|
QNM's 35th anniversary calls for special commemoration.
Should I use coral...or jade?
Am I traditional or am I modern?
I enjoyed them all.
Quilted gems!
|
|
Choices
By Helen Kelley
This milestone of QNM's thirty-fifth anniversary calls for special commemoration, so I decided to see what I would find in the little pages of my "special celebrations calendar book." Under "Anniversaries, " there were two lists. The first one was titled "Traditional," and in that column, I found coral. Right beside that, in a second column headed "Modern, " it said jade. Now, this was the dilemma: which should I use? Am I traditional or am I modern?
Coral as the traditional representative for that occasion seems right and appropriate. Coral is a cheerful thing, soft in color. It's fundamental and organic in its feeling. Yet I must admit that I like jade, too. Jade is exotic and glossy. Jade is appealing. How is it possible to like something as primitive as coral and still love sophisticated jade?
As I sat at my at my quilt frame, I mulled over the question. Mentally I played with the touch, the color, the emotional appeal of each, and slowly realized that I was facing the same quandary with my own quilting. Years ago, when I first discovered the wonders of this craft, I was mesmerized by the vision of women of the past who made quilts with traditional quilt blocks. I fell in love with Irish Chains and Lone Stars and Bear Paws and Churn Dashes. The old stories of quilting bees and quilt frames that hung suspended from the ceilings of old homestead cabins intrigued me. My fabric cupboards filled with piles of soft pink calicos, rusty geometrics, and indigo mourning prints. Captivated with the history of quilting, I related to those women and their traditional quilts.
My first quilts were big. They covered beds, and they wrapped bodies in warmth and protection. Over the years, though, my quilts have changed. Now when I dream up a design, I still begin with the old, traditional patterns and finger through my stash to find the perfect gentle colors. But somewhere between the paper, where I've carefully drawn out my plan, and the final binding stitch, my quilt changes. It evolves. As I sew I talk to it, and it talks back to me. In my stacks of fabric, I'll find a different piece than the one I'd planned to use, and the new one will be better for a spot here and that one there. Then I'll find another fabric, and then another. I discover a variation for the pattern that I am using that has more life, some extra pizzazz. We become close friends, my quilt and I, and I pay special attention to what it tells me to do. Bit by bit, my quilt changes and takes on a life of its own.
At a big quilt show last week, I saw displays of traditional quilts. Some were all white, heavy with stippling and stuffing. Some were carefully crafted from reproduction fabrics, creating a soft, aged aura. Some were exquisitely appliqued. They were magnificent masterpieces. Not far away there were quilts with raw-edged applique, others with bold graphic designs, and some with painted images. There were three-dimensional shapes and some with cut-away areas to see through. Some of these were huge, some were small wall hangings, and others were minutely pieced miniatures, born of this modern age, conceived in adventurous brains, and constructed with a vision beyond tradition.
I enjoyed them all. I decided there was no need to settle on a preference. It was all wonderful. Each quilt was the product of the maker's personal experience and her dream-come-true in fabric. The wonder of it was that both the traditional and the modern quilts were jewels. I imagined a necklace made with rich, rosy coral beads and glossy, jade-colored ones, a circlet of precious stones, with the traditional and modern mingling spontaneously, much like this unique blending of our quilt gems.
I can't wait to take out my fabrics and my cutters and my threads. My mind is spinning, and my fingers are itching to create some sort of a salute, a textile treasure. I must make a truly traditional/modern quilt. It will be the perfect way to celebrate this thirty-fifth anniversary.
©HK 2004
Helen Kelley is a quiltmaker, lecturer, author, and teacher from Minneapolis, Minnesota. You can visit Helen on the Internet at her website www.helenkelley-patchworks.com or email Helen at this address: helen@helenkelley-patchworks.com.
Helen's book Every Quilt Tells a Story: A Quilter's Stash of Wit and Wisdom is a collection of two decades of Loose Threads. Now in its second printing, the book is available at quilt shops, bookstores, or from us at https://secure.tpli.com/VillageQuiltShoppe/QV_Products.asp. Helen will be signing copies of her book at our Primedia booth at the International Quilt Festival, October 30 through November 2, 2003, in Houston, Texas.
View our archive of Loose Threads columns.
|
