Lately all I say about my cloth creations is: it’s finished, it’s almost finished, this one’s not been finished for a long time.
Maybe I’ve become vacuous. Maybe thoughts about what I’m making aren’t cohering right now.
The house as symbol of home has endured for me. Home as sanctuary, home as placemarker, home as stand-in for the self.
Let the cloth do the talking is certainly one way to go.
What I will say about this little piece is that I kept working on it long after I might have considered it done in the past. You could say: I fussed.
I kept adding to rooflines on the big houses and kept finding more places to add a roof in the woven foreground.
Unlike business as usual, I wouldn’t quit quilting as long as even the slightest bulge was in evidence.
I might be in less of a hurry. My standards may have shifted slightly. I don’t know. I certainly don’t think of my home as a sanctuary right now, so maybe straightening rooflines and quilting a moon to within an inch of its life gave me something to do other than cry.
We went to three performances in our town’s Porchfest yesterday. The heat stifled and against all reason most songs made me think of Danny. But at least we got out and connected with friends and family.
At 12:18 last night I realized, outside of getting choked up talking to another mom who lost a son to suicide, I did not cry yesterday. Yesterday, then, was the first day since March 16 that there were no tears.
I’m not sure that’s to be celebrated.
P.S. I included pieces of both of these cutter-garments and one other that I bought in Longmont.
P.P.S. The quilt includes a Deb Lacativa scrap (house on right) as well as pieces of six other garments, including one I purchased in Denver a few years back and also including a rectangle from an old pair of boxers of Danny’s (the green plaid under the black window).
Andrea Gibson (deceased) and Megan Falley.
This makes me consider why I consigned my only house quilt to the flames with Jim. It was his favorite. Tucked him in with it before they took him away. Never considered making another.
A day without tears stands for recognition.
Powerful association. My house quilts of course do not link only to Dan and maybe only to Dan as symbol.
You know I’ve always been drawn to your houses and choices of cloth in making them. This one is definitely another beauty. Ahhh summer to be out and about .. makes me happy that you went. Today within walking distance Michael’s brother will be playing at a Food Truck and Jazz festival. His brother is not one of my favorite people .. only calls when he needs help with something. Although Michael was really looking forward to seeing his brother he woke up not feeling well .. he’s been on a new medication the last few days. I feel bad for him and sorry for myself cuz since it’s just blocks away I guess I’ll go even if it’s just for an hour or so. I know it’ll make Michael happy to see me make the effort.
Besides a walk will do me good .. since we lost our little Sweetie I don’t walk as much as I probably should.
Sending hugs 🤗
Things get complicated in a hurry sometimes don’t they? I missed your loss of Sweetie? Tell me.
Two weeks today…his favorite Aloha shirt on his body as he morphs into ashes. I sit here writing this wearing one of his Aloha shirts, the only black one he owned, preferring the color of the sea on all of his Aloha shirts, various hues of blue. It was a fluke that he bought this one, black with white outlines of hibiscus and leaves. Black and white but nothing is black and white these days…half a world away, my grand kids, along with their parents, light a candle in a church in Rome, Italy, remembrance of their beloved granddad.
Early this morning, I took some blue flowers from a bouquet recently sent to me and bundled them in a piece of white cloth, plunked it in my copper pot, steamed the cloth, took the copper pot outside to let the cloth cool, saying,”Hi honey, I’m making a bluish cloth, I think you would like it.” Soft New Mexican breeze touches my face, causing eyes to leak…or so I tell myself, it is the wind…but spirit knows the truth.
Yes the truth is you miss him 😢 I’m enjoying all your comments on the few blogs I’m still able to visit and that you’re dying again .. wonderful healing for your heart and soul.
(((Marti)))
I’m so sorry how this all hurts, Marti.
Love that your grandchildren can light candles in Rome for Rich. It reminds me that when I first visited Rome (in 2019) it was a matter of weeks since my sister had died. I lit quite a few votives for her, something she would have appreciated.
Keep talking to your beloved! I know I am.
Dee~ The way you manage to bring life from these bitty bits. You invite the eye to look for long stretches. Like Tina, I have always appreciated your houses – the creation, the connection – dare I say need? to create these small sanctuaries. I will always think of you when I see small houses! I was inspired to recall the small, glass house shaped vase I found and sent you…and imagine some small flower in it to bring you beauty.
Our town has Concerts in the Park…but it is across the valley, always way too packed and usually ‘tribute’ bands. We haven’t gone in eons. I’m glad your was more accessible and that you got out a bit.
A day without tears doesn’t need to hold any special meaning or milestone…perhaps just a day of respite. May you have more days or moments or ? of respite strung together (even if there are gaps).
xo
I wonder where that vase got off to. Now I’ll be hunting it down.