Sunday, April 29, 2012
Years ago I made a Crazy Quilt throw. You know, the kind you see made of left over velvets, satins, jewel tone fabrics stitched by hand. That was before digital cameras and before I ever cared about taking pictures of the gifts I made. I did a lot of sewing and embroidery before I went to work full time in about 1976.
In recent years, I have wanted to learn new methods of crazy quilt. I love to see what you would call "eye candy", however, that style of CQ is not really what I would choose for myself.
This block is my first attempt at machine stitching a CQ block. I became disinterested as I worked on it. Put it aside. Re-organized my room. Picked the block up again. Super unhappy with it. Tear it apart? I thought about it. Then I REALLY looked at it. Looking for the flaws. There are a lot of flaws. Where are the solid fabrics? What was I thinking. The pieces are big chunks, especially that HUGE one one the right. Why didn't I apply the processes to this block that I had read about in several books. The only word I can use to describe it is CHAOS.
That got me to thinking about what was going on around me while I was attempting to start this project. The chaotic mess my room was in with too many items stored there to make room for the kids. The activity that was going on around me overwhelmed my desire to focus on the project. Many emotions were occupying my mind.
But I realized the block has purpose. The theme portrays that I was born in Chicago, though I haven't stitched the identifying features on the tower. My birth was definitely a chaotic time. Shortly afterward I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle because my mother was unable to care for me. So the chaos of the block portrays the chaos of my roots.
Nope, I'm not keeping this block. Much like I have learned to overcome the chaos in my life, I will learn to decently piece a crazy quilt block. Come back and see.