The second book I recently found is already one of my favorites, the next thing on my to-do list. The book was still shrink-wrapped, so I wasn't sure what I was getting (looked a little outdated at first), but it just sang itself right off that shelf and into my