Fabric and Memory

As a believer in action to recover equilibrium, I have started a hand piecing and appliqué project with one of those block-of-the-month groups. It’s for a reproduction of a historic quilt that has never been made into a pattern before. It’s strange how something will grab your interest. I am not a great one for following patterns or groups but this piqued my interest and I felt I’d learn something and use up many scraps of fabric.

On the way up to the quilt shop yesterday to buy a piece of fabric for the background, we passed part of a lake my parents and I used to boat in, and out of nowhere I started sobbing, remembering my Dad letting me steer the boat through the narrows when I was a teenager. Ah well, such is the random chaos of memory.

Here is a card I made myself years ago with a snippet of Indian fabric and part of a poem by Maya Angelou.





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