What was my constant attraction to the images of women and their needlework? Over the last few years I would see bags of tossed away handiwork at Goodwill selling for pennies and emotions would emerge. Some colors were gaudy, images were elementary then I would see a beautiful piece of embroidery that was breathtaking. I became intrigued by the ironic contradictions of needlework and the needle/pin. The pin I can relate to as well as the PIN. It seems I am always needing my PIN. I know my PIN. Where is my PIN. Why can't I have one PIN? That is a strong PIN. I keep forgetting my PIN. Which PIN? Shit, I forgot THIS PIN. don't tell anyone your PIN. Damn it, I wrote it down somewhere. Yeah, I remembered my PIN. You have tried too many times, want to reset your PIN? Call customer service to unlock your account. Can it be that simple? Can I just call and reset a new day with a new PIN? The PIN/pin oppressive and liberating.