quiltersmuse.com Blog

Like it or not, the “hippies” of the “me” generation are aging. With our middle-aged looks and our graying hair, we have a certain common cultural literacy that is lost on people who are younger. Case in point, the other day, I mentioned the “Black pill” to a doctor who is very new to the profession. She is too young to know about “Mash” or to have made the connection. She said, “I could give you a red pill or a yellow one, but I don’t have any black ones.” She said it with such a straight face, I know that the reference was lost on her. Now, most anyone who ever watched the television show, “Mash,” would know that one of the characters was constantly wanting to give up and commit suicide, so he would say, “Doc, just give me the Black pill!” Everyone laughed. It was comic relief. We all understood what was meant. Like me, he was joking!

Another point of reference for the 1960s is Bob Dylan and his lyrics. The song, “The Times They Are A Changin’ ” and the song, “With God On Our Side” remain two of my favorite songs from the decade. Dylan has been called, “The Voice of a Generation,” a title he does not accept. In his mind, he just sang songs. He was not a spokesman for an entire generation, just himself. I can bet that he wrote music and sang because he had to, just like a quilter has to quilt, and a baker has to bake bread, and a writer … has to write! The artist in all of us will not be denied.

Dylan put into words what we “hippies” (or “straights”) could not. When I think today of all the obstructions to passing the current health care bill, Dylan’s words come to mind, – Get out of the way, if you can’t lend a hand – for the times, they are a’ changin’ -. When I think about our military involvements all over the world and our self-righteousness in meddling in state affairs of other nations, if our own interests are served, I think of the words “with God on our side.” Is He really? We are paying a price and that price is the loss of life, as is so painfully brought to our attention in the media, weekly.

Yes, the Vietnam War spawned its own group of social drop-outs, draft dodgers, and drug-popping individuals. We, that is, my generation, were young and innocent. Most of us had not yet made love. We were wet behind the ears! Many of us were students. I recall the midnight vigils at Thompson Hall at UNH, at which time students would stand before a crowd and take turns reading names from a long, long list of those young souls that had been killed in Vietnam, fighting for a war that none of us understood, no one wanted, and to this day, those who lived through the era, still do not fully fathom.

The point I would like you to take away is that built into the turmoil and the stress, young people were communicating within a vernacular of revived folk songs, and cultural understanding, even if that meant a reference to the “Black pill.” Language conveys understanding, but without common points of reference, we lose a chance to communicate.

One last thought: humor is severely-lacking today. We take ourselves far too seriously. This week, I hope that you will find something that makes you giggle, or chuckle, or slap your knee and emit a belly laugh from deep down inside. Certain situations in life require solemnity, but try to smile more. It’s contagious. Besides, this is your only chance. I’ve never seen a real skeleton grin.

Make it a great week!

Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications

Musician and quilter, Ricky Tims, is a man who is blessed with many talents! Well, known for his “Caveman Style Quilting” and “Rhapsody Quilts,” Ricky has just written, produced and recorded a Christmas CD, in Nashville, with other musicians. If you want to feel happy, view his YouTube video that shows beautiful and peaceful scenes of his adopted small town, La Veta, Colorado. The title of the CD is “Christmas in a Small Town.”

Some of the songs will sound familiar to you, but they have been arranged in a new way by Ricky, who also served as conductor for recording sessions. He has been playing piano since he was very young, and majored in music. According to what I read, when his home town in TX was hit by a tornado, his parent’s home was flattened and all of the songs he had written during high school were blown away by the wind.

We are happy that his musical career did not end there. We are equally cheered by Ricky’s enthusiasm for the process of quilting and for all of his teaching, not to mention his co-ownership of the online entity known as The Quilt Show. We wish him every success with this exciting new album. The song, “Christmas in a Small Town,” is a treasure! Enjoy the video, and then, please think about ordering the CD. (No affiliation).

Patricia & James Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications

This morning, a friend brought to my attention a new musical CD that combines both history and some of the finest arias ever written. The artist is Cecilia Bartoli. She has done extensive research about young men who were castrated so that there voices would remain “high” forever, for the sake of the art. In mid-18th century, she says in one interview, 4,000 boys, annually, underwent this procedure in Italy. She has written a “Castrato Compendium” to explain more about this trend, and that accompanies her just published CD. In Italian, the plural of castrato is castrati.

In the words of the artist:

“The age of the castratos was one of the most dazzling and remarkable in European music history. Seldom has there ever been such a complete fusion of sensuousness and splendor, form and content, poetry and music, and, above all, such a perfection of vocal virtuosity, as was achieved in the glory days of the Baroque era. The legendary art of the castratos continues to exert its fascination even today, and despite the great human sacrifice it exacted, a new assessment of this extraordinary period is surely justified.” – Cecilia Bartoli

The cover of the album presents the strong image that the artist intended: a female head and a male body. Bartoli has an exquisite and well-trained voice and seems to have been the right person to have achieved this kind of historical exploration. With her many abilities, she certainly appears to present a true depiction of the time period.

In addition, Anne Rice has written a novel that includes details about the castratos of Venice and Naples.

Patricia Cummings

Some of my favorite songs speak of the profound change of the seasons at this time of year. We leave “Summer winds make me feel fine, glowing like a jasmine in my mind,” and turn to Joni Mitchell’s lyrics, “The warriors of winter give a cold, triumphant shout, All that stays is dying, all that lives is getting out.” She also speaks of the trees, standing in a naked row, an image I enjoy.

In high school, my Glee Club sang, “The autumn leaves drift past my window, the autumn leaves of red and gold.” I am sure there are many other song tributes to autumn, a time period we all anticipate eagerly, here in New England, and a time that is too soon past. After Columbus Day, when the tourists have left the state, we can begin to anticipate heavy rains and winds that knock off any remaining leaves, and signal a change to cold nights in which the heat must be turned on.

The palette of verdant green of leaves and trees, and pastels of flowers, quickly turns to browns of decaying leaves underfoot in the forest, and then to the familiar gray and white and black colors of winter. The snow is like a white-out, at times. And, when it ends, there is a lovely peacefulness that seems to descend as from heaven itself.

A view of winter – photo by James Cummings

No wonder we eagerly await seed catalogs in January, a time that seems to be in the dead of winter and very far removed from outdoor blooming plants. “The farmer puts another “promise” in the ground,” are the words to another folk song.

At Christmas time, the holly and the ivy (also the name of a song) remind us of everlasting life, symbolically-speaking. These holly and its red berries retain their color throughout the winter months. Green represents eternity and Red can symbolize the loss of Christ’s blood on the cross. Colors can be so symbolic!

Autumn. So many changes are taking place. Animals that hibernate are searching out resting areas for the long winter. Bears will give birth in their dens, barely aware of what is happening. The “winter birds” such as the (gray) juncos and chickadees, will be heard and seen again, as will the woodpeckers who will make frequent trips to the suet hung again for them, from a lilac bush.

I have no quarrel with autumn or winter: they are seasons of introspection, a time to take stalk of one’s soul and one’s roots and to sort out again what is important in life. As a Christian, I have come to despise the commercialism and therefore, cheapening of a religious holiday, and so I dwell on my religious training as a child, and find those teachings more and more of a comfort in trying to make sense of an insane world. On Christmas, I tend to like to read Christmas stories and listen to music. With my family “gone,” taken away by death or indifference, my day is often spent in solitude, or with Jim, on holidays.

“I’ll stoke the fire with kindlin’, pull the blankets to my chin, I’ll keep the vagrant winter out and bolt my wanderings in.” – Joni Mitchell

Autumn and Winter – bring them on. I’ll be here, quilting, reading, writing, and loving my dear husband, who is as precious as a found jewel. Rejoice! The seasons are yet again changing, and life moves onward to its invisible, unforeseen, and inevitable conclusion.

Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications

The image seen here is the cover of a Joan Baez songbook with 66 songs, music, and notations. I somehow ended up with two copies and therefore, will accept “best offer” on this one, if anyone is interested. Write to: pat@quiltersmuse.com for details.

The 1960s: A Time of Turbulence/ A Time of Changing Music

When the fame of Joan Baez first hit, my oldest brother who was nine years older than me, bought her album with his own pocket money he earned by bagging groceries at a local grocery store. He was enamored of Joan’ beauty and her voice.

Shortly thereafter, he found a girlfriend who looked similar to her, with long black hair and brown eyes, slender of build. I felt it was not a coincidence.

Joan’s talents were God-given. What she did with those talents made history.

I have just been watching a summary of Joan’s life on Public Television. The documentary describes her as having a strong sense of right and wrong and acting accordingly. A sense of outrage about the “hideousness” (the murders, etc) of the Vietnam War, brought her to North Vietnam. The same sense of wanting the world’s people to “know that someone cares” sent her to Sarajevo where she sat in the middle of a street singing, “Amazing Grace.”

She felt that she might spend time in and out of prison for speaking out about such timely events of the day related to the draft and civil rights. She was thrown in jail a few times for civil disobedience. If people had a tenth of her gumption, much more social change might be happening today. Ah, but that is another story.

It is always fun to find out the end of someone’s life, or at least, the end thus far. To know that she married David Harris, but did not marry her great love, Bob Dylan, is a personal detail revealed in the film. Their marriage lasted from 1968-1973, during which Harris was mostly serving time in jail for being a draft protester. To know that she has a loving son, with whom she enjoys playing music, is another tidbit that speaks of her life as it is now. She is in her sixth decade of life.

I will always think of Joan Baez, Bob Dylan and others of their generation as forever young. With the sheer courage of youth, they told America what America needed to hear at a time America needed to listen to their messages. Baez states that she was a political activist first, a musician, second. Dylan provided some of her meaningful words, and she played the guitar, rounding out their team presence.

To me, the words of the title of one song she plays, “Diamonds and Rust” are meaningful. Diamonds are selected for their brilliance and longevity. The truth is as pure and clean and long-lasting as a diamond. Lies we tell ourselves or other people are like rust. They corrode relationships; they sully our happiness.

To me, Joan Baez is a true “American Master” who is a diamond. We will never forget her, or her spirit in the face of adversity, as she sought social justice and peace in the world and in her personal life.

Even now, she is a strong, beautiful woman, changed yes, but one whose inner beauty still shines through in a quiet, reflective way of one who has led a full life.

I loved the PBS station’s TV special and this very intimate glimpse into the hardships and challenges that helped to shape the artist, Joan Baez, whom we continue to appreciate today.

Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications