The Diva firmly believes she can learn to do anything in the span of roughly five minutes and without benefit of instruction, a trait that is by turns charming and frustrating. Mostly frustrating. I’m not sure where she got her impatience gene, but I blame Himself. Ahem…
Several months back, she decided she really wanted to learn to sew and consequently commandeered Lennie the Featherweight and proceeded to sew seams crookeder (yes, that’s a word) than a Chicago politician (not that I’m naming names). She’d been at it about, oh, five minutes, when she asked the difference between ‘modern’ and ‘traditional’ quilting. Mind you, this is a topic that makes me squeamish. Can’t we just all be quilters and leave it at that? Can’t we all just get along?! Apparently not, as she plunked herself down and proceeded to thumb through my rather impressive library of quilting books. After about, oh, five minutes (can you sense a theme here?) she proclaimed herself a ‘modern’ quilter and said she needed to search out some inspiration.
Oh-bee-kay-bee. (That’s a word, too. Just ask Bill Cosby).
What did she have in mind? Why, we had to immediately jump in the car and head out in search of her muse, of course! Couldn’t we just walk around the block, thereby saving atrociously expensive fossil fuel and making the tree-huggers happy? Duh, of course not! Everyone knows you can’t find inspiration unless you’re flying past it at 60 mph. Consider me schooled.
I’m fairly certain she expected me to drive over the river and through the woods, but I knew without a doubt that this kid’s attention span is about as long as some men’s…what a minute, that’s dirty. Um, her attention span is really short. So, I drove us into downtown Podunk and called it good. This is what we came up with as ‘inspiring’ for future works of art. I was given strict instructions to point my camera and shoot…forget about asking ‘why’.
I’m fairly certain there’s a technical term for that rosette thingamabob up there, but it escapes me at the moment. And we really like the decorative molding.
I’m from a small town and generally find them charming, but it’s funny how you forget that small-town folks are a wee mite suspicious of outsiders (never mind the fact we’ve lived here almost 14 years) and you really get the stink-eye for taking pictures. Don’t worry folks, it’s just fat under this jacket not a bomb!
Did she go home and sketch out any ideas? No. Has she touched the machine since? No.
We have, however, gone on yet another idea-gathering jaunt…this time on foot because I’m cheap and needed the exercise. Oh, who am I kidding? I figured if I walked and walked and walked, it’d tire her out and she’d be ready for bed early. Satisfied?
It didn’t work (the sleepy part) but
we I got more pictures…
For graphic-art type quilts…
I no longer ask ‘why’; it’s simply a matter of ‘why not’ in her book. She’s the director; I schlep the equipment.