There is a distinct difference, for this blanket can be used for much of the year, and if one goes camping, as the theme subtly suggests, then it will be a year-round quilt. I love not camping, but I think my nephew, the eventual recipient, might have more affection for that outdoor pastime.
It’s definitely autumn now, not that we’ve had rain, but cooler, shorter days are the norm. I’ve been up to my ears in machine quilting and hand-binding, so it was lovely to throw squares on the quilt wall, seeing what developed. It hearkens to writing, which is just around the corner, in that arranging squares feels like fabricating (hehehe) storylines. I just started revisions on the last section of The Hawk, and if all goes relatively well, I’ll dive back into the telling of that tale come October.
(Oh my goodness, that’s pretty darn amazing, let me just say. It’s as if The End waits on the horizon like the city of Oz. I just have to negotiate a rather overgrown field of poppies to reach it.)
Ahem, back to sewing…. But truthfully I don’t separate my passions all that much. One requires a certain level of cerebral concentration, the other provides an outlet for less fettered machinations. Together they bring to my life a gorgeous cohesiveness, words and fibres making up the tapestry of my being. I give away sewn treasures like I hand over novels, or novels-in-progress. Very few of these creations are for me to keep; they do little good piling up on my sofa or in a hard drive.
And perhaps that’s the best part of artistry. Giving is far better than receiving, be it comfort under a quilt or empathy within a story. A few other Christmas-themed projects await my attention, but once I start writing, The Hawk will possess my main focus. About all I will be good for is machine quilting, hand-binding, or some hand-quilting if there’s time. Yet time will emerge for all these wonders to occur. I simply need to keep the faith, have another cuppa, and let the blessings flow. That’s all this life is truly about.