A friend told me the story of carefully and patiently explaining to a young girl what it was that she did for a living..she told her of selecting fabrics and patterns, stitching and quilting and binding all in loving detail. At the end of explanation the young girl gave it a few moment’s consideration and said.. “So, I get it, you make blankets for a living”
I am a blanket maker. Sometimes they are exquisite creations that will never grace a bed, ethereal finery that is more art than utility. Sometimes they are hardscrabble, serged together cast-offs made to line the kennels of abandoned dogs and cats looking for new homes through the bars that separate them from the people looking for their next pet.
And sometimes they land in-between. A creation of love and time and the resignation that my work no matter how complex or simple might land on a bed or a sofa, or be thrown in the back of a jeep and taken on picnic or used to comfort a failing family pet. And that has to be alright for me to create joyfully. For while many get their knickers in a fine twist when their quilts are called blankets I feel no shame or insult for what I do is important but it is not IMPORTANT.
My art is frippery by the grace of my right to create but for it not to really matter. For when it comes right down to it I don’t want the weight of the world to rest nestled between my stitches. I want to create with abandon and without pressure of of being IMPORTANT and serious.
Quilting often trades on the self importance of itself in order to justify what we do {I am a Quilter}, how we spend our money ( I buy important things because I am a Quilter} and our time .
Do not get me wrong, creative expression is near and dear to my soul but we need no justification to make beauty or utility. It is not WHAT we make that is important, it is THAT we make at all that matters. There is not a person who is not creative in some way, true that they might not have connected with it yet and might be running from it for reasons particular to their own story, but each of us has it within us to create.
Embracing our genius, our muse, our divine is a gift that should never be relegated to the few. We are not better with just a few precious artists who feel that they can rightly pull on the cloak and pin on the badge that reads ARTIST. We need to be giving those badges out willy-nilly to those who take the chance to expose that tender bit of their heart, the true underbelly of their soul to the world through their work.
No matter if their art is clay or glass or blanket making.
