Mission

The name Mission came quite late. The pattern itself started somewhere else, with a loose interpretation of Hungarian stitch and its characteristic rise and fall.

Once removed from embroidery, though, that familiar textile structure seemed to develop a life of its own. Following it across the surface feels almost like following a route. It rises, falls, changes direction and then carries on.

There is a curious sense of purpose to it. Nothing actually arrives anywhere, yet the repeated geometry always appears to be heading towards something. That contradiction eventually suggested the name.

I have always liked the way textile patterns can do this. Their construction might follow a simple set of rules, but repetition introduces associations nobody necessarily planned. A stitch becomes a route, a staircase or even a rather determined journey.

Mission still owes plenty to its textile beginnings, although it no longer feels tied to them. The thread has gone, while that regular rise and fall remains. Maybe it has a destination. I am quite happy not knowing what it is.