I have a room in the basement where I have my sewing machine, my fabrics and all my quilting stuff. I could have moved it all up in my studio to get more light and more space, but up here it will compete with too many other things - laptop, stationary, travelbooks, papercrafts, altered book stuff and alot more, so for the time being the basement studio will have to do.
I went down there yesterday, opening baskets and closets, every step taking me further down memory lane. The quilt I made for Torgeir's confirmation, the first quilt I ever made, a round robin I did with a group of friends, another one made just between me and Annet in The Netherlands, a doll quilt, fabric sent me by Kathy in IL or by Elizabeth in SD, buttons saved from grandmother Olga's collection, miniature scissors bought on the street in Asmara,Eritrea, timbles collected from travels around the world.
The day passed quickly, and when night came and Terje and I sat down after cleaning the diningroom and the kitchen, sharing memories from a night with 10 around the pizza table, I hadn't sewn a stich.
There is no rush with my quilting. I have enough quilts anyway for a lifetime. I can sew today or I can keep on putting best fot forward further down memory lane. The quilt I have been handquilting over the past 10 years or so, is at the cottage and we have no plans of going there untill winter break in February. There are dozens of other tops waiting to be handquilted, more waiting to be pieced together. I have all the time I want. The goal is never the finished product. The goal is the prosess. The fulfillment of creating. The joy of playing with textures, fibres and colours. Everyday pleasures. Artists are blessed. Creating gives our living a purpose.
Photos: my studio desk this morning, The Blue Room up on the first floor, where I have gathered a few of my quilting supplies. It is time to start making the first stich.