When I was a child, I would read fairy tales late into the night by the light on the landing outside my bedroom (unless I was caught that is…). I despised the insipid heroines waiting patiently for rescue instead identifying with those who used their skills to rescue their brothers or cursed princes by weaving nettles into shirts or outwitting evil captors. No reliance on a man for me.
On this basis, surely stitching in tree bark will lead me to fame or fortune?
Jen Cable Art 