A Quilt Square of Paris
There seems to be a quilt theme going on in its small way. Mimi at French Kitchen wrote beautifully about patchwork quilts the other day, and Laume shared her own experience with quilts and healing here.
And, of course, we had Lani Diane Rich on in conjunction with the release of her new book, The Fortune Quilt, wherein a certain quilt is (obviously) central to the story.
My mother made Memory Quilts for each of her seven children, each square of these quilts a carefully embroidered, appliquéd, quilted work of art featuring some important moment in the son or daughter’s life. She tried to give them to each of us on our 30th birthday, although sometimes she would run a little late getting them done.
More than half the blocks on mine concern travels, a fair percentage of those travels in France. And I am feeling woebegone and beleaguered because I have been trying and trying to take pictures of some of the quilt squares, and they ALL turn out blurred.
All of them. It is a still subject. I am bracing. I am using a digital camera on automatic. With flash. Without flash.
Photos. You know, they are just not my skill. And I can’t even enlist Sébastien, who is off swanning it in San Francisco.
Here is the blurry photo of the quilt square that represents Paris.
If you look closely, past the blurring, you can see “2000” on the Eiffel Tower, which also has little sparkly threads, because that’s what the Eiffel Tower looked like at the turn of the millenium.
And you can see the rose window, if you look closely at Notre-Dame.
You CAN’T see the exquisite stitchery. I am not doing my mother’s work justice, because I can’t get it focused enough to show the detail. Here is my mother, expert photographer, looking at me.
Actually, in this particular photo she is looking at Sébastien, but that is the WAY she looked at me when I protested her truffle thievery.
It is probably also the way she looked when she read that I wrote, “she didn’t have the royal nerves under pressure” in Blame It on Paris. Which, now that I think about it, given that she had seven children, four of whom are my brothers, might not be an entirely accurate view of my mother.
My quilt has 72 quilt squares of this intricacy, plus 72 plain but elaborately quilted squares in between. My mother of 7 kids made 7 quilts like this, each quilt an extraordinary thing, both in terms of art and in terms of the love that went into it, a celebration of each child’s value and life.
Sometimes–most times–the things people are capable of are truly amazing. Do you have an art that you pour something into, and what is it that you pour? What form does it take (blogging, quilting, writing…?) What does it celebrate? (Paris? Something else?)
This is not a contest, but if you want to tell us about it in the comments, I would be fascinated to hear. Or if you want to tell it on your own blog and post a link to that in the comments, that is fine by me, too. Because people often have amazing gifts to share.