This is a knitting/quilting blog, but since I believe in the adage that knitting art truly imitates life, I feel justified in writing about anything that looks like, sounds like, tastes like and feels like life/knitting - it is all fair game.
I was thinking about how much has changed in my life these last six months. At some point I realized that I was starting new projects in an almost frenzied manner - much like the events that have been occurring since April... unending, never anticipated, charging forward without reflection or pity. Now, I am faced with a slew of knitting and quilting projects - all clamoring for closure. It's overwhelming, daunting - depressing. (not unlike all that leaf raking to come...)
And closure is what I'm after - I have to believe this. The mind wants silence and success - hard to come by when every basket in the house is stuffed with fiber. If I were to complete each project, one at a time, I would have enough subject matter to keep this blog active through the new year. Instead of fussing and fixating, I made a promise to myself today - that I would work on what I have here, in this house, in these baskets, on these shelves. (gulp) I can do this. And perhaps, if I complete this lofty aspiration, perhaps THEN I will feel less swept away by these strange winds of change. (and maybe I'll actually go out and use the rake!)
This is the Halloween banner that I made several years ago when we grew and sold cinderella pumpkins and gourds. Now it spends the season hanging in a doorway where I can admire all of that handwork!
Many years ago I made this quilt, using the Pierre Deux cottons that I had hoarded for the better part of a decade! Of course i didn't have enough to fashion an entire quilt, so this became a combo of french and american cottons. It makes me smile to see it - I had not learned the technique of making snugly crisp bindings yet, and my piecing left a lot to be desired. But it was a testimony to my unsurpassable partner, and there was nothing contrived about those feelings.
Unless I'm mistaken, this was the beginning of my Gwen Marston period. Her book, 'Liberated Quiltmaking' had a profound effect upon me and how I came to view quilt making. It not only freed me, it gave me permission to throw caution to the wind, while keeping tradition in my sights. And, most importantly, it brought joy and newly discovered delight to the process for me.
I leave you with my front door ornamentation - if you look closely you will see actual cat hairs on this beauty as Bella-the-Ingrate knows no boundaries.