Making a t-shirt quilt is quickly becoming more complicated than I anticipated. I don't think it takes a lot of skill - not in the artisan sense of the word. My problem is not with the seams or the cutting - all of that is rather simple. The problem is that I 'm making it for someone else. And that someone happens to be out of town at the moment. Which means that I have to choose which shirts to include and which to leave out. I suppose it will be difficult not to sound melodramatic at this point, ascribing as much worth or significance to the art of cutting fabric and sewing it back together, but I can't help but feeling like each shirt encapsulates some memory, some phase, some moment, and have been worn through so many others. And here I am cutting them up and trying to make them look aesthetically pleasing.
In the past 6 years, I've lived in 7 different places that each have their own hold on me. My best friend just called me and told me she was going to have a baby. I call my mom and she gives me the details of my brother's day to day lives. A few of my friends live in the Pilsen neighborhood of Chicago, and every time I go visit them the sandbags I've been building up for the past month to keep the human race at bay disintegrate.
I wonder when life will stop feeling like a t-shirt quilt.
1 comment:
mmmmm. baby k!!!
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