This isn't remarkable, not really. Most seasoned embroiderers can stitch a French knot. Hell, most beginner embroiderers can do a French knot. I, however, have never been able to do them. I've been embroidering for almost 15 years, and it's one of those stitches that I could never grasp. I tried different techniques, but my practice knots were a big old mess. So I avoided French knots when I would create a piece. I learned ways to fake it, and my embroidery didn't suffer because I couldn't make a knot. Most people I make things for don't know what a French knot is, so it's fine. I can make a really beautiful piece with a back stitch, split stitch, and some cross stitches.
Then I had an idea. Back in February, I asked my friend Kelly if she'd like to try an art experiment. I wanted to see what my embroidery would like over a painting. I don't paint, but Kelly is a gifted painter. I thought it would be fun to collaborate on something, and see if this would work. Embroidering on paper is one of my favorite things, but I had only done small scale work before (cards, little experiments in my sketchbook). Kelly agreed to try it out, and I gave her free reign over the subject and no timeline. Whenever she got to it would be fine. I was in no hurry to do anything.
Well, of course, the universe has a way of making things happen. As we both stayed at home like good citizens, we had more time to devote to creative projects. By the end of April, I had four paintings in my house, waiting for me to embroider. Two landscapes and two florals. The second I opened the package I knew one thing: I would have to learn how to stitch a French knot. The flowers demanded French knots. And I didn't want to disappoint them.
I taught myself how to embroider in 2006. I had finally come back to New Orleans after evacuating from Hurricane Katrina. I wrote about my post-K experiences in New Orleans at the start of the pandemic; there are a lot of parallels between the two experiences. It's not the same, but it's not not the same. One of the reasons I picked up embroidery was that I needed something to do in the evenings, in the quiet. Things weren't open, especially not when I first came back right after Thanksgiving. Most of my friends weren't back or weren't coming back, so I spent a lot of time alone. Work was weird (this is an understatement) and often mentally exhausting. Curfews were in place and the National Guard was still in town to help maintain order/peace/whatever. It was and wasn't New Orleans. Teaching myself to embroider gave me something to do that didn't require anyone else to be around, and I had everything I needed to make stuff, so I didn't have to go out.
Keep in mind this was 2006, so while the internet was a big part of all of our lives, it wasn't what it is today. There weren't hundreds of YouTube channels devoted to embroidery. Sublime Stitching, the design studio where I bought my first kit, was one of the few companies around. The first kit included transfer patterns (I still have many of them), a hoop (still use it), a stitching guide, and some fabric to get started. Most of the basic stitches, back stitch, split stitch, stem stitch, were relatively easy to pick up. If you can do those three, you can embroider. I would eventually add chain stitch, satin stitch, and various techniques for the leaf stitch to my stitch repertoire. Some of my stuff was good, some of it was a hot mess. I embroidered postcards, place mats, pillowcases, bar towels, cloth napkins. I made gifts for people (I doubt they use any of it) and I made things for myself (I used everything until it fell apart). Embroidery kept me grounded in a time when nothing worked the way it was supposed to and everything was sad all the time.
Since then, I've embroidered when I had time or the mood struck me. A few years ago, I started Wine & Crafts Day with some friends, and I used that time to embroider when I wasn't working on glitter purses. But I didn't challenge myself. It was all stuff I could do without thinking much - just pick the thread colors and stitch away. There's nothing wrong with that, but it's not particularly fulfilling as a hobby or as art.
When stay at home orders began, I was working on my first commissioned piece. The wife of one of my co-workers saw the Tiger Stadium piece I made for my brother and asked me to make one for her. Once I finished that piece at the end of March, I needed to keep going. Once again, embroidery was filling the time I would normally have been out doing other things or commuting. The Tiger Stadium piece is my own design, so I decided to do more of my own patterns. I did one for Mardi Gras. I started designing embroidered postcards. And then there were the paintings. I needed to work on the paintings.
Which brings me back to the French knot. My embroidery library has grown quite a bit since 2006. I decided to try one of my newer books, Edgy Embroidery, first before trying a YouTube video. I don't know if it was the visual guides in the book or author Renee Rominger's "you can do it" style of writing, but for whatever reason, the stitch finally clicked for me. I stitched a French knot.
I can't even begin to tell you how incredibly satisfying it was to make these first three French knots. Fourteen years! Maybe I needed the muscle memory of 14 years worth of other stitches to finally make this happen. I don't know. I have no idea how the brain actually works. Thankfully, my brain decided to fully embrace the French knot. Not only can I stitch knots on fabric, but I figured out how to do them on paper. Carefully.
Armed with my new stitch knowledge, I designed the stitch patterns for the two floral painting, including lots of French knots. I needed to make up for 14 lost years with no French knots. Making French knots is soothing. I know most embroiderers hate them, but do them anyway since they add texture and dimension to a piece. But I really love them. I feel about French knots the way some people feel about yoga - relaxed and quiet. French knots quiet my brain.
Since finishing the paintings, I've started incorporating French knots in other projects too. I did a few kits recently, and was excited to see French knots included.
I'm working on my first embroidered portrait and it has French knots. I took a little artistic license and made the knots a little smaller than the pattern indicated. I'm mildly obsessed with the result:
I have a bunch of projects to work on once I finish the portrait, and one of them is a project made entirely of French knots. I made my own pattern, and plan to use shades of orange and pink to fill in the design. If I like it, I plan to make this pattern into a series with some additional touches. If I don't like it, well, I'm going to like it. It's French knots in orange and pink. I didn't know I needed French knots in orange and pink until I was sitting at home for the 40th or 50th day in a row and finally figured out how to stitch a French knot.
Thank you Jenny Hart (of Sublime Stitching) for teaching me to embroider 14 years ago (not in person, but you know what I mean) and thank you Renee Rominger for teaching me how to make a French knot. And thank you Kelly for agreeing to try this whole painting/embroidery experiment that "forced" me to learn the French knot. I look forward to our next collaborative piece, whatever that may be.
Who knew tiny stitches would help me find some level of control in an otherwise chaotic universe?
Stay safe. Wear your mask. Wash your hands. Be nice to one another. Vote. Black Lives Matter.
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