Quilt No. 92
March 2013
I agreed to do a
demonstration at our quilt guild on how to create a pattern suitable for
appliqué. This was sure to be the
proverbial piece of cake. I always have
a couple of quilts of this type in various states of completion. It would be a simple matter of collecting up
all the constituent bits when the time came.
And that time was somewhere in the very
distant future.
Fall and Christmas
ripped by like an uncaring tornado.
January, living up to its reputation with white and bitter cold, loomed
up on the schedule. Abruptly, it was
less than two weeks until I was to do the demo.
My quilts usually
involve scaling up my art work or existing drawings or photos into a pattern
that I can then use to make the various shapes for the quilt. I start with a drawing of a cactus, and I end
up with a cactus on a quilt. Plenty of
stuff happens in between those two points. This is tedious work, suitable only for the
not-easily-bored. It involves creating
line drawings, and transferring these onto acetate sheets, then onto freezer
paper. Ultimately it yields the pieces that
are sewn onto the background.
There’s always plenty
of all those items basking on my quilt table.
Who could have ever predicted that my demonstration prep would fail to
coincide with an in-progress quilt? When
have I ever had all quilts completed?
Never before had this situation occurred. I can only surmise that some sort of
conjunction of the quilting planets had aligned to conspire against me. I was finished every quilt.
A new project would
have to be started, but I didn’t have enough time to jump into a major quilt. I needed a minor quilt. A cute frog
would do. But I had to hurry. And I had to break down my process into steps
I could describe, something I’d never before intellectualized. I usually just
work in wordless surge of creation. This was more like deconstructing a recipe
- taking the cake apart and coming up with the flour, eggs, and milk that were
the starting point.
And so I picked a smiling
red-eyed tree frog, taken from a calendar.
There was no time to get too original!
Whipping through my preparations, I realized that it had to be not so
much a cute frog as an acute frog – according to medical
terminology – “brief and severe”. This
episode was definitely that and the usual chronic process – “long and dragged
out”– was a null option.