is meditative. Each stitch with the needle conjures a thought...and then another... and another. The act of stitchery—a gestural to and fro—can create an experience that leads to other places... and back again. I’ve tried to capture some of this in my writing in this book.
Then again, embroidering is not so different from taking a stroll. It is an occasion to take our time and observe. I sometimes get a feeling that things are happening very quickly around me. Embroidery allows me to resist the pace that is imposed on me, and I am able to find my own rhythm.
My practice of embroidery is slightly different from those of my foremothers. It is more embedded in the confrontation between subject, technique and material. The idea of embroidering plastic bags struck me when I was on a bus in Burkina Faso.Through the window I saw, what appeared to be fields of black plastic, bags clinging on to arid vegetation to the point of almost replacing it. One way of taking revenge, it seemed to me, would be to embroider plants on to such plastic bags. Piercing them with a needle always involves a little bit of tension because the plastic can tear at any time. It’s a way to make it as vulnerable as the plant species that is embroidered on it.
Of course, it is a slow process. lt took around 900 hours, for instance, to realise the embroidered images in this book. And then the thought that it takes just half a second to throw something to the ground which will then take maybe 400 years to decompose—if at all it does. How much time does it take for a species to appear? And to disappear?
My ancestors used embroidery as ornamentation, but they would also use it to repair and restore. The needle has this power. It can recycle, literally ‘create a new cycle.’ The winter always gives spring another chance. Everything is here, fertile.
A Stitch Out of Time by Anaïs Beaulieu is published by Tara Books.
by Anaïs Beaulieu
About the Project
Here’s my story. When I was eight years old, my grandmothertaught me to embroider. She herself had learnt it from her mother, who hadlearnt it from her mother... this is the family tradition.
There are other narratives about embroidery, apart from this family tradition.
Thread is used as a metaphor for speech, time, and story—symbolically tying together, so to speak, something deeply ingrained in us. Aren’t we all threads before we’re born, ready to become a story?
Embroidering is meditative. Each stitch with the needle conjures a thought...and then another... and another. The act of stitchery—a gestural to and fro—can create an experience that leads to other places... and back again. I’ve tried to capture some of this in my writing in this book.
Then again, embroidering is not so different from taking a stroll. It is an occasion to take our time and observe. I sometimes get a feeling that things are happening very quickly around me. Embroidery allows me to resist the pace that is imposed on me, and I am able to find my own rhythm.
My practice of embroidery is slightly different from those of my foremothers. It is more embedded in the confrontation between subject, technique and material. The idea of embroidering plastic bags struck me when I was on a bus in Burkina Faso.Through the window I saw, what appeared to be fields of black plastic, bags clinging on to arid vegetation to the point of almost replacing it. One way of taking revenge, it seemed to me, would be to embroider plants on to such plastic bags. Piercing them with a needle always involves a little bit of tension because the plastic can tear at any time. It’s a way to make it as vulnerable as the plant species that is embroidered on it.
Of course, it is a slow process. lt took around 900 hours, for instance, to realise the embroidered images in this book. And then the thought that it takes just half a second to throw something to the ground which will then take maybe 400 years to decompose—if at all it does. How much time does it take for a species to appear? And to disappear?
My ancestors used embroidery as ornamentation, but they would also use it to repair and restore. The needle has this power. It can recycle, literally ‘create a new cycle.’ The winter always gives spring another chance. Everything is here, fertile.
A Stitch Out of Time by Anaïs Beaulieu is published by Tara Books.
About the Project
Here’s my story. When I was eight years old, my grandmothertaught me to embroider. She herself had learnt it from her mother, who hadlearnt it from her mother... this is the family tradition.
There are other narratives about embroidery, apart from this family tradition.
Thread is used as a metaphor for speech, time, and story—symbolically tying together, so to speak, something deeply ingrained in us. Aren’t we all threads before we’re born, ready to become a story?
Embroidering is meditative. Each stitch with the needle conjures a thought...and then another... and another. The act of stitchery—a gestural to and fro—can create an experience that leads to other places... and back again. I’ve tried to capture some of this in my writing in this book.
Then again, embroidering is not so different from taking a stroll. It is an occasion to take our time and observe. I sometimes get a feeling that things are happening very quickly around me. Embroidery allows me to resist the pace that is imposed on me, and I am able to find my own rhythm.
My practice of embroidery is slightly different from those of my foremothers. It is more embedded in the confrontation between subject, technique and material. The idea of embroidering plastic bags struck me when I was on a bus in Burkina Faso.Through the window I saw, what appeared to be fields of black plastic, bags clinging on to arid vegetation to the point of almost replacing it. One way of taking revenge, it seemed to me, would be to embroider plants on to such plastic bags. Piercing them with a needle always involves a little bit of tension because the plastic can tear at any time. It’s a way to make it as vulnerable as the plant species that is embroidered on it.
Of course, it is a slow process. lt took around 900 hours, for instance, to realise the embroidered images in this book. And then the thought that it takes just half a second to throw something to the ground which will then take maybe 400 years to decompose—if at all it does. How much time does it take for a species to appear? And to disappear?
My ancestors used embroidery as ornamentation, but they would also use it to repair and restore. The needle has this power. It can recycle, literally ‘create a new cycle.’ The winter always gives spring another chance. Everything is here, fertile.
A Stitch Out of Time by Anaïs Beaulieu is published by Tara Books.
by Anaïs Beaulieu
About the Project
Here’s my story. When I was eight years old, my grandmothertaught me to embroider. She herself had learnt it from her mother, who hadlearnt it from her mother... this is the family tradition.
There are other narratives about embroidery, apart from this family tradition.
Thread is used as a metaphor for speech, time, and story—symbolically tying together, so to speak, something deeply ingrained in us. Aren’t we all threads before we’re born, ready to become a story?
Embroidering is meditative. Each stitch with the needle conjures a thought...and then another... and another. The act of stitchery—a gestural to and fro—can create an experience that leads to other places... and back again. I’ve tried to capture some of this in my writing in this book.
Then again, embroidering is not so different from taking a stroll. It is an occasion to take our time and observe. I sometimes get a feeling that things are happening very quickly around me. Embroidery allows me to resist the pace that is imposed on me, and I am able to find my own rhythm.
My practice of embroidery is slightly different from those of my foremothers. It is more embedded in the confrontation between subject, technique and material. The idea of embroidering plastic bags struck me when I was on a bus in Burkina Faso.Through the window I saw, what appeared to be fields of black plastic, bags clinging on to arid vegetation to the point of almost replacing it. One way of taking revenge, it seemed to me, would be to embroider plants on to such plastic bags. Piercing them with a needle always involves a little bit of tension because the plastic can tear at any time. It’s a way to make it as vulnerable as the plant species that is embroidered on it.
Of course, it is a slow process. lt took around 900 hours, for instance, to realise the embroidered images in this book. And then the thought that it takes just half a second to throw something to the ground which will then take maybe 400 years to decompose—if at all it does. How much time does it take for a species to appear? And to disappear?
My ancestors used embroidery as ornamentation, but they would also use it to repair and restore. The needle has this power. It can recycle, literally ‘create a new cycle.’ The winter always gives spring another chance. Everything is here, fertile.
A Stitch Out of Time by Anaïs Beaulieu is published by Tara Books.
About the Project
Here’s my story. When I was eight years old, my grandmothertaught me to embroider. She herself had learnt it from her mother, who hadlearnt it from her mother... this is the family tradition.
There are other narratives about embroidery, apart from this family tradition.
Thread is used as a metaphor for speech, time, and story—symbolically tying together, so to speak, something deeply ingrained in us. Aren’t we all threads before we’re born, ready to become a story?
Embroidering is meditative. Each stitch with the needle conjures a thought...and then another... and another. The act of stitchery—a gestural to and fro—can create an experience that leads to other places... and back again. I’ve tried to capture some of this in my writing in this book.
Then again, embroidering is not so different from taking a stroll. It is an occasion to take our time and observe. I sometimes get a feeling that things are happening very quickly around me. Embroidery allows me to resist the pace that is imposed on me, and I am able to find my own rhythm.
My practice of embroidery is slightly different from those of my foremothers. It is more embedded in the confrontation between subject, technique and material. The idea of embroidering plastic bags struck me when I was on a bus in Burkina Faso.Through the window I saw, what appeared to be fields of black plastic, bags clinging on to arid vegetation to the point of almost replacing it. One way of taking revenge, it seemed to me, would be to embroider plants on to such plastic bags. Piercing them with a needle always involves a little bit of tension because the plastic can tear at any time. It’s a way to make it as vulnerable as the plant species that is embroidered on it.
Of course, it is a slow process. lt took around 900 hours, for instance, to realise the embroidered images in this book. And then the thought that it takes just half a second to throw something to the ground which will then take maybe 400 years to decompose—if at all it does. How much time does it take for a species to appear? And to disappear?
My ancestors used embroidery as ornamentation, but they would also use it to repair and restore. The needle has this power. It can recycle, literally ‘create a new cycle.’ The winter always gives spring another chance. Everything is here, fertile.
A Stitch Out of Time by Anaïs Beaulieu is published by Tara Books.
by Anaïs Beaulieu
About the Project
Here’s my story. When I was eight years old, my grandmothertaught me to embroider. She herself had learnt it from her mother, who hadlearnt it from her mother... this is the family tradition.
There are other narratives about embroidery, apart from this family tradition.
Thread is used as a metaphor for speech, time, and story—symbolically tying together, so to speak, something deeply ingrained in us. Aren’t we all threads before we’re born, ready to become a story?
Embroidering is meditative. Each stitch with the needle conjures a thought...and then another... and another. The act of stitchery—a gestural to and fro—can create an experience that leads to other places... and back again. I’ve tried to capture some of this in my writing in this book.
Then again, embroidering is not so different from taking a stroll. It is an occasion to take our time and observe. I sometimes get a feeling that things are happening very quickly around me. Embroidery allows me to resist the pace that is imposed on me, and I am able to find my own rhythm.
My practice of embroidery is slightly different from those of my foremothers. It is more embedded in the confrontation between subject, technique and material. The idea of embroidering plastic bags struck me when I was on a bus in Burkina Faso.Through the window I saw, what appeared to be fields of black plastic, bags clinging on to arid vegetation to the point of almost replacing it. One way of taking revenge, it seemed to me, would be to embroider plants on to such plastic bags. Piercing them with a needle always involves a little bit of tension because the plastic can tear at any time. It’s a way to make it as vulnerable as the plant species that is embroidered on it.
Of course, it is a slow process. lt took around 900 hours, for instance, to realise the embroidered images in this book. And then the thought that it takes just half a second to throw something to the ground which will then take maybe 400 years to decompose—if at all it does. How much time does it take for a species to appear? And to disappear?
My ancestors used embroidery as ornamentation, but they would also use it to repair and restore. The needle has this power. It can recycle, literally ‘create a new cycle.’ The winter always gives spring another chance. Everything is here, fertile.
A Stitch Out of Time by Anaïs Beaulieu is published by Tara Books.
About the Project
Here’s my story. When I was eight years old, my grandmothertaught me to embroider. She herself had learnt it from her mother, who hadlearnt it from her mother... this is the family tradition.
There are other narratives about embroidery, apart from this family tradition.
Thread is used as a metaphor for speech, time, and story—symbolically tying together, so to speak, something deeply ingrained in us. Aren’t we all threads before we’re born, ready to become a story?
Embroidering is meditative. Each stitch with the needle conjures a thought...and then another... and another. The act of stitchery—a gestural to and fro—can create an experience that leads to other places... and back again. I’ve tried to capture some of this in my writing in this book.
Then again, embroidering is not so different from taking a stroll. It is an occasion to take our time and observe. I sometimes get a feeling that things are happening very quickly around me. Embroidery allows me to resist the pace that is imposed on me, and I am able to find my own rhythm.
My practice of embroidery is slightly different from those of my foremothers. It is more embedded in the confrontation between subject, technique and material. The idea of embroidering plastic bags struck me when I was on a bus in Burkina Faso.Through the window I saw, what appeared to be fields of black plastic, bags clinging on to arid vegetation to the point of almost replacing it. One way of taking revenge, it seemed to me, would be to embroider plants on to such plastic bags. Piercing them with a needle always involves a little bit of tension because the plastic can tear at any time. It’s a way to make it as vulnerable as the plant species that is embroidered on it.
Of course, it is a slow process. lt took around 900 hours, for instance, to realise the embroidered images in this book. And then the thought that it takes just half a second to throw something to the ground which will then take maybe 400 years to decompose—if at all it does. How much time does it take for a species to appear? And to disappear?
My ancestors used embroidery as ornamentation, but they would also use it to repair and restore. The needle has this power. It can recycle, literally ‘create a new cycle.’ The winter always gives spring another chance. Everything is here, fertile.
A Stitch Out of Time by Anaïs Beaulieu is published by Tara Books.