Tending Peter, an embroidery reflection on tending babies and gardens by Anna Hultin

Anna Hultin is a wife, mama, gardener and artist living in Loveland, Colorado. After receiving a BFA in drawing from Colorado State University, she continued to pursue drawing, sculpture, and installation. Since becoming a mama her work has taken on a new, more flexible form: needle and thread. Her embroideries are inspired by historical botanical drawings and her land; from the vast and rugged landscape of Colorado to the intimacy of her own garden.

In her Garden Series she attempted to stitch every vegetable and fruit growing in her garden. As a busy mama of two boys, it is a reflective process to sit down and spend time with each plant growing in the garden.

Tending Peter, an embroidery reflection on tending babies and gardens.

You began as a speck.

Rooted in love.

When we dirtied our hands planting seeds that year you were already the size of a melon.

We dreamed of you.

Dreamed of our garden in those cold weeks of February when the sun heating the hard ground was the only hint that summer left behind.

So, we planted our seeds. And thought we had two more months left until we met you.

But a month before your due date we learned you were in danger. And we needed to get you out.

So, the seeds, back at home lay dormant in that cold winter sun while we worked through the day and night in that hospital room. My body, me, and you. Pulling from strength I never knew was there. Worked until you came crashing into this world.

And they said you might struggle. You might not be able to breath.

But there you were. Strong as the rock we named you for. And we tended. And you grew. And you grew.

And those seeds grew with you until they were ready to be planted in the ground. Where they took root.

And you came home. Where you took root.

And we loved and fed and sat and sang.

And now in the sweat of summer those cold February days seem so far away.

And as we harvest our food and sit with you in the garden, we savor in the feast of what we’ve been given. And we hope to never go hungry.

Words and images by Anna Hultin