Amid revisions (never ending revisions….), I’ve been working on some floating squares projects. One is done, although a little differently than I originally pictured.
Or photographed; initially I thought it would be positioned as above. I had wanted to hang it along the same wall where my sewing table sits, but the piece is too wide for the space. Fortunately I could just place it on the adjacent wall, near my husband’s PC set-up.
Although that would make it difficult for me to see the quilt top from where I eat breakfast in the mornings, but such is life.
Such is life sometimes…. What if that quilt top was turned ninety degrees to the right? At some point yesterday I did just that, and found myself not only happier with the aesthetic result, but thrilled for how that wall hanging will fit right where I wanted it in the first place.
Not that I plan to put the additional project beside it; hard to enjoy one piece with another so close. But I am much more content with the piece on the right now that it’s been turned in that direction. One of the beauty’s of improv quilting; make that left turn at Albuquerque, and voila! A new facet, and placement, has been discovered.
Similarly, I’ve been feeling so blessed as I mull over The Hawk; post-it notes have been accumulating along the bottom of my computer monitor, reminding me of things I want to incorporate when the writing resumes. Finally yesterday I stuck all those scraps to a piece of binder paper, which sits on my immediate left here in the grotto. This room doubles as my writing cave and where fabrics are cut, ironed, then laid on the quilt wall.
I sew in the other room, gaining steps in between. And that’s good; steps are necessary in all junctures of life.
Steps, however, add up differently depending upon which task they are applied. Steps on my pedometer get counted at the end of the day, although I check periodically to see where I am on my usual hunt for 7K. Steps in sewing can be measured in the trek back and forth from the sewing machine to the ironing board, or in blocks gathering on the wall.
Steps in writing…. Hehehe, that’s a completely different kettle of fish, counted in myriad ways. Word by word in the actual creation of the story, or even before that in every researched fact. Then there are the edits…. But in that part, I’m finding deeper layers to this tale, not that it requires more layers, crikey! The post-it notes are breeding, bless their hearts, and as they do, I’m becoming more in touch with the whys and wherefores within this novel.
I suppose I could easily equate the quilt photos within this post to how a novel is written. If nothing else, the shots are bright, I have nothing to conceal in this aspect of my creative life. So much of noveling lies trapped in my gray matter so as not to spoil what has already been released, and to allow post-it notes to simmer. Yet, considering these relevatory ideas makes my fingers itch, my writing-brain aching to be put to work. Telling stories has been imperative in my life for coming on a decade, and having to sit on my hands when it comes to the words has been…. A lesson in patience, at the very least. It’s also been fruitful for the story, in all I have gleaned from the current manuscript. And in what has been eliminated; these edits aren’t only to familiarize myself with plot and characters, but to again whittle away what is unnecessary.
Sort of like turning that quilt top to the right, so it fits exactly where I want it to. Easier with wall hangings than books, I admit, but steps nonetheless. Now, if only my pedometer recorded all these alterations….