Quilted Memories

Outlandish stitches of colours and shapes remind me of quilting. I’m not a quilter like one of my sisters, like friends from here and abroad but I do appreciate the skill, creativity and yes the passion of quilters. My one completed attempt, made over thirty years ago, was a little lap blanket that was repurposed to be a faithful yoga mat. That quilted yoga mat, not really long enough, was retired a number of years ago because it had become faded and many of the beautiful little squares had come loose from their stitching. It is so fragile now that it’s resting place is on the back of a rocking chair. Remembering the day that I made it always qualifies as a warm fuzzy. A colleague of mine from my Texas days and I had a quilting day. This friend and very passionate quilter I have completely lost touch with as our paths separated soon after that lovely sunny day. She was a quilter with a collection of brilliantly coloured fabric prints. She showed me the measure and cut for this project, where and how to line up the panels so that I actually created this precious small quilt. 

I tell you about this because it is what I like to call ‘experience in memory’. I have loved going through boxes and suitcases of pictures, and more recently, paging through my digital photo albums. I still prefer the tactile nature of photographs. But I digress. Back to the little tattered, faded lap quilt and yoga mat. Each time I gently pick it up, carefully refold it, or even just glance at it, I remember that day. It’s not the sewing machine or my friend’s home, but is the sunny day working with the passion of that friend about quilting. I have not taken up quilting due to that experience but have appreciated quilters, their passion for quilting and the many quilts that have covered me and in general, grace my home. They each have their stories.

“You should *have* an experience; it shouldn’t just *be* an experience,”

~ Alan Cumming