Friday, April 2, 2010

But it would be organic goat poop, because I'm thoughtful that way

After the quilt debacle that became a performance art installation, I decided to hold off on that particular project for a wee bit and tackle the next gift quilt I have on my list. An old friend popped back into my life about a week or so before I left to go see my brother, and during the time that we have been estranged, she had a baby girl, who is about 8 months old now. I had longed to make a baby quilt for her but that might have involved some uncomfortable talking and sharing and growing as a human being, which just wasn't what I was into at the time. It was far easier to remain distant, something I am quite good at.

But she reached out and we have been corresponding quite civilly, and so eventually I asked if she would have any objections to receiving a quilt for the baby. Because I have learned my lesson, people. ASK FIRST. She said that they would cherish a quilt, and for a minute I went, "Shit. I was hoping she'd say no." Because now I have to put out, and what if this turns into another fabric massacre and I have nothing to give her except some burned scraps covered in goat excrement? That would kinda suck.

And when I get this uptight about making something, I can't settle on a pattern. I had a pattern I thought I was going to use, but then I read it, and it said that it worked best for fabric that had small motifs or patterns, and of course what I picked does not. If I were a more confident quilter, I could have said, fuck it, Imma do it anyway, but I am not a confident quilter AT ALL. I'm a highly insecure quilter who needs lots of hand holding and back patting and comforting, unhealthy snacks just to make it through a day.

Eventually, I couldn't stand the fabric just sitting there, so I started hacking at it and made it into a bunch of large and small squares, and I'm just going to hope that something good comes out of it by accident. It can't be any worse than the nasty glops you can still see dotting interstate 97 at the Rte. 100 overpass