Sashiko Stitching
Sashiko is a Japanese hand-sewing technique to create geometric patterns. I learned that the name translates to mean “little stabs”. I started my first Sashiko kit after my reconstruction surgery and it was a lonelier time for me. I felt like I was on my own sooner and given I was a “survivor” at that point in time I did not feel like I had the same outpouring of support as I did during my mastectomy. I am positive a lot of this was by my own doing, reassuring everyone that I was stronger than I was.
Sashiko is a Japanese hand-sewing technique to create geometric patterns. I learned that the name translates to mean “little stabs”. I started my first Sashiko kit after my reconstruction surgery and it was a lonelier time for me. I felt like I was on my own sooner and given I was a “survivor” at that point in time I did not feel like I had the same outpouring of support as I did during my mastectomy. I am positive a lot of this was by my own doing, reassuring everyone that I was stronger than I was.
At the time, I thought that maybe a craft would uplift me. I wanted something I could do in my lap without too much arm movement given that I was back to my physical restrictions and pillow prison.
Each stitch that was not even and each stitched line that was not perfectly straight, seemed like tiny little stabs to my ego.
All of it was weighing heavy on me and I didn’t feel like crafting was bringing me the same peace or escape from my dark thoughts. I kept stitching, but eventually, I decided to stop. I had to put it away.
It’s okay to step back, rest, recover, and put things away. I feel like through a lot of this journey I have felt this inherent urge to keep pushing myself to stay positive and to continue fighting to find the light in this darkness.
However, I think sometimes I push myself so much that I forget to actually stop and sit in the darkness so that I am clear enough to find the light.
Just like I was accepting that I had to sit with all my feelings, I also accepted that I had to put the embroidery in the closet until I was clear enough to make my way back to it.
If you’d like to try your hand at your own Sashiko pattern, check out my local craft store Fancy Tiger Crafts and order one of their packages.
Bennet Bandana
When I was in high school, I learned how to knit and I would knit through my freshman year of college. I remember always loving going to the yarn store to see all the colors and touching all the different skeins. Despite my fascination, I never moved past the basics of knitting a long rectangular scarf. Prior to my mastectomy, I went to a beautiful shop here in town known for their kits and beautiful curation of supplies. The owner helped me pick out a few kits she thought would be good to do while I was recovering. I spotted the Bennet Bandana and thought, I know how to knit, how hard could it be?
When I was in high school, I learned how to knit and I would knit through my freshman year of college. I remember always loving going to the yarn store to see all the colors and touching all the different skeins. Despite my fascination, I never moved past the basics of knitting a long rectangular scarf. Prior to my mastectomy, I went to a beautiful shop here in town known for their kits and beautiful curation of supplies. The owner helped me pick out a few kits she thought would be good to do while I was recovering. I spotted the Bennet Bandana and thought, I know how to knit, how hard could it be?
Little did I know that the picot lace edge and making a triangle shape would prove harder than I thought. The first day I got the kit out, I spent all day starting, unraveling, and starting again trying to understand how it would look and wanting to make it look good. Remember, when I said I was a recovering perfectionist?
My goal was to make this bandana for my sister’s birthday, she was my main caregiver after my mastectomy. She stayed with me for weeks after my surgery to help me — flushing my drains, taking me to my follow-ups, cooking delicious meals, making sure I was keeping my arms down, and tucking me into what we would endearingly term my “pillow prison”. Anyone else find that being forced to sleep on your back was one of the worst parts?
I had a month until her birthday and after having nothing to show for after the first six hour day of trying, I was starting to worry I wouldn’t have anything and might need to pivot my birthday gift idea. However, through perseverance I was able to not only make one practice bandana that my pup Pica was willing to model for me, but I also made another bandana that I gave to my sister.
There is a wonderful quote by Canadian architect, Raymond Moriyama:
“There is magic in imperfection.”
I was willing to let go of the need to knit the perfect bandana and find the magic and beauty in the imperfection. Similar to my life story right now, I am finding magic in my imperfect journey. I think that is what keeps drawing me back to crafting — it is a meditative and gentle reminder to let go, be present, and find beauty in the process.
Want to make your own Bennet Bandana? Flax & Twine’s kit has everything you need from yarn to needles to the most wonderful scissors. I chose the color Rust, but I will say Spruce was a close second.
Wood + Paint + Embroidery
After my mastectomy, many of the crafts in my collection seemed daunting. As a recovering perfectionist, I worried about starting many of them because I didn’t want to mess them up in my drug induced fog and weak mobility. One of my friends, who is an artist and crafter herself, brought over dinner one evening and a low-stakes project that my sister and I could do together.
