Over the weekend I was pondering the meaning of art. My MIL used to say, “I don’t really understand your quilts, dear, but they are very pretty.” I was never really quite sure how to take that!
She was an excellent quilter and made many beautiful quilts over the years, most of which she hand-quilted, but she always followed a pattern. Meticulously! I have copies of patterns that we worked on together, and her notes were really a wonder to behold. Looking back at 2020, I wonder if she would perhaps now see a bit of what’s in my head and what I’m expressing in my art? Alas, she has passed on, but I often think of her when I’m sewing, especially since I often make decisions in a completely intuitive manner.
Last week was very productive, and I’m forging ahead with what I think, hope, and pray will be a pretty cool statement of “CHAOS” without using any words to describe what it feels like…
I’m getting a pretty good sense of what the final work will look like – and there are those who will love it, and those who will hate it! Isn’t getting pushed out of our comfort zones what art should instigate?