a secret + a rainbow
This month I have been keeping a secret. Or really, it’s been longer than that. Certainly my marriage has been dying a long, slow death of many months and years. For a long while the edges of that growing reality were soft and slippery until their form became a solid thing that could not be denied. In February we were able to admit out loud that we did not love each other any more, that we wouldn’t choose each other any more. Therapy only made the situation more painfully and powerfully clear. On May 2nd I told my husband of 22 years that I was ready to let go, done trying, finished. It was a sad but powerful moment. It took strength and kindness and peace of mind, which I could feel from my toes to my finger tips and beyond.
I woke up the next morning feeling lighter and more alive than I can remember.
This May the ground has been shifting under our feet, as all the dear people in my home scramble to rediscover their footing. I had hoped that we could still live together as a family, in separate rooms, but that was just a dream. On mother’s day Brandon decided to move out, packed some things and left. And although the day was incredibly painful for my children, the clarity in its wake creates room for life and healing.
Well, there you have it. My dirty secret or perhaps my shiny, brave jewel.
I have started listening to music again. I am allowing it to crack open my heart and speak deeply to and for me. I wept when I heard this song for the first time the day after Brandon left. It’s called Rainbow by Kasey Musgrove. Please do listen.
Every life has storms. Some you grow so accustomed to that you can’t imagine any other way. When you find yourself suddenly standing under an open sky, the intense relief that wells up is enough to give you wings. But it’s more than that. It’s the rainbows. Somehow there really always is a rainbow hanging over my head. I am one of the lucky ones. Even at such a moment as this, my life is intensely sweet.
I had already planned to make this quilt, but I didn’t know what it would mean to me. The Tilda Peacock solid background is like a stormy sky and soon there will be a whole rainbow floating over my head. In the first iteration I arranged the pink and red pluses by value, with darker values at the right side (which would eventually be the quite center). The effect was too muddled. The second iteration has a scattered value arrangement and more peacock background squares to let the shapes breathe. Yesterday I added some peach and orange shades, and sketched the circular rainbow connection that would become the quilt center. Better.
When I awoke this morning I knew that I need to start fresh. I will begin again in the center of my design wall and start at the center of the quilt. I will create a dark peacock center and use more background squares throughout the work so that the plus shapes are more defined.
I am trusting that this new journey is going to be beautiful, and I am eager to get started.
Choosing for color, choosing for beauty, choosing for me. My heart like bright pink confetti, feminine and strong.
I was feeling uneasy and stifled on January first when I sat down to sketch a new quilt. Art is a safe and peaceful way to free yourself; so, I could have sketched something wildly expressive. What actually came out on my paper was the very picture of inhibition - pretty, symmetrical, contained.
The shape of our life is never set in stone. The things that you take for granted, good and bad, can evaporate like a mist. What I surely have observed in my years on this earth is that life can always, always surprise you. That doesn’t feel like a threat to me, rather more of a curiosity and a promise. Like a book that you want to keep reading, or better, like a story that you are making up as you go.
Four years of Ice Cream Soda. Really, four and a half (but who’s counting)? A look back at all the places this quilt has taken me from South Carolina, to the train and plane to The Netherlands, all over Europe and now to Floris. Each time I joined another row together, he would marvel. I would have relished seeing the blocks come together anyway, but there’s nothing like love to give your needle wings.
It is very nice about improv that you can end at what seems like the intended destination, even if you usually did not know where you were going along the way. Is life like that too, I wonder? I think we mostly make it so, for our peace of mind.
This month I have been keeping a secret. Or really, it’s been longer than that. Certainly my marriage has been dying a long, slow death of many months and years. For a long while the edges of that growing reality were soft and slippery until their form became a solid thing that could not be denied.
Recently I came across a post called Anomaly, which I wrote when I last sewed an Ikat quilt. It was during that peculiar year (2018) during which my family was quietly researching possibilities for a permanent move abroad. Freshened with the benefit of (then private) background info and hindsight, I think you’ll enjoy this flashback post!
Ugh, I’ve been feeling so indecisive lately! This tends to happen when I’m caught between what I think I should do for my business and what is comfortable for me as a person. Between head and heart.
2020 has been quite a year. Have you considered working those feelings out in cloth? If you are a maker, you have a unique opportunity to use art to process big emotions. I know from experience that this can be so healing.
This month I celebrate a decade of blogging at Stitched in Color. Wow! Join me for a snapshot review of each year, including my favorite quilts, important milestones, family moments and happenings in our community.
Here we are on the cusp of a new decade. If I look over my shoulder, I can see the last ten years falling away behind me. It’s all a bit overwhelming, no? And yet there is something wise in taking the time to gather ourselves before plunging ahead.
A leader or a follower? I ponder the two opposing roles as I watch Elora play at our neighborhood playground. If I’m honest, her propensity to observe, bide her time and stand apart from the crowd can make me uncomfortable.
Have you ever experienced a paradigm shift, where mentally a door opens, a concept transforms from “not an option” to “maybe” and your mind sort of lurches to land on a new horizon of possibility?
As 2018 rushes to a close, I have such a sense of excitement for the next chapter in our story. To turn that happy restlessness into something productive, I’ve invited myself to dream a little dream of what I might stitch up in 2019…
There are moments when you look back on a decision made, a path you took once upon a time, with awed gratitude. Ten years ago we decided..
The other day Liam pointed to the peach square at the bottom edge of this block and asked, "Why did you put this here?"
Today I want to unpack the question of where our fabrics are made and the ethical ramifications for the hobbyist quilter. I will be focusing on designer quilting cottons...
I've been thinking about political/economic issues a lot this year, more than usual. About Climate change. Sustainability. Unfair labor practices. And from where I stand they're all tied together.
Starting a new quilt always feels like a gift. Choosing a pattern, selecting colors and fabrics, cutting into the cloth - these fresh possibilities create a sense of energy and even adventure.
Sometimes l become heavy with comparison. Social media floods my eyes and heart with the stunning accomplishments of others. Someone else is always doing something...
Some color transitions, like life transitions, come easily. I have just the right colors in my fabric stash, as with this orange-yellow-green blend. Familiar territory. These are the life transitions that one has made before and can comfortably make again. How many times have I separated green-blues from true-blues? How many times have I packed and moved house?