After my mastectomy, many of the crafts in my collection seemed daunting. As a recovering perfectionist, I worried about starting many of them because I didn’t want to mess them up in my drug induced fog and weak mobility. One of my friends, who is an artist and crafter herself, brought over dinner one evening and a low-stakes project that my sister and I could do together.
I loved that my friend included my sister, my caregiver through much of this journey. I loved that she gave her the same opportunity to take a breath through artmaking. I feel like through so much of our journeys, our caregivers are the unsung heroes. They work tirelessly to make sure we are comfortable, are fed, and deal with our rollercoaster of emotions with a smile.
My sister and I took a break from the wonderful reality TV we were soaking in, sat at the kitchen table, and painted. It felt so simple, so easy, but a little over a year later, I can put myself back at the kitchen table and feel that warmth and joy. It was a time where we were just enjoying each other’s company and creating art together. It felt not only like a break from the TV but a break from the heaviness of it all.
At the end of the project, I loved that we were both given the same canvases but envisioned the pieces differently.
Not to sound too cheesy, but it did feel like the perfect metaphor — we all have different outlooks, different experiences, and different life stories, even within the lens of cancer, and yet, we can all find common ground on the same canvas.
Look out for Simple and Sylvan’s embroidery kits on Go Imagine.
Welcome Friends, I’m Natalie.
I’m currently fighting breast cancer and am an amateur craft enthusiast.
On November 3, 2022 I was diagnosed with DCIS or Stage 0 Breast Cancer in my left breast. After a couple months of deliberation, I decided to do a unilateral mastectomy and reconstruction. On February 3, 2023, I underwent my mastectomy.
I’m currently fighting breast cancer and am an amateur craft enthusiast.
On November 3, 2022 I was diagnosed with DCIS or Stage 0 Breast Cancer in my left breast. After a couple months of deliberation, I decided to do a unilateral mastectomy and reconstruction. On February 3, 2023, I underwent my mastectomy.
Prior to my surgery and throughout my recovery, friends and family would gift me creative crafts. I grew a collection of coloring books, paints, and crafting kits — from wood carving to knitting. While I was still physically and mentally recovering from the surgery and waiting for the pathology results — I found joy in using my hands to create and calm my mind. Whether it was as simple as coloring with colored pencils or painting a landscape scene, these projects would help me get out of bed and bring a little light to the discomfort I was feeling in my day to day. If you’ve been there, you know.
The week after surgery I learned that the pathology report was negative, my margins were clear, I was cancer free, I was done. The only daunting tasks left were to bring back movement into my upper body through physical therapy and the reconstruction later that Fall. As I continued to heal, I would continue to craft — getting a little more ambitious with some of the projects and trying new ones as I recovered from my reconstruction. As I approached a year after my mastectomy — I was feeling lighter, healthier, and more joyful. I planned a yoga retreat to Panama to celebrate my new lease on life and left feeling grounded, grateful for the lessons I learned over the past year, and beyond ready for my next chapter to begin.
In a cruel twist of fate, three weeks after I returned, on February 22, 2024, I learned my journey was not complete — this chapter was still being written. A suspicious area that I was told (almost too confidently) was most likely scar tissue, ended up being the same cancer and it had spread to my lymph nodes. My entire care team seemed shocked by the news — they would classify it as a recurrence. I spent the next month and a half in anger, denial, and in an unhealthy spiral of questions. Why wasn’t this caught during the first surgery? Why would I have another year and a half taken from me to focus on this disease? Why is our healthcare system so hard to navigate? Why do I have to advocate for myself while I’m also dealing with so much already? I moved through the motions and listened to what my doctors told me in a fog. On April 11th at 10:30am I would undergo my first chemotherapy treatment. This Friday, I will have my fifth infusion.
Since starting chemotherapy and in the days that I give myself to recover, I find myself navigating back towards my collection of crafts. They bring me a sense of purpose and a sense of control in the chaos of emotions and side effects.
A month ago, in a moment of kismet, I was catching up with a friend of mine and I sent the following text:
“Just crafting my way through cancer. ✨”
As soon as I sent it and saw the message staring back at me, I knew what I had to do. My intention for this blog is to create a safe space for anyone touched by cancer — whether you are also going through it, you are caregiving, or you are surviving. Through the joy of crafting, this is a place where we can share our stories and build a supportive community.