I want so badly to show what is up on my design wall today. But no no no I have to hold back, as it isn't nearly complete, and I don't want to reveal it just yet. Also because I want to take it to the quilt meeting on Monday and want it to be a complete surprise. I have to say that this was a surprise to me too. I was looking through the fabric closet, when out jumped a little packet of 5 inch squares from Hancock's...from exacly 6 years ago. I guess that 6 years ago I didn't have an idea of what I wanted to do with them, but when they jumped out of the closet at me...suddenly I knew what I wanted to do. Isn't it strange how that happens sometimes? Sometimes a fabric just sits around in the background, quietly biding its time, till its day arrives.In a way, I think people can be like that too--we have so much potential built right into us, but sometimes it just doesn't come out or find its expression. And then at long last it can come out.
I am finding that this is happening to me in quilting...I have been quilting for nearly 30 years now, just plodding along quietly, following other people's patterns and making those quilts. And now, the little voice inside me--perhaps my own Muse?--is starting to make itself heard. Perhaps it is still a very modest little Muse, and will only be heard from time to time, and even then not say anything too earth-shattering, but still the little voice is in there and longing to be heard.
This morning I got out of bed and ran down the stairs to look at the CREATION on the design wall. And after looking at it for a couple of minutes, a strange thought came into my head. When I lived in Baltimore, before moving to Israel, we had a wonderful little vegetable garden in the back yard. In the front yard, I had my azaleas, lovely dark pink things they were. On the side of the house, we had those amazing forsythias. They were always the first things to blossom in the spring. From time to time, I planted tulips and crocuses and grape hyacinths by the front steps. How I loved to see the crocuses push their darling little heads up through the snow at the end of the winter, as if they were impatient, like me, for the winter to end already and spring to begin.
Here in Jerusalem, I don't have a real garden, just flowers and plants in pots. And while I do enjoy them, it's not the same for me. I miss that creative labor in the garden, and maybe the need for it is pushing its way into my quilting. Just a thought...