Last time we talked about arty things, I mentioned that I had finally picked up supplies to try needle punching. It’s something I have been wanting to explore for a while for mostly obvious reasons; it’s a form of fiber art closely related to embroidery and I am a big fan of texture – in the past, I’ve used different embroidery stitches to approximate the nubby texture of needle punching. I thought needle punching would allow me to extend my exploration of colour and form in a new medium with – and here I am going to reveal my hubris – minimal downtime. Because of the whole similarity thing? Yeah, I was wrong.
Although both involve needles, the techniques are very different. Different enough, I think, that my skill at embroidery is probably to the detriment of my ability to figure out needle punching. I gave it a good, honest try and it was hard. But more than that … I hated it.
Ok, hate might be a strong word. I just didn’t enjoy the experience. At all.
At first, I thought it was because it was a new skill that was proving more difficult to learn than I had expected. It’s been a while since I’ve tried a new craft and felt totally useless at something; nobody likes that feeling, right? I had no desire to keep going, and that made me mad at myself. I’m not a quitter! What does it say about me, especially at my age, that I am immediately ready to walk away from something just because it’s hard? After all, I have learned over the years that being really good at something – anything! – takes patience and practice.
I spent a few days really beating myself up over this. It might sound silly but it really bothered me that I couldn’t motivate myself enough to continue, to persevere, to get better. I felt bad … but not enough to actually want to do it. What a dilemma, huh? And then, coincidentally, I read something online that helped me shift my perspective. I am going to try to paraphrase it here, as I don’t remember it exactly, but it was something to the effect that while nobody is born a master of a craft – that still takes time and practice – people are inherently more inclined or suited to particular things. In my case, that would be embroidery and beading and painting, but not knitting or weaving or (evidently) needle punching.
It’s not so much that the former “came easy” to me; not in the sense people might think – I wasn’t immediately good at these things (certainly not any better than I was at needle punch right out of the gate). But I enjoyed the learning process. Instead of feeling frustrated about how my first efforts fell short of my goals, I felt energized to keep trying. I was excited to keep going, to experiment, to learn more. It didn’t feel like a chore. It felt fun.
This has been a total lightbulb moment for me. It allowed me to give myself permission to “give up” on needle punching. At least for now. I might try again at some point, but I won’t force myself to do it if it still feels like a joyless struggle. I would rather put time into my embroidery, and continue to improvise and improve my techniques, than into anything that feels like a chore. Art should never feel like that.
I will admit that this has been a challenging mental framework to shift – to stop equating putting something aside with quitting (and all its negative connotations) – but also a really healthy process. In a strange way, a growth-oriented process at that; although I have not grown my skill base, I have gained a new perspective which I believe will help me to grow in other ways over the years.
For fun, here is a look at the results of my needle punching attempts – front and back:
Not horrendous but these brought me no joy to make so it’s time focus on something that does!
