Wendy Golden-Levitt is a mensch who works with children using Jungian principles and … wait for it … cloth. Back in the day I sent two quilts her way. She commissioned one and the second (the crow) was a gift. Many readers of this blog also made cloth contributions.
I recently received a couple of emails from Wendy where she describes the impact my cloths have had on a particular child. I share the story below.
First, I have Wendy’s permission to share this. And J’s mother’s permission.
Second, until I was about twelve, everybody called me DeeDee.
Third, the heart-felt entreaties made by ten-year-old J. both uplift me and break my heart. It’s worth your time to read all her words.
Wendy quoted below. Sorry about the spacing. Some quirk I don’t think I can easily fix.
I also started seeing children again. here in my very tiny apartment. One of the older children I worked with for several years enjoyed working with your cloths. Her family was in Toronto for five years and returned to NYC this year. Long story short… she wanted to come here to “work on a couple of things.”
J., 10 years old, walked into my second bedroom and looked at me and said: “Where the heck are DD’s cloths?” They call you DD. I told her I had not unpacked them yet. But they were in a huge storage bin, sitting in my second bathroom bathtub. She insisted we look for them. And we did. We found Samantha the Crow cloth first. She grabbed it and said, “Good thing you didn’t lose this because I would have been very mad and have to start therapy again.”
She had a long talk with Samantha (what the kids call the crow). She lay on the floor, holding the cloth above her, and talked. Here are some of the things she said.
“Samantha. There is a problem in the place we live. We got a president who is making me scared to be a brown girl. I don’t know what to do. I want to play a lot. But I can’t. I am scared I will be taken away.
You are our crow girl. Can you do something? Can you make it safe for us? I want to learn the things you know. Because you fly. Because Wendy told me you carried fire and other things to help make the world in the very beginning. You know how to build, to count. You have a lot you can teach us kids.You have a whole world under you. (Referring to the different cloth squares you stitched underneath the crow). So I know you can help us. I want to not be afraid. I want to build something new like you. I want to also be safe like you know how to do. I want both. I want to make stuff. I think if you help us kids make stuff again, we could be okay.
Samantha? I want to walk in the nature centre near me and take my shoes off and look for you. I know with my shoes on you will not know me. But with my shoes off and grass and stuff on my feet you will know me. I want to meet you. Wendy says I can. Either at the nature centre or as a surprise. Or in my dreams. Please guide me and the other kids.”
And below is a second email about a second visit.
J. was back yesterday. Here is a poem she wrote during our session….with your crow (Samantha) cloth:
“I am black like the crow. I shimmer like the crow’s feathers in the sun.
I lay on top of DD’s cloth to let strong powerful energy into me. I lay on my back. It is important Samantha (crow) protects my back. My heart goes from front to back side to side.
I am finding ways to be okay even though I feel scared I will not be seen anymore, even though I have dark skin. The president you can tell has never worked with DD’s cloth.
I will learn with the squares underneath Samantha the crow how to build real love, real strong muscles of my heart. I will learn from DD how to speak and say “You will never make me a slave again.”
You could show this to DD if she is alive and wants to see it.”
Wendy: There is something in your cloths that resonates with both the effort of suffering and the effort of healing. The kids feel it. So do I.
Description of making Samantha here and Treasure Island Quilt and crow here.
Here’s a modern day conundrum: we don’t really have winter here in New England anymore and yet — the feel and sight of spring is palpable. Mostly it’s the light.
But also, look at those brave snowdrops! It was 24 degrees when I walked Finn this morning and yet there they are.
Almost done with baby quilt commission. I constructed it so that the longest seams run the width. That’s to avoid how even a small inaccuracy (and I’m taking 1/8”) can get really exaggerated on a long seam.
The brief did not include making the blanket an I Spy quilt but I couldn’t resist including a few critters and a motorcycle.
Two weeks ago, I upgraded my phone. It had been years. It wasn’t holding a charge anymore and I got sick of walking around in the red zone all the time. Wasn’t gonna spring for another battery.
Meanwhile, the computer that has recorded our tv programs for two decades crapped out. Gonzo. It’s the only way I can see cable, whether recording it or not. Therefore, there was no Maddow or Nicolle Wallace on this historic day.
I watched a four minute clip of Nadler announcing the two articles of impeachment while sitting in the car, in the rain, before going into the office building perched on the Wellesley side of the Charles River where I get my eyes checked. New glasses are in order.
After dinner, K announced that the Christmas tree light cord overheated and needs replacing.
I’m sensing a theme here.
At least the mice are getting dressed for the holidays! Two are chatting away in the dark of a postal box right now, making their way down the coast of the Atlantic.
As many of you know, awhile back I was commissioned to make a quilt for Wendy Golden-Levitt, a Jungian therapist in Canada who uses cloth in her work with children.
Wendy sent the fiber artists whose work she employs a beautiful book as a thank you. It is filled with the most moving testimony from the children, including wonderfully wise and curious speculations about the cloth makers.
Here are just a few gems:
“I am getting better working with the cloths. I can feel the people who made them. I think they understand what it is like to wait…”
“You step towards it [the cloth] and it whispers something. By the time you are holding it, you got a real relationship going. You can trust it completely.”
“Were they sad or stitching themselves into serious happiness? Do they have days when they are not feeling good in the heart? Do they listen to their dogs or cats? Do they eat waffles while they are sewing?”
I was so moved to see a young woman using “my” quilt as a prayer rug.
(and, by the way, check out how completely color-coordinate she is with the quilt — right down to her fingernails!!)
I blogged about genesis of the idea of a “Treasure Island” theme here and about it being in progress here, but apparently never blogged about its completion. So here are some pix. Fabric depicting a treasure map got me going with the idea of healing being like a sailor looking for gold. I wanted there to be lots of animals in the cloth, too — both as guides to the children, and as characters in whatever stories they were busy telling. I bound it with ‘baby-blanket satin’ to make it as touchable and inviting as possible.
Receiving the book was so moving, that it inspired me to send another piece — that Crow I’d been working on. I’ve heard from Wendy and the Crow has landed!!
I took a gazillion pictures of The Crow for some reason, so I plan to dedicate a post to it. But for now let me say that once I knew I was sending it to Wendy, I mounted it on velvet and added satin binding to the lower section… soft textures that will be inviting to the touch!
You have a whole world under you. (Referring to the different cloth squares you stitched underneath the crow). So I know you can help us. I want to not be afraid. I want to build something new like you. I want to also be safe like you know how to do. I want both. I want to make stuff. I think if you help us kids make stuff again, we could be okay.
Two weeks ago, I upgraded my phone. It had been years. It wasn’t holding a charge anymore and I got sick of walking around in the red zone all the time. Wasn’t gonna spring for another battery.
