Archive for May, 2007

The Crooked Nail, and Painting Outside the Lines

Thursday, May 31st, 2007

Tonight, there was a special on TV about Crafts. Various artists were featured, some basket makers, furniture makers, and a blacksmith. One of the furniture makers had spent a lot of time making a cabinet, a beautiful cabinet. Then, he attached a bent nail with some staples, in a location where one might expect a knob or a handle. Everyone wanted to know why. Why did he, in essence, deface this work of art? He said that he is tired of being asked about the bent nail, but it was just something he had to do.

Part of the process of creating something is knowing that we can make it any way we wish. In an old quilt I have, the quilter’s initials are, “S. M.” She decided to turn the second letter on end so that they (the embroidered initials) look more like, “S. E.”

I have heard of a process by which someone pieces an entire quilt top and then gets out the rotary cutter to slash it and then it is reassembled in a more haphazard (artistic?) manner, an idea, not that dissimilar to that of a crazy quilt (asymmetrical, etc.)

Yes, part of creating is knowing we can destroy. It’s also having the freedom to re-build again, in any way that suits our personality, our choices, or our mood, at the moment.

I have made some crooked rope baskets, not on purpose, however, but only because I did not have the skill to do a better job.

I’ve come to some conclusions. In my opinion, it’s one thing if you do sloppy work or work just to suit yourself, and you decide to call it “art.” If your work is simply a demonstration that you haven’t taken the time to learn your craft or art well, then it is a reflection of your lack of skill.

Do your homework before parading yourself as an artist. A lot of poor work is being turned out today and labeled “quilt art.” Instead, it is really narcissistic, self-expressionism taken to new heights, made by someone without enough art training or quilting skills to make the final product what it really could be, in terms of meaning to others, and an object of intrinsic, artistic merit, were there more attention given to details as well as necessary skills applied to make the piece “fly.” Wow, that was a mouthful! Please don’t send out the cavalry!

Some would call the purposely-bent, added nail on the cabinet, “artistic.” The woodworker knew exactly what he was doing, could have made it as “perfect” as any man could have, and yet for a reason of his own, decided to add a built-in flaw, if only to make an “artistic statement.”

To simplify my thoughts: If you paint outside the lines because you want to do so and know you are doing it, fine. If you do that because you don’t have the skills to do any better, maybe you should practice and get the skills you need. That statement could apply across the board to any of the many areas of artistic, creative endeavors. Capish?

Rhetorical question of the day: Is it really true that artists are “rebels without a cause”?

Pat

http://www.quiltersmuse.com

Measures

Wednesday, May 30th, 2007

We have lots of ways to measure things in life, and we have ways to measure life itself. We have cup measures, teaspoons, tablespoons, beakers, gallon jugs, quart containers, rulers, tape measures, barometers, hygrometers, and thermometers, just to mention a few measuring tools. We make marks on the door, in pencil, to measure our child’s vertical growth. We have scales that may serve to remind some of us just how sedentary we have become.

We could measure our lives by how much money we have in the bank, how big a car we drive, what kind of home we live in, or even how many friends we perceive ourselves to have.

What I want to tell you next is simply my opinion. Your life and mine cannot be measured…except by what is in our hearts. Is your heart filled with kindness or consumed by petty jealousy? Do you want to help your fellow man or woman, or do you prefer to go your own way? Are you ready to say a few kind words whenever you can, or do you prefer to avoid extending yourself, or even giving credit where credit is due? Only you can answer these questions.

In the long run, it is not the size of your waist that matters, or the size of your feet, too little or too big. The true measure of a person’s success is peace in knowing that he/she has does his or her very best. The true reward is not in hearing the applause of others. Ribbons, trophies, Academy Awards are symbols. Fame and the approval of the masses is fleeting and never stands the test of time.

The most important thing in life is to accept yourself and all of your own foibles, whatever they may be. If you don’t like something about yourself, try to change. If you feel you can’t change whatever is bothering you, then concentrate on accepting it.

In the end, there is you, and there is Eternity, and at that point, applause from anyone else matters little.

Patricia Cummings

Textiles: A Cradle to Grave Affair

Monday, May 28th, 2007

Whether someone is a textile fanatic or not, it is a common truth that we all use textiles in our daily lives. What would life be like, without sheets, towels, dishcloths, wedding gowns, baby outfits, blue jeans, and so much more?

More than anything else, people want to dress well for special occasions, and even for daily wear. How we dress can actually make us look better. For example, a jersey with horizontal stripes will not look very becoming on a very wide body. In that case, vertical stripes are in order. Conversely, if one is thin, then horizontal stripes will look great!

Certain colors look better with specific skin colors. While I love the color orange, in a quilt, I do not look good wearing orange near my face. It makes me look washed out, and it does not complement my pinkish complexion and hazel eyes.

No matter if we are careful in our choices of color or not, they do have a psychological effect on those around us. I really enjoy it when Jim wears a blue shirt or a gray one. Those colors suit him and match his calm, serene, uneasily riled, personality. Whether we realize it or not, the colors of clothes cause a profound response in the viewer.

As I started out to say, clothes and textiles are with us, from cradle to grave. Some items are ornate like smocked and embroidered dresses for little girls; others are strictly utilitarian, like tablecloths and embroidered dish towels.

I guess I’ve been very lucky over the years in being able to find unusual, old textiles to study and to discuss in my writings. It’s been a lot of fun learning about the specific categories of old textiles, domestic and foreign, and their history. Clothing and textile-related topics are inexhaustible and I have a hunch that I will not run out of interesting things to study, regarding all of that.

So, it is with great joy that I continue my quest daily to learn more about this exciting subject of textiles: how, when, where, and why they were made, and for whom; and historical trends and connections.

Have a great Tuesday!

Pat Cummings

http://www.quiltersmuse.com

Animals – A Comfort in Any Season

Sunday, May 27th, 2007

As a society, we are in love with animals. The most heartwarming tale I have heard lately is that of a dog adoption that resulted from an intervention by U.S. Rep. Paul Hodes of New Hampshire. Due in part to his efforts, an Iraqi dog that was very special to twenty-two year old, Army Specialist Justin Rollins, has come to live with the deceased soldier’s family. Rollins, called “Ro-Ro” by his comrades in the 82nd Airborne Army division, had become attached to the short-haired puppy, now named “Hero,” right before his death on March 5. The military man always had been fond of his own family’s pets, while he was growing up. Now, his family will think of him as they care for a dog that he loved in that far away land.

Animals often make the news. Remember the air-conditioned dog house purchased by the Bakers? Yes, we humans tend to spoil our pets. Dogs, especially can be our most constant and most forgiving companions. A poignant story was told in a television Hallmark special, some time ago. A dog had lost his master and every day, he returned to where his former owner was buried, and laid on top of the dirt. If the dog was missing, that was where he was sure to be found, waiting for his master’s return.

There is an unmistakable bond between pets and their owners. Pets alert us to danger, “hear” for the hearing impaired, “guide,” for the seeing-impaired, and “search,” for rescue teams. Dogs get frustrated when we are not at home. They do things like grabbing the end of the toilet paper roll and trailing a stream of white throughout the house. If left for an even longer time, they will shred the paper into tiny bits.

Dogs and horses are particularly gregarious. Horses will clamp their teeth onto the boards of their stalls, and “crib,” breaking off pieces of wood until half-circles C shapes have been removed from the boards. They are bored and do not like to be couped up for a long time.

Animal behavior is a challenge, and a study. Sometimes it is predictable. The parents of the poodle we had, when we lived in California, came into this world because his mother jumped over a baby gate to be with “Gemini’s” dad, while their owners were both at work.

Animals make us laugh with their stunts, and they make happy to see them, in all of their glory, in dog shows, horse shows, etc. Sometimes, animals cause us to slow down. Who can move a sleeping cat off of one’s lap, when the purring is just so intoxicating and hypnotic?

People have celebrated animals in photos, paintings, television shows, and even in quilts! I made a quilt with the image of a Dalmatian in the center…and had a lot of fun creating that baby quilt, I must admit. Animals are fun and they bring such comfort. I’m always happy to hear stories that have a great ending, like the one I shared. I think that the Iraqi dog will bring a lot of peace to the soldier’s family.

Hope you are enjoying the holiday weekend.

Patricia Cummings
Concord, NH

http://www.quiltersmuse.com

http://tinyurl.com/2a8437  link to a WMUR news story about Hero’s arrival.

Thoughts about Memorial Day

Thursday, May 24th, 2007

For those in the world of “work,” many will take a vacation day tomorrow (Friday) so that a four day weekend will be in store. A holiday is always a welcome respite from work, but Memorial Day (on Monday) is always a very special day because it is a day that we honor our loved ones gone before. Especially, we pay tribute to military members who have given their lives to protect Liberty as we enjoy it today. This year shall be no different.

Besides the usual trips to cemeteries to plant graves, say prayers, and pause for a few moments to reflect on the lives of formerly living people, anyone who is human cannot help but also consider the short time we are all here. One line of a song in Spanish says, “Soy polvareda que al viento va,” – “I am but dust that blows into the wind.”

In addition to poetry selections on our website’s poetry page, such as “Flander’s Fields,” and “High Flight,” this week I have added a mid-nineteenth century hymn to our site, “Work, For The Night Is Coming,” that speaks to the shortness of human life.

Some singers reflect on the their lives, in retrospect manner while they are still here, such as Frank Sinatra’s song, “I Did It My Way.” (We’re so glad he did!) The fact of death is acknowledged in prose, poetry, and song, and our fascination with it, as humans, seems unending.

On Memorial Day, we look at the impact of wars, including the current one. We measure and demonstrate our own patriotism by standing at attention, hand over heart, when the parade flag passes by. We sing traditional, patriotic songs. We eat some of the season’s first potato salad made with chives from the garden, and perhaps enjoy a barbequed hot dog. If we are lucky, we’ll eat a piece of pie, cake, or fresh strawberries and cream, with biscuit or not.

While we are celebrating the sacrifices of soldiers, we are also elated that it was not OUR personal sacrifice. Life goes on, babies are born, the economy rattles along. We all pay the price for peace on our shores, even indirectly, when that means that a fill-up at the pump costs a little more.

Yes, Memorial Day is a time to laugh and a time to cry, a time to appreciate those still with us, and a time to honor the vacant seat at our kitchen table. No matter what language one speaks, a universal theme seems to be “Remember Me,” – “Je me souviens.” Although we may sometimes feel like one ant in a teaming, swarming ant hill, we must remember that we are each important to the Author of the Universe. If we are honest with ourselves, we all hope to be remembered.

Enjoy the day, but please take a moment to reflect on this bittersweet entity that we call “Life.” Savor the joy of every waking moment and hold close those around you. On Memorial Day, we shall honor our heroes with pride, and treasure the fact that they gave their all, just for us.

Best Regards,

Pat

http://www.quiltersmuse.com

Billings Farm & Museum: A Delight in All Seasons

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2007

If one wants to learn more about daily life on a farm, in the 1890s, there are few places to go. One of those is practically right in my back dooryard, in a manner of speaking.

The Billings Farm & Museum in Woodstock, Vermont, is well worth the trip!

There is an extensive article on our website. For now, I will provide this teaser: the photo of a Victorian Crazy Quilt Pillow (reproduction) that looks cheerful, and sits on a settee in the corner of the parlor of the 1890 farmhouse that was occupied by the farm manager and his family. If you have the chance to visit the farm, please do. You’ll be so glad you did!

crazy quilt pillow (repro) at Billings Farm & Museum

Lovely Crazy Quilt Pillow, made by Loeky Merlo

Have a great day!

Pat

Pure Inspiration on PBS

Tuesday, May 22nd, 2007

Oh, how I love public television, particularly Sunday afternoon offerings. This past Sunday, I caught a very short segment that lasted just a few minutes. Featured was a song that I remember well from when I was a teenager and a member of the Grange, in my hometown. Scenes of sunset were chosen as a backdrop to the sung words of the old, nineteenth century hymn. I know not the religious preference of the eighteen year old woman who wrote the song in 1854, but this song has universal appeal.

“Fill brightest hours with labor, Rest comes sure and soon,” is a poignant message that is not dissimilar to other written sentiments of the same century and those before. Man lives life one day at a time, but we all have that knowledge, whether we want to think about it or not, that we shall not ALWAYS be here.

I love the words and the melody of the song and it was made even more meaningful, accompanied by visuals, and of course, because of the song’s connection to my past.

At the time, I was only fourteen years old and a member of a dwindling group of steadfast and devoted Grange participants. We were quickly losing the older members through attrition, and one by one, they left our midst. Do you have any idea of how strange it felt for me to be the youngest in a group of seniors, some in their late eighties?

Grange meetings were sort of like going to Church. The group emphasizes the care of growing and living things, be they plants or people; the care of the orphans and the widows; and the support of each other.

Anyhow, I decided to record the song for you to hear. I offer it as a “piece of my past,” and as a window into what life was like in the mid-nineteenth century when the song was written, and the 1960s, when I first became acquainted with this piece of music.

Best Regards,

Pat

Happiness: How to Get a Piece of the Action

Monday, May 21st, 2007

Lately, I have been asked a number of times if I would give my permission for an essay I wrote in 2002 to be reprinted. The title of it is “Happiness.” Five years ago is a long time to remember what I even wrote then, without reading my thoughts again. In fact, it has been so long, I might even become inspired by my own writing!

I will revisit the subject a bit here. To me, happiness is never found when it is sought after, as an entity in itself, and for its own sake. Happiness is not something that happens to you. Usually, it is the result (or the pay off) for an action you have initiated yourself. If you “do the right thing,” or “give to others,” – those can be two sources of joy.

A lot of times, people look for happiness in places where there is none to be found. For example, it is a known fact that unhappy people sometimes go to bars and drink, hoping to find a happy person to engage for the evening, to date, or even to marry. The trouble is that most people who hang out in bars are unhappy already, and since alcohol is a depressant, they become even more unhappy as a result of drinking. Then, say, they get arrested for Driving Under the Influence. They may get fined, or they may even do some jail time. Then, they have a real reason to be unhappy. I don’t know why people get into vicious cycles like that which are so self-destructive and can result in the loss of career, or spouse. I’ve seen this happen and have indirectly been a victim of this kind of behavior, and I know from whence I speak. People are their own worst enemies.

In thinking about Happiness, it does seem to be a moral obligation to dismiss unhappy thoughts from one’s mind, if only to be more bearable as a companion or life-long mate. While it can become a habit to wallow in old hurts, old grudges, and old complaints, and you know you do that, as well as I, it is more mentally healthy to develop a sense of gratitude for both the big things and the little things in our lives.

Case in point: As I was about to unlock my back door today, a friend and I noticed that there was a flock of Cedar Waxwing birds feeding on the nectar or bugs (?) on the blossoms of the apple tree. We both stood there for a good five minutes, watching these beautiful, distinctive, lovely birds. Just yesterday, Jim and I saw a pair of Orioles in the same tree, sucking the sweet nectar. I felt so happy at these sightings, if only in a fleeting sort of way.

While it is difficult to maintain a cheerful attitude in the face of daily disappointments and frustrations, we can all rejoice in the unexpected, little moments of joy: a greeting card in the mail; an e-mail from an old friend; the fragrant smell of flowers in the moist, night air; the smile of a friendly postman…all of these happenings can “make your day.” If you want to be a blessing to others, try smiling. It’s universally understood.

Savor those little moments. Together, they make up the essence of life. As for the rest, ignore your enemies (we all have them), and make the most of all of your personal talents and gifts. The above statements are my “recipe” for happiness and are ideas gleaned from a lifetime in which I have, at times, been subjected to the most abject misery possible, including severe mistreatment at the hands of others, in situations beyond my control, to a time, now, when I am feeling content most of the time; grateful, all of the time; and as Garrison Keillor would say, “Happy to be Here.”

The best is yet to come.

Pat

The Lessons of the Spanish Inquisition

Saturday, May 19th, 2007

Just recently, I viewed a television program that highlighted some of the details of the Spanish Inquisition. The show was an alarming account of fifteenth century Spain when the “Catholic Kings” attempted to extricate every last Jew or Moor from their midst. This was done by documenting the tattlings and gossip of maids who were present in every household, at that time, and who reported to “the authorities,” (that being the “Church”), any wrongdoing such as having witnessed the circumcision of a Jewish boy in a household, secret ceremony.

Files and files still exist that list the questions of the inquisitors at their tribunals, the answers of the accused, calligraphed by a “court” attendant, and the judgments made – for torture, for death by burning at the stake, for hanging, or for chopping off one’s head. Sometimes truth is more strange than fiction. These were actual events that happened to real people, difficult as that is to believe.

Humans have been persecuting others, for the beliefs they hold, for as far back as recorded history, it seems. Romans threw Christians to the lions. Witch hunts in Salem, Massachusetts are still a black mark on the history of the intolerant Puritans. However, the Spanish Inquisition perhaps topped the other purges of “infidels,” up to the time of the devastating events of Nazi Germany in the twentieth century.

In Contrast – Beauty All Around

As I stood doing my dishes this morning, I was looking out into my backyard where two robins were busily finding insects and worms on this rainy day. A patch of yellow wildflowers are blooming right outside the window. Maybe they are some kind of a weed. I don’t know their name. Beside them, are some pink Lily of the Valley flowers, an antique cultivar that I’ve not seen offered in any recent seed catalog. The Rhubarb plants in the distance are ready for me to pull some stalks and make a Rhubarb crisp, when it stops raining. I am surrounded by the beauty of Nature, even in the simple act of looking out my back window.

When I look at Nature, whether it is a sunrise, a sunset, a beach with tides going out and coming in, flowers, animals, or even babies, for me, it is not within the realm of possibility that there is no Supreme Being from which all of this wonder emanates.

Whether one calls that entity, “God,” “Jehovah,” “Allah,” the “Supreme Master of the Universe,” or simply the “Source,” it is a comfort to think that there is a “Divine Plan,” and “Someone Who Will Watch Over Me.” People celebrate this Being in song, and in prayer, yet we cannot agree on His name, or if one listens to the feminists, “Her” name.

I’ll leave you with one very radical thought. What if we set aside all the names – Methodist, Episcopalian, Jew, Muslim, Catholic, Seventh Day Adventist, Shaker, Presbyterian, Congregationalist, etc.? What if we all just quietly and passionately believe our own thoughts, without having to try to convert others to concur with our thinking?

The greater benefit to humanity would be, in some instances, less war and more peace. God, as I envision Him to be, is about peace, not war. Again, you are welcome to believe anything you wish, even if your choice is to have no ideas about religion, at all.

In conclusion and in my opinion, Faith is about Faith. One can have Faith without having Religion. Religion is about dogma and the insistence of thinking about a Supreme Being in a certain, prescribed way that adheres to the same thoughts of like-minded individuals within a certain group of Believers.

I share these thoughts because I have struggled with trying to make sense of it all, for many years now. There isn’t a day that I do not think about this subject.

Don’t Let Jesus “See”?

In the case of the Spanish Inquisition, it is reported that a black veil was used to cover the crucifix of Jesus so that He could not “see” the torture being carried out in His name. If Jesus is truly the Son of God, He is ubiquitous (meaning He is everywhere and “sees” everything), so this idea of veiling the cross is ludicrous. Sometimes, humans “can’t see the forest for the trees.”

I don’t often weigh in on the subject of religion, but in this instance, I am compelled to make these statements. I respect everyone else’s views, and their choices in the ways that they worship. Religious tolerance, after all, is the only option that is reasonable.

Peace,

Pat

Unwitting Comrades – A Short Anecdote

Friday, May 18th, 2007

One day, when we were in the shopping mall, I told Jim that I wanted to go into the card shop. Since shops like that are not his “thing,” he said he’d wait outside. I knew what I wanted to buy, so I headed right to that area. I had reasoned that whenever I hear of a death, I never have an appropriate card on hand, to send to the bereaved, so I thought I’d “stock up” on a few nice Sympathy cards.

Well, in that section, I saw an older gentleman whom I thought I recognized, but I was not quite sure the context of our previous connection. As I stood pondering the wide selection of cards, and perusing the verses of a few of them, he turned to me and said, “Did you know the person well? Was there much suffering involved, or did death come quickly?”

Mistaking my lack of a ready answer for my being overcome with grief, he said, “Oh, I am so sorry, I know it’s hard, please accept my sympathy,” and off he went.

Never have I felt more foolish, or more loved by a total stranger. He was reaching out to comfort me, at a time that he thought I had lost someone close and needed comfort. As it turned out, I turned on my heel and left the store, realizing my folly.

Condolences should not be dealt with in a mass market, one size fits all, kind of way. Even if, in lacking a more formal greeting card, I end up scribbling a few lines on a note card, sending an e-card with a few words, or simply expressing my feelings, in person, I shall probably never consider “buying cards ahead” again.

I guess, unwittingly, I was following in the tracks of my late mother. She would make a career of buying cards for every possible occasion, just to have on hand. Some of those cards are “antique” by now, and quaint to look at, and some became so mildewed, they ended up in the landfill before they reached any recipient.

Condolences must come from the heart, to be sincere, and no matter how many “canned message” cards one has on hand, they do not take the place of a personal touch. I shall always remember the unknown man, who lightly touched my arm, and looked into my eyes that day, and sincerely told me how sorry he was for my loss (that had not yet happened!).

God bless all who love, deeply and sincerely. May they find joy, in their going out and in their coming in, and may the fruits of their goodness beget the goodness in others.

Have a great day!

Pat