The Aura of Sewing

 

Each time I run across a note book I have written in previously, then abandoned, I chuckle and sigh. I had hoped to keep a running list of all my endeavors with needle, thread, and yarn; however, I just forget.

Today I am planning/working on a peacock quilt. The idea has been prancing around in my mind in full bloom but never with the fabric and method decided. I have taken the first tangible step by roughly drawing the body and head onto my fabric. Now to decide-- how big should the quilt be? Shall I reverse appliqué or thread paint or both? 

All this to say I went down another avenue today but it was not a diversion.  I think I have accomplished something that will help me to focus in my creative mediums. Call it my muse but I will call it my Mother.

My Mother slipped quietly away in the early hours of November 2, 2021. It was strange--I anticipated it...knew it would happen. Yet when I went to poplar Bluff to curl her hair one last time, seeing her lying on the table sleeping, but not, it made no sense.  98years old but sudden. She was always and then she was not.

I went to my flower garden and brought in a resin statue, an Angel with her little Cherub, my Dad had given to me many years ago. She held a lantern which has rusted away, so replaced it with a colorful sewing machine ornament and placed it in a prominent spot in my sewing room. The Angel is now my Mother, my muse, my encouragement.

Mom was an accomplished seamstress among many other talents and abilities, I did not sit at her feet nearly enough as child to learn the finer art of sewing and tailoring garments but we spent many hours together making quilts. She passed the enjoyment and love of sewing to me along with the basic knowledge that if I wanted something, I could make it. The statue is from my Dad and the essence is from my Mom. Thank you both.