Deeply Rooted: A Reflection of The Thorn Women Before Me Needlepointing Through A Time of War
Thinking about the Thorn women before me today. How they endured fear, Prohibition, World Wars, children going off to Woodstock or war and much, much more.
I think about my great-grandmother today.
How she and my grandfather, Harry, found love after WWI and how she would needlepoint while he would watercolor or write. How she grew up without women having the right to vote.
I think about Patty, my grandmother who I never got to meet, but show a strong resemblance.
The woman who fell in love with my grandfather, Bill, after WWII and how they loved to sail and loved all things on the water. I love hearing stories about her travels, her imaginative stories of a hypothetical pet chimpanzee and her dates with Bobby Kennedy when she was young. She even survived a couple plane crashes and therefore, couldn’t get on later flights without a Bloody Mary or two.
The first image is of Patty, my mother’s mother. It was taken by my grandfather, Grampy, on their boat. A love for photography in our family runs deep, too. She was always draped in beautiful scarves and simple, classic New England style. Practical with a touch of oversized cat eye. She embraced her wrinkles and wore them as telltale signs of her loves of the sun and the sea. Traits that she passed down to my mother and my mother passed down to me. (With the addition of a bit more non-toxic moisturizer, SPF and sun protection.)
What would they have to say about this time that we are in? How would they reflect in their own experiences of how the world has felt upside down in their own times. What would Patty have to say about Tiger King and Outlander?
The second image is little me with my great-grandmother, of whom we affectionately called “Grammy Dear,” at AYC in Rye, NY. I love seeing that she wrapped me in tartan, a fitting touch of our bit of Scottish heritage from her family. Grammy lived to be over one hundred and met every single one of her seven great-grandchildren. We believe needlepoint was her secret, that and perhaps a good ol’ sherry and pastry. She walked several miles every single day and read the NYT cover to cover until she was 97.
Someone has since pointed out that I am intently studying the fabric of her blouse!
Her name was Martha Alexandra Thorn and she absolutely loved her needlepoint. In fact, she taught my mother how to stitch when @triciaheatondesigns was just six. This skill came in handy when my mom was in middle school as she could no longer see her projects and needed a little help.
Her favorite color was a gray-blue, a fact I just learned a few weeks ago! She loved photography and shot every family photo with her Leica. We are so lucky to have these photographs, reminding us of the importance to take our own.
I think about how they passed on needlepoint and laid the groundwork for needlepoint to create a meaningful bond in my family today. How it is a treasured hobby of my cousins, my aunts and new family members that we’ve picked up along the way. How after a couple years of trying to convince my little sister how to stitch, she is now painting her own designs. I love how my mom has created her own needlepoint niche in the business, creating a platform for talented artists to find their footing in the needlepoint world.
My mother stitching at The Cottage in Michigan. Looking out at the same view Mame stitched to for decades on The Lake
I love thinking about how my father’s mother, Mame, used to needlepoint prolifically on Lake Michigan at the cottage. Perhaps while having her Manhattan on the back deck, overlooking the water. At 5 o’clock sharp, of course! Stitching pillows that we still get to enjoy today, while watching Jeopardy, surrounded by kids, grandkids and great-grandkids playing cards. This love for needlepoint certainly came in handy when my father married my needlepointing mom ten years ago. He has been my biggest cheerleader and I thank Mame every time I take over the dining room with needlepoint kits, for raising him around needlepoint.
We have lost some soldiers along the way, but we are so damn lucky to have these heirloom treasures they have left behind.
The last few weeks have made me think about history. I said this recently on instagram, but as an art history major and maker myself, I cannot help but look back on the intertwined history of human and creation. History has taught us that from the Renaissance to Impressionism to modernism and beyond, the most beautiful works of art have been born out of the darkest of times. Whether it be Frida’s infamous bus accident to World Wars to global phenomenon, humans have been utilizing art as a vehicle to cope, to use their voice or simply charm the viewer for an escape.
It brings me great joy and to tears when I hear of how needlepoint has been incorporated in the lives for folks today. Nurses stitching in peace when they come home from countless hours fighting on the front lines. Women hiding in their bathrooms, stitching as a means to find relief in a storm of homeschooling. How new stitchers are popping up all over, finding an outlet to cope, release stress and have something to do to keep busy and stay off the news.
Patty, Martha and Mary Alice would be overjoyed that stitchers are still stitching and would be delighted to know that despite the darkness we feel in today’s world, that needlepoint is in fact, alive and well— bringing many of us together in an air of comfort in the rough seas ahead.
We are now at war once again, but an invisible war. The kind that strikes hundreds of thousands, if not millions of those we love. A common enemy with no visible indication of its whereabouts.
However, collectively, we are staying apart, in effort to come together as a more durable fabric of humanity and inhabiters of this Earth in the future. To which end, we have yet to discover, but an end indeed and it is just beyond the horizon.
I have tremendous hope for the world and if anything, may we enjoy creating or may we turn to other makers to entertain us. We can only be stronger if we work together, if we comfort each other, if we create together.