quiltersmuse.com Blog

Yesterday, I decided to read, “The Story of the Youth Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was,” from Household Tales by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. This is the lengthy story of a boy who wished that he could learn “to shudder.” Whatever event to which he was subjected, he fluffed it off and went on his way. He could not become afraid to the point of shuddering.

The tale has an abrupt and surprising ending.

The one line I’ve taken away from the story is this profound one: “He who wants to be a sickle must bend himself sometimes.”

To me, the sentence speaks volumes. Aren’t we all, who are living, in the process of transforming ourselves into something that we are currently not? Doesn’t that take energy, as in bending and crafting metal into a different shape? Doesn’t the wish to achieve a goal require us to bend ourselves, mold our wills, and forge our determination?

Perhaps I’m more sensitive to nuances of language than some other people. To me, words counts. Those few words, “He who wants to be a sickle must bend himself sometimes,” is a set of words that speak of an intended transformation, and moreover, the desire to change.

We can learn so much from the wisdom of stories supposedly written for children.

Patricia Cummings

photo by James Cummings

The quilt above is one that I call the “Upholstery Quilt.” It is heavy. Goodness knows what is in it. It is also one of those quilts that, at the time of purchase, the sales clerk rolled her eyes back into her head, and asked why ever did I want to purchase this item.

Tired of explaining why I buy the oddest things (odd to someone else, that is), I probably just replied that “I like it.” That is simpler than what I could say.

When I see quilts made from fabric samples, as this one apparently is, I have to wonder if the person who made it worked in a factory. I have no information whatsoever about this quilt I bought in Vermont, although I would like to know more.

You’ll agree that it is bright, whimsical and lively. I’d love to know who made it, when it was put together, and all the usual information that the surface of a quilt cannot always offer up.

For now, I decided to share it with you. Of course, if anyone has more information about this orphan I’ve adopted, I’d love to hear more.

Patricia Cummings, http://www.quiltersmuse.com

I have a very active nightlife … after I go to bed … and especially before I wake up in the morning. My dreams remind me of James Joyce’s Ulysses or other novels that reflect the use of a stream of consciousness technique in their preparation. For the unknowing, let me say that this method of writing presents a person’s thought processes, as they are happening, in an attempt to reveal his character. Thoughts are often disjointed and seemingly unconnected.

I’m not sure what my dreams say about me. Here’s a run down of the latest (nightmare?). I was visiting my mother in an apartment. Her dog was drinking soapy water out of the bathtub where she was soaking a textile, so I drew some clean water for the dog, but she preferred the other. Then, I left and climbed down a mountain. I could see a large horse pen across the street, with black horses and white horses, both male and female. These were gorgeous animals who were parading down the street before being placed in vans … to be carried off somewhere.

I tried to go back to mother’s place on the side of the mountain, but in that short time, it had been blocked off and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get there. However, I could hear the voices of other family members who were with her. One of her granddaughters was showing her a model of Austria that she’d built, and was telling her she really should go there sometime as it is so beautiful!

Taking an alternate route up the mountain, I found a big screen TV and a few chairs. Next to me, was sitting a long-departed friend, eating a chocolate treat and complaining that it wasn’t frosted. Her friend joined us. Just as a movie came on, the mountain started spitting chunks of ice and I realized that an avalanche was in progress. Children and others were being swept down the mountain, as if sliding, while I sat off to the side, eating a chocolate bar and trying to decide if I should sit still, or be swept down the hill with the others. It was a decisive moment in which it was imperative to make a decision, yet, I was so paralyzed with fear, I couldn’t.

At that juncture, luckily I woke up. There may be some deep, psychological issues here, to decipher. I imagine if I had deep pockets, I could lie on some guru’s couch and have my dreams “interpreted.” For now, I think I’ll just wait for a book offer, or for the phone to ring with “Hollywood calling.” Who knows? With my dreams, maybe someday I could be as famous as James Joyce!

Patricia Cummings, http://www.quiltersmuse.com

Lately, I’ve noticed some signs, subtle though some of them may be, that quilting as a trend is taking a downswing. Within the past two days, I have received fabric or quilt supplies advertisements in the mail. Instead of the slick paper that shows off the wares to their best advantage, the catalogs are printed on the least expensive, newsprint type, paper one could buy.

I am noticing a lot less activity on quilt and needlework lists. I’m realizing that quilt shows that used to be held every year are now happening only every other year. Crochet and Knitting magazines dominate the newsstands. The shelves in major bookstores, once teaming with quilt titles have a mere fraction of their former book offerings. I could go on and on.

I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but it seems like the writing is (literally) on the wall. I’ve thought about this situation a bit and have come to a few conclusions.

The most obvious conclusion is that most quilters do not make quilts to keep the family warm. Therefore, quilting classes, the purchase of quilting supplies, quilt magazines, paid online memberships, quilt books, quilt trips, and anything else related to the hobby is in the category of “entertainment” in the family budget. The economy is not doing too well, at the moment.

When I began quilting, circa 1984/1985, the old standards were in place. With “practice,” anyone had a shot at being “good” at quilting – good enough to enter shows; good enough to win ribbons. Precise piecing was valued as was hand quilting.

Today, the bar has been raised. One has to have some tricks up one’s sleeves and know how to manipulate photography, discharge and dye fabrics, embellish until the cow’s come home, and be original with a capital “O.” Gone are the days of someone oohing and aahing over a simple Double Irish Chain Quilt. Those quilts are passé.

Art quilts of all types are “in.” However, can they sustain an industry that has traditionally depended on the common, everyday, Susie-Q housewife to keep the craft of quilting alive?

In the balance of things, it seems as though the ordinary quilter who buys the threads and the fabrics to make their everyday quilts are still at the heart and essence of quilt making. These women and men may rely only on their plied hand needle or between, not a long-arm machine with an automatic stitch regulator that they have had to remortgage the house to own, yet the old-fashioned methods make for the most dedicated quilters.

I am watching and waiting to see what other changes will be coming down the line. I’m afraid that those who think of quilting as Big Business, may in the long run, come up short, and sorely disappointed when the trend does not continue much longer. I hope I’m wrong. If someone has the inside track on all of this, I’d love to hear from you.

What I do hear is that demand for professional long arm quilting is very slow, and the request for appraisals has dropped considerably since before Christmas. I hear of formerly active professionals, in quilting, reporting being “burnt out,” and turning to other matters. These are worrisome signs, indeed, for those of us who love quilting and would like to see it continue to be promoted. Any thoughts?

Patricia Cummings, http://www.quiltersmuse.com

For a week now, I knew that I was scheduled for an eye doctor appointment this morning. While I was not particularly looking forward to the event, I was mentally prepared. Last night, I exclaimed, “Well, that’s odd! I never received a reminder call about the appointment tomorrow at 9 a.m.” Jim said, “Yes, they usually call, don’t they?” I retrieved the appointment card and set it on the kitchen table, determined to call them as soon as the office opened to ask if the early morning “date” was still on.

I arose early, washed my hair, and was in the process of getting ready. Mind you, it is 3 degrees above zero. I was not exactly looking forward to trekking out into the cold, but duty called. As usual, on cold days, I was bound and determined to layer clothes for warmth. I was half dressed when the voice of my beloved called out in a strange tone … “Patricia! Patricia!” I knew it wasn’t time for breakfast yet, as his feet had barely hit the floor boards.

Gleefully waving my appointment card, he proved that my appointment is really scheduled for next month, not this one. How did I mistake January for February? All I can say is that I am so tired of the cold, it must have just been “wishful thinking.” At least, for now, that’s my excuse and I’m stickin’ to it!

Patricia Cummings