Textiles are so commonplace, we often take them for granted. They are with us from cradle to grave, and they are used, often daily. Sometimes, it is not until something has been discarded that we realize its significance. Sometimes, it is not until we are more mature, that we can appreciate an object’s worth, in sentimental terms, or in consideration of what it may have meant to its maker.
Many times, pieces of history are lost or shuffled aside, either purposefully, or unknowingly.
Look around you. What textiles do you have in your possession that have meaning beyond the obvious? I’ll give you a couple of personal examples. I have a handkerchief that is soft from age and use, a gift from a kind woman fifty years ago, when I had Scarlet Fever and was only five years old.
I have some bandannas that I wore when I helped my Dad, on the farm, planting trees in his (part-time) nursery, or hoeing them. They evoke good memories of time spent with a man whom I adored. I have ribbon awards from showing my horse, and my chickens, and my houseplants, and flower arrangements, at the local fair, in the small town where I grew up. These items are small, would mean little to anyone else, but are irreplaceable to me.
What I don’t have are embroidered towels, made by my mother, that were used to the point of being disreputable – - and were “loved to death.” Full of holes and stained, they were thrown out, or recycled into the rag bag. She is not here to make more.
If I thought about it, and I try not to do so, I could probably come up with lots of examples of textiles I’ve discarded. That would include favorite clothes I gave away because I had no desire to store them, I’d outgrown them, or I saw no immediate need to keep them. I suppose that no one has room to keep everything that he/she will ever own. Yet, I wish that I had kept some things that I did not.
I wish I’d kept a brightly-colored skirt that my mother bought me, as a child. At the time, I refused to wear it as I thought it too bright and garish in its swirling, purple colors. As I look back on it, the skirt was so “50s,” it was a precursor to the “Age of Aquarius,” and it was youthful and artistic, even if it was purchased in the bargain basement of an upscale store.
I wish I’d kept a mini-skirt or two, or the bikini that I wore, while in high school. For one thing, they would both prove how thin I was, at the time. I doubt that I’ll ever see a size 10 or 12 again!
I wish I’d kept my wedding gown, and a beautiful maternity dress. I had made both items of apparel. Alas, I have a photo of the former, and the other is alive, in memory.
Textiles and quilts, particularly when they are the work of someone’s hands, can take on new meaning. For those of us who create quilts and other items, a good idea would be to keep a running diary of our thoughts, as we are creating a material object. If, or rather when, we are no longer here to share our thoughts, the journal could speak for us.
Although we do not realize it consciously, to any great extent, we are ever evolving, ever learning, and ever becoming. When you are called to the Great Blue Yonder, I hope that you will have left a few written words about your own work, and the significance (to you) of particular items that you have made.
“Art is long, life is short.”
You are still here! Celebrate, and enjoy the pleasure of creating something beautiful! And then, folks, document, document, document.
Marching onward,
Patricia
