The Leatherman of Fiber Arts

 
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Part of what perpetually draws me to quilting is that there is utility both in the finished piece and in the making.

As you can see, I sometimes make quilts in pairs. The larger top comes first- usually there is a bit (or a lot) of a plan and a specific shape to cut and a pre-determined amount of fabric needed. Those bigger pieces are made with the intention of being a blanket- for warmth, comfort, beauty. Their utility arrives when the last stitch goes in. With the orange quilt top (I'm calling it Calendula) I cut more squares than I needed because I wanted flexibility in pairing patterns (trying to avoid too much plaid on plaid, you know). The leftovers were too small and too few for a quilt to wrap around a body, so the utility of the second quilt (Windy Moraine) switched from blanket to scrap-vessel- a different but crucial role in my quilt practice. It is in those pieces that I get to experiment most wildly- pair a stitch with a fabric that I was curious about... punch holes with a rivet press. This is where I use up small pieces of batting, pieced together inside where no one will know (well, now you know!). These smaller quilts are both fed by my larger quilts and also nurture ideas and skill that feeds back into bigger pieces.

With When Doves Cry I had already made a quilt top that involved cutting long rectangles out of some really amorphous scraps of fabric. That left me with a lot of half blobs- bits with one rounded side and one straight side. Lots of little strips in my favorite colors. With quilts like this one the shapes determine the composition and I am just there to strong-arm it in a direction that my eyes like. I am always amazed at the puzzle of it. A big bag of scraps and a few hours of meditative stitching and then all of those disconnected cast offs become one whole and beautiful piece. I'm not sure how to describe it- but there is something otherworldly about the process. 

Grace Rother