After being inspired by 19th century memorial needlework, I asked Jessica Marquez of
Miniature Rhino to create a special needlepoint. I already have a couple of her
needlework constellations, which I adore.
And here's what she did! Don't you agree that the vintage-inspired stitching is absolutely gorgeous? Look at the detail of the flowers:
This piece is so sweet and versatile, with enough space for a special memento between the phrases
Remember me/When this you see. Jessica included some thread for sewing on small tokens. Here's the needlepoint with a lock of my grandmother's hair:
And finally, a sprig of lavender that my mother gave to me:
This sentimental needlepoint is handmade, and can be passed on between generations, giving us a lovely opportunity to remember those we love every time we see it. It also would make an awesome gift. Thanks Jessica!
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I honestly don't know how graveyards came to be perceived as places to dread. My neighbor recently buried his mother in a nearby cemetery, and in my opinion he summed it up perfectly when he said that cemeteries are places filled with love. Everybody there was cherished by their family, with hopes that their memory will live on.
These Memento Mori pieces by Lady Lavona capture that sense of magical remembrance. Each tintype is a portrait of a different person. Who were they? How were they remembered by the ones who loved them? And how does our looking at these portraits - remembering them even though we've never met them - bestow upon them a certain immortality? Are they thankful to be remembered?
And here it is with the 
