After three days of itching, I bagged up what I thought was the offending allergen and trotted over to urgent care. Yes, it’s hives. Yes, it could’ve been because of a newly purchased cocoa butter body gel.
After getting my scripts and instructions, the nurse picked up the ziplock bag with the gel in it.
“You can throw that fucking shit out,” I told her.
I may itch and look a pretty sight, but at least I made the doc and nurse laugh!
The midsection of this work-in-progress uses a contour map print for the central form, leading me to call this and others in the series, “geography of the heart.” The embroidered word “love” below the heart underscores the theme, but in a generic and possibly saccharine way.
I was nevertheless prepared to finish it up when I came across some spoonflower fabric that used a collage (above) that I made a while back as part of the second of two sketchbook projects.
The scrappy fella silhouetted speaks of war orphans, Spanish flu orphans and children of immigrants in New York City.
More specifically, this jaunty man-boy is a stand in for my father who grew up in Woodhaven, New York (an area sometimes claimed by Queens, sometimes Brooklyn). As a teenager he worked as a runner on Wall Street. I can imagine his wiry form, his scrawny athleticism. Eventually he earned enough to attend Pratt Institute and set himself on a path out of the boroughs and into the suburbs.
Suddenly, the idea of the heart’s geography comes alive with particularly.
‘Design is working with what you have and doing the best you can to hold it together.’ Jude Hill
One of the biggest challenges for a collage-style quilter is holding onto the feeling of the piece as you adhere the components. Things that are overlaid in the design phase may lose an element of spontaneity or positioning or something when pieced. On the other hand, if elements are simply stitched down, they may not relate well enough to each other.
Problem one: to lend more meaning to an otherwise generic notion of origins. Solved: by inserting scrappy fella.
Problem two: adding one overlay guy on the left (circled in red). The strip of spoonflower fabric under him will be seamed — just like the right-side panel. But the guy? If I appliqué him will he float too much? And if, on the other hand, I piece him in, will the narrow seam allowances be significant enough subtractions of pattern to disrupt what’s going on?
I’ve gone both ways with this over the years without having formed a real preference. This time, I think I’ll use appliqué.
[Couldn’t find my xerox copies of the sketchbook and so grabbed a few images from Flickr. The first two page spread below is shown two ways. It reads: When will they try to steal your liberty?
The bottom image shows the title page, “It’s Not About Me” — which was one of the themes offered that year.
After reading Fiona’s post describing the making of her banner for Mo’s project (“I Dream of a World Where Love is the Answer), I decided I wanted my own embroidered “love”. So I stitched the word on a strip of walnut-dyed cloth just below an appliquéd heart. It seemed a good spot.
Have you noticed how often typing on a phone that one mistakenly types ‘live’ when one means ‘love’ or ‘love’ when one means ‘live’?
The quirks of a teeny iphone keyboard dishing up a philosophical message is emblematic of our age — for what is life without love?
To live is to love. To love is to live.
If one is loving, of course.
We were out of town this weekend and I got to witness the tender care my sister-in-law gave her 91 year old father. Did he need anything? Could she read his cards to him? Didn’t he look sharp in yellow and how about walking down the hall a little ways? I reflected on how my manner with my sister in no way approaches such soft, tenderness; how I could NEVER get her to walk down the hall a little ways; how impatient and defended I can be.
There are lots of reasons for the differences, reasons both exonerating and out of my control, but the weekend felt like an object lesson anyway.
Because it was also Kentucky Derby weekend, the guys made mint juleps.
The visits are always short these days and all the more precious for being so.
“The pathologies of love do not necessarily work against relationship. They have a meaningful place, a job to do, and a color to add. . . If we could see our relationship problems as signs that the soul is trying to move, we might give them more positive attention. . .”