Re-purposing items instead of buying new ones occupies my thoughts lately. This was heightened with the arrival of our twinkies. The amount of baby stuff we buy and then discard after a month or two is staggering. Fortunately, there is Goodwill. While I was there recently I came across some unopened Sunset Stitchery stitch kits. These are like the needlepoint version of a coloring book if the coloring book also provided all the markers as well as detailed instructions on how to color the pictures. Of course I had to buy the kits. But I was at a loss as to what to do with them so I set them aside both mentally and physically.
Simultaneously I’ve been keeping an extra special little diary dedicated to the will of the autocorrect typo. It entertains me how autocorrect asserts itself into our lives, sometimes altering real words to other real words, but always changing the meaning of a conversation while maintaining some of the original structure. I admire its sense of humor.
So I was staring at my Sunset Stitchery kits and thinking about purpose/re-purpose, while words and phrases percolated on the back burner. I like the look of the printed Aida cloth that comes in the kit, the ready to go nature of the image. The images are sweet; saccharine sometimes, nostalgic often. The stitch kit destiny is to stitch over this image, replicate it the same but different. The stitcher follows the original structure but inserts variation. And then boom, I don’t know how, thoughts connected and I realized that this is like autocorrect. Autocorrect takes the destiny of a sentence and repeats it back to you, but different. If your composed sentence is the printed Aida cloth, then autocorrect is the stitcher changing the image which means… I AM AUTOCORRECT.
