Going all in

I am currently re-re-reading a book by poet and writer, Ross Gay, called The Book of Delights (Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill). In it is a delight-ful essay called “Beast Mode,” in which a bellhop friend of his at a hotel he has been staying in recites a Lady Macbeth monologue. When asked by Gay why he chose the particular monologue he did, the bellhop gave him ‘a mini lecture on ambition, getting things done, having vision.’ The bellhop explains that he wants someone who’s all in, who can go beast mode’ in a partner.

 

I love this one paragraph essay because frequently, I am a woman in beast mode (though not always in a good way) and maybe it feels a little like I’ve been seen and heard. My husband, mild-mannered as he is, frequents beast mode as well; he’s all in whether it’s serenading me with Frank Sinatra love songs or doing the dinner dishes.

 

When I piece quilts, I do so with all I’ve got. From the initial concepts to the binding and almost everything in between, I love it all. I love every minute of it except the quilting which is done when all three layers are put together and stitched.  You could say I go “all in” on detesting this part of the process. Perhaps detest is too strong a word? Perhaps. I go all in on paying someone else to do it for me (currently this lovely person is @Meganhsorn of @imaginethatnmore). She does a perfectly great job of transitioning my quilts from a pieced work to a masterpiece.

 

I have stopped making myself feel inadequate because I am averse to the quilting phase of my projects. Because of an old back injury, I can’t tolerate the posture that quilting demands of me. I also can’t tolerate the mental gymnastics it takes to actually do the stitching. I’m not talking about computerized stitching; that I can handle. It’s the free motion type stitching that requires a creativity and hand-eye coordination that I, admittedly, lack these days.

 

In a second essay called “Infinity” from the same book, Gay speaks of ‘the mysterious tender touchings’ that he uses to describe a scarf handmade by a friend so lovingly and which represents a softness to which I think he is still getting accustomed.  I hope that even though my quilts may not be absolutely and totally completed by me alone, people who receive them will be guilty of the same ‘mysterious tender touchings’ and that they will hold them in their arms, wrap them lovingly around themselves, and sink into the love with which they were made. 

 

If you are so inclined, and I almost always am, I highly recommend maintaining a journal as you create your quilts.  Immerse yourself in the events and emotions that come along with a project like a traditional or art quilt. And write it down. The stories of our quilts need to be told so that they can be appreciated even more than they already are.  And if you need a little inspiration to get you going, you can pick up The Story of Your Quilt, a journal I put together for quilters of all levels, meant to be gifted along with your quilts. You won’t be sorry you’ve saved your story!

Previous
Previous

Like the branches of a tree…

Next
Next

WHEN LIFE ECLIPSES YOUR YOUR FUN