Sunday, July 21, 2013

quilts first....

art second...

that was the feeling of the quilt show in sisters

i'm not saying quilts aren't art, nor am i saying that the quilts displayed weren't stunning, nor creative, nor innovative

i'm just saying that thinking about quilts as art wasn't as important as quilts just being quilts


 it's kind of fitting; they started that way, after all


warmth, weight, comfort, coziness


 approachable


 touchable


relatable
(i love, love, love making up my own words!)


 and as we wandered around looking at them, in all their differences and all their the samenesses

i could sense the wheels were turning

brother and sister, looking at quilts...

it was only natural their thoughts would turn to their mother's quilts


 iva made quilts for each of them, and also for each of her grandchildren


beautiful simple quilts, made with remnants and scraps - the good bits of old clothes and curtains

quilts with memories, made from love


 fabrics from play-clothes


and precious bits bought on purpose...

strawberry shortcake for a little girl's quilt - the only little girl...


and one with little shoes for a boy


and one of flannel just given back to a child (my nephew) in preparation for his child-to-come


quilts live on

if they're loved well enough



 we walked, we looked, we talked and we pondered

and we wondered... next year, we should put in some of her quilts -  

iva, granny

mom

she taught me how to make templates, how to hand-piece and how to hand quilt

i remember it still, at the dining room table, talking about it and drafting the pattern templates from a popsicle box 
(i still have those pieces, even after all these years)

and in the six weeks of her visit i made a doll quilt for my daughter - hand pieced and hand quilted

with horrid, ugly white bias binding which looked awful

but she told me it wouldn't matter, i could make my own next time, in whatever colour i wanted - for now it just mattered that i learn how to put it on, while she was there


 and she was right, of course

now i can take all the time in the world to search out just the right fabric for just right binding

then, it was a matter of learning what i could while she was able to teach me

and she taught me well i think - to this day i do love quilting more than anything else


 and next year, maybe


we'll walk these streets in search of her quilts, hanging here, in the greatest outdoor quilt show on earth

where quilts are quilts

5 comments:

KW said...

thank-you...xoxo

FlowerLady Lorraine said...

Great stories of love being made into quilts.

What an inspiration.

My very favorite this time is the fourth up from the bottom. Those colors just speak to my heart.

Love and hugs to you ~ FlowerLady

Createology said...

Jillayne Dear you have written a simple yet very special and meaningful post that kept me entranced with each and every word. I do hope that your family is able to showcase some of Iva's quilts. What a special and loving lady to spend time teaching you the art of quilting...each stitch just sew! Blessings...

Mosaic Magpie said...

Oh the memories that are stitched to our lives with a needle and thread. Lovely post.
Deb

Deb said...

Wonderful moving post, your words touch places in my soul and evoke such lovely memories of my own. My grandmother taught me to hand sew when I was a young child, sadly she was only a part of my life for 8 short years, yet those sewing lessons have followed me a life time. Each time I thread a needle I can see her face, feel her hands showing me how to stitch, and feel the pride she felt when I made my first seam. This quilt show is lovely, the fine art of quilting a quilt thank you for sharing the photos and your thoughts.