Redwork quilts

 About a week prior to seeing Kevin Burns quilts, 

I added one to my own collection as well;

a wonderful example of "redwork" -

which exactly describes what it is -

simple designs worked with red thread upon a white background.

This latest quilt has some unusual depictions of animals

which I found particularly appealing.

It helped make up for the fact that the 'white' background was a dingy yellow/brown

that required 2 days worth of soaking in pre-wash to remove.

The 'birds' were fairly commonplace -

ones I've seen before.

There were flowers which are also a common theme.

The squares, including animals not usually included, 

as well as 'scenes' were the ones I found so delightful.

It might never be in a museum display,

but I love it

and am glad it's being enjoyed again.

And, at only $15.00,

I doubt Ken ever got such a bargain!

Sobering realities

Two recent articles caught my attention.

 

One stated that life expectancy for adults in America has dropped;

the average age at time of death is now 76. 

The other article revealed that, on average, an adult child sees his parents twice a year.

(Maybe the male gendered reference was telling).

I know this must be hard to believe for those of you among my friends

who speak to their mothers every day,

see them several times a week

and consider them your best friends.

 

You all are balancing out those, 

like my own siblings,

who, at the time of her death,

hadn't seen my mother for 7 and 9 years respectively.

I guess my reaction to these articles was a profound 

"Oh shit".

 

I'm 73.

If I'm average 

(which of course I'm not and will deny being until my last breath)

I have 3 years of living left.

 

Roughly translated, I may have 6 more times of seeing my son

the artist who lives in New Mexico.

 I'm lucky enough to have one son closer by 

and I see him and his family several times a month.

But still, these numbers gave me pause.

What do I want the son I see less frequently 

to know about me,

my life 

and our life together

in 6 more visits?

 

What am I leaving unsaid, unexpressed and unaddressed?

More importantly, what does HE want/need to know - if anything.

Time feels like it's racing by already -

this just gives it extra momentum.

 

Just something to ponder at 2am when you can't sleep.

 

You're welcome.

 

Ken Burn quilts and a missed opportunity

 I am a quilt lover -

although not a creator -

 much to my mothers dismay, 

since she was an avid quilter.

 

I've admired and collected quilts all my adult life

and have given away, or re-homed, more than I've kept. 

Their beauty, as well as their functionality, speaks to something deep within me;

the fact that the majority of them were made by ordinary women speaks to me as well.

Women who after the daily, routine chores of their lives were done 

(at least for a particular day; we all know it's never completely done)

took scraps to create something of beauty; 

something that would endure

as well as provide warmth and comfort for people they loved.

The majority of quilts are without attribution, especially older ones,

unless it was a friendship quilt

and then a woman was surrounded by the names of her friends as well. 

Women apparently don't have a strong need to plaster their names on the things they create.

I recently became aware of an exhibit

featuring pieces from the personal quilt collection of Ken Burns, 

the well known documentarian.

 

The exhibit runs until June 5th at the Peoria Riverfront Museum,

just a few hours drive from my house.

It wasn't hard to convince a friend to take a day trip with me to see it.

 

It's a stunning collection.

   Despite the age of several of the quilts, 

there's a surprisingly contemporary feel to many of them

and to be able to see so closely the exquisite handiwork

was as inspiring as it was daunting.

Interspersed throughout the exhibit were quotes from Ken Burns 

revealing his feelings about his collection and what he found compelling.

What was breathtaking - by its absence -

was any reference to the fact that these were pieces of art MADE BY WOMEN.

"They represent a big story, a great story... each face as nondescript, as ordinary ..."

 

Women's faces, 

women's talents rendered invisible and their identities kept anonymous

by a choice not to mention them.

"These made things, the art..."

 were the domain of women

and by his very neglect of acknowledging a gendered reference

as to who created these pieces,

he perpetuated the patriarchal perception of their insignificance.

This oversight from such a talented historian and gifted individual was terribly disappointing.

It's hard to believe it was something he overlooked.

Harder still to think he considered it - and then dismissed it.

 

I get it.

It's a personal collection.

We love the things we love

and I'm glad these works of art have been saved, enjoyed and treasured.

I don't expect him to have done a search 

for the provenance of each quilt as though it was for his next film;

but, come on Ken...

an appreciation of the creativity, talent and art

MADE BY THE HANDS OF WOMEN

was certainly worthy of getting a passing acknowledgment.

 

Maybe the small pieces of wall art as we entered the parking garage

wasn't an installation as much as a reflection

of the attitude we'd see inside.