The other night I sat up sewing masks. This is something I’ve been doing since the start of the pandemic—my grandma taught me to sew at 10, and I finally flew my machine from Texas to New York. At first it was an adventure in relearning; now it’s mechanical. I can bang out a dozen masks or more in a day and have started branching out by request, experimenting with lace overlays, fringe, trim. I embroidered a crab on one for a Cancer friend. I had never embroidered anything in my life, but it turned out crablike, more or less. In the background fireworks went off, as they have every night for close to a month. I don’t know if I believe the conspiracy theories about them: that they’re an NYPD revenge tactic, a psy-ops intended to destabilize. I do know that at this point I barely hear them; they’ve become the white noise of summer nights. It’s amazing what we can adapt to.
Just to stay alive
Just to stay alive
Just to stay alive
The other night I sat up sewing masks. This is something I’ve been doing since the start of the pandemic—my grandma taught me to sew at 10, and I finally flew my machine from Texas to New York. At first it was an adventure in relearning; now it’s mechanical. I can bang out a dozen masks or more in a day and have started branching out by request, experimenting with lace overlays, fringe, trim. I embroidered a crab on one for a Cancer friend. I had never embroidered anything in my life, but it turned out crablike, more or less. In the background fireworks went off, as they have every night for close to a month. I don’t know if I believe the conspiracy theories about them: that they’re an NYPD revenge tactic, a psy-ops intended to destabilize. I do know that at this point I barely hear them; they’ve become the white noise of summer nights. It’s amazing what we can adapt to.