it's about family

Sometimes it seems there are quilts I just have to make.  I may not know why when I start--I just want to see what it will look like. I am curious. But there is something deeper too. At least that is the story of this quilt which I began some days ago. I knew I was tense. More pre-occupied than usual. After all, the memorial services for my FIL were going to be held soon and my DH and I were hosting the after party.  I think I should put that in Caps. This was a BIG deal.

You see my FIL comes from a large complex family. Relatives on both sides. Some of whom I know--they may even live just down the road from me.  Others that I had never met before.  Or just knew slightly. There were the traditional rivalries and factions. Those who did or did not  speak with each other. Stories going back way before my time. The end of an era. The passing of the torch to the next generation--my generation--and all of the emotion that the loss of a father or a father figure can create.

Now those who know me know that I am not a party giver. I work in my studio. Make quilts. Play in my garden. My family was small and compact. I knew my stories and my histories. But somehow we were hosting 50 people. I had to be organized. In charge.

And this is where the story returns to quilts. After all, my loyal readers are really not very interested in my husband's family or even my angst about throwing a party. But of course what did I do to calm myself but start a quilt. Like duh!!! I wasn't even sure when I started why I just had to make this quilt but I needed something to do. And I was curious about this piece. I could almost see it in my mind's eye.

So a few days before the party I made the first tentative blocks.

Amazing how good it felt to pin these four squares up on the wall. Yes, this was the way to go.

A few more. These colors are so lush. I felt like I was doing something.

But would it work? I knew the idea involved motion and color going both ways. Let me try.

Interesting look. The next days I came in and made a few more rows. I do love how it is coming together, don't you? Still not sure exactly where it is going but it feels like a statement. A purpose. Come to the studio. Sew. Make progress. Relax. Center myself.  Go home and clean house. Shop. Confer with my DH who has been working even more tirelessly for this occasion--it is his family after all. His father. His loss. Deal with the issues that invariably arise.

The day came. Of course it poured. But the sun came out just as they played Taps. There was enough food. Pizza and polenta. Lots of ice cream--my FIL loved ice cream. So many absolutely wonderful people to meet. So many great stories to tell and retell. And I realized that maybe the reason I just had to make this quilt was because it too was about family. How interwoven it all is. Tales that weave in and out.

I am still not sure what the quilt will look like when it is done. So much work to still do on it--I find it hard to be patient as I piece one row--one strip at a time still hoping that it will all come together as I want it to. But maybe this is why I had to make this quilt at this time? Does this ever happen to you? Do you ever make a quilt to sustain yourself? Is this why I sew?

enough already

No wonder I haven't posted for a while This morning I read this notice at my local post office.

Yes, that is a lot of rain. More than a yard of water. Almost an entire year's worth of rain. Oh, don't I wish I could send some of it down to Texas--at least five or ten inches. After all, Texas does not need to become a desert. And quite frankly we have had enough rain for a while. As a friend says, I have earned my right to complain about the weather even if I can't do anything about it.

And it is not just the rain. It is the endless potholders and eyeglass cases. So marketable. But do I ever have enough? Can I catch up? Isn't there more to life than this?

The clueless comments of the relatives. Trying so hard to be kind but just not understanding how huge the loss of my studio is. Why do we always expect more of them? Isn't that the problem?

Today the sun actually shone. I worked in my garden before work cutting back plants for the winter. Load after load of leaves onto the compost pile. Take that and that--incessant rainfall. Take that oh thoughtless relative.  I think of the words of a new friend who lost her home to a fire a few years ago. I think I remember reading about it. Gave me great advice. Don't do everything at once Ann,  she said. One day at a time. Surround yourself with those who do understand you. Your friends, your community, the unbelievable generosity of quiltmakers and artists, craftspeople and customers. These are the people to relate to. Their kindness keeps me on track.

And I tell myself I must make quilts. Not just the potholders and placemats, the table runners and eyeglass cases that sell out of my studio. But also the wall hangings and art quilts that enchant me. The ones I have to make. And so I start a new quilt. One based on the colors of autumn I can see on the Bridge of Flowers. Celebrating the blue sky and glorious colors. The greens and the rusts. The browns and even the blues. Don't you just love this picture? It has been haunting me even before I took it. This is not a quilt I need to make for an order but one I want to make. You must know the difference?

Slowly at first I start. One row like this:

Then another. Sketching out the next row. The rusts. So slowly it goes. Despite all the generosity my fabric stash is slim. I must search for that one piece that will hold it together.

But I can feel it coming together. I can see the outline in my mind's eye. And on Wednesday I can add more to it until it creates the quilt that I know it wants to become. This is why I do it.  And you, what motivates you? What keeps you going? How do you squeeze in the art you want to do?

a great discovery--Saint Gaudens

Recently my DH and I found the most wonderful hidden place to visit. Saint-Gaudens National Historic Site in Cornish, NH just a couple of hours north of Shelburne Falls. I had heard of the name of Auguste Saint-Gaudens but really didn't know much about him or his work--have you? However, we decided that since it only cost $5 each to get in, it would be fun to explore.

What a treasure. The site was his summer home for a number of years. Set overlooking the Connecticut River with a wonderful of Mt Ascutney. There are a number of different studios, stables and outdoor installations including a marvelous meadow that goes on forever.

First we saw his sculpture of Admiral David Farragut. As luck would have it my DH is related to Farragut's family--don't ask me to explain. I can't. I do know he built a house in Ashfield--although he died before he ever lived there.  A simple sculpture.

Then I started looking more carefully. Isn't this fish along the base just wonderful. So much texture.

OK--I was hooked. I had lived in Boston for a number of years and of course remember the Shaw Memorial of the Massachusetts 54th Regiment--the first African American regiment during Civil War. Have you seen this it?

I started looking at this piece more carefully. Look at the wonderful rolled blankets of the soldiers--such texture--simple but also complex.

And the feet--each one realistic but also artistic. I love all these designs.

And here is the mass of faces and the swords. So alive and full of motion.

It also turns out he sculpted Lincoln Standing. Lincoln Sitting. These are statutes that we all know. Look at the folds in the fabric. I love the expression of his face--complex, thoughtful.

I started noticing his use of texture and fabric. This simple shawl with the fringe.

 The robes in this garment.

And finally this is the last piece he did--it was of his wife. He was trying an impressionistic style. Interesting. So much to see--so much to look at that I would not have thought would interest me until I was there. . We had a wonderful time. Have you ever been? The gardens are also magnificent. And there is a special exhibit that was amazing--but that will be for another day.