Am I a quilter?? and a few deep thoughts.....

I've had some conversations and done some reading in the last few days that has really made me think of my hobby (quilting, hello...) in a new light. It started with me catching up on all the wonderful quilting blogs that are out there. There are some women (and men) who are so accomplished and make such terrific, perfect quilts. It really made me feel like I was nowhere near to the place that I should be to be offering my quilts for sale (even though I am), and that I still had so far to go before I could even jokingly refer to myself as a quilter (actually, I don't like calling myself that anyway - it sounds like my grandma). I don't usually feel so down about my craft when I read others' blogs - I often feel encouraged. However, that day... I didn't.

Then, my husband I went out for supper with one of his work contacts. Jerry is a 70 year old man, originally from Europe, and is very easily taken away from the conversation at hand and transported to wonderful topics about captivating things. This time he spoke about his younger brother, who is a fairly accomplished artist in France. Even though Nathan and I knew much of what Jerry "taught" us about, we listened intently while he spoke about the difference between Impressionist and Minimalist art. Jerry has a wonderful way of spinning a tale. Minimalism, according to Jerry, is art in it's simplest form. The object being portrayed may look nothing like you think it should in the final product, but it is the artist's rendition of it. I thought of my quilts, and how unlikely I am to spend a lot of time making a typical patterned quilt. In so many cases, I feel like that's been done over and over, and even though I admire other quilts finished that way, I love my quilts to be bold, graphic statements of what I perceive modern quilting to be. That's not to say that only bold, graphic quilts are modern - but that's my rendition of them.

Another thing that got me thinking was this article here. Read at least the first page of it. It speaks to the imperfection and organic-ness of nature, and how we can learn to embrace that in our life. Although I don't follow the Buddhist roots of this thought, I do appreciate the acceptance of the beautiful roughness that comes from a life imperfectly lived. I want to appreciate the fingerprints on my walls - for this is a season of life (I will appreciate them in between the weekly wall washing, at least). The toys that are scattered throughout my house remind me that I won't always have small, blonde, tousled heads sleeping on my pillow. And how does this apply to my quilting? Well, I don't aim for perfection. When I straight line quilts, the lines resemble stalks of grass waving in the wind more often than the sharp angle of a skyscraper reaching towards the clouds. Instead of this frustrating me, I find beauty in the obvious hand made look this offers. This is not all done by a machine somewhere. This is done my two hands that are often called to tie a shoe, or fix a toy, or kiss an owie. Perhaps this squiggly line was caused because there was a squirming three year old on my lap while I was quilting (happens more often than I'd like). Not to say that I want to allow for sloppiness in my work, but rather that I embrace the organic nature of the imperfect quality of my art. And yes, that is what I am thinking of it as. My quilts are my art. Some may appreciate my view of what a quilt should be, and others will prefer a more traditional quilt. And that is okay. I am feeling a little embarrassed to call myself a quilt artist, but it gives validity to how I think about the finished product, therefore I will attempt to squash that embarrassment.

Thanks for taking a minute to read my musings. I appreciate you, truly...