Way back, almost at the beginning of this journey. 2004? Quiltmaking. I began to put some words together to describe how I was feeling about "the quilt". Loose thoughts. On a loose page somewhere. I was not blogging then. I come across them now and then. The quilt as a documentary. These thoughts, also sprinkled throughout my old blog.
This is this morning, from the hill in the back of the property. I walked along the path I keep cleared ( to avoid ticks) up and past
my the sitting rock. To the stone wall that sits at the top like a ridge.
If you follow this wall (not an easy task) it borders the biggest land here and leads to a little spring, water comes up out of the ground and flows to a small river that forms a boundary on one side of the property. Hop over it... just forest.
I went out for a photo shoot. But found myself rethinking. Nest of Days. How all the larger cloths, they might be part of a series called that.
A Nest of Days, here, a small quilt, started way back, well am not even going to try to check when, it doesn't matter. When I think about quilts, they take time. So they inherently contain the time it takes, took. I often think about that. They are evidence of that. I think I often rest in that. And I think of that.
If I make a large cloth and give it to you. That is enough to say I was here. It makes me light as air. But there.
A nest of days. I hold them, they hold me. They hold you. And we go on. The best we can.
I planted more grapes yesterday. Eventually I hope they cover the far side of the fence. Some for us, some for the deer and still the vines will not shade the garden.
Why do I make? I make to give form to my thoughts, so I can share them. I make because I feel it can be a way to kindness.
Still and always an adventure in gift giving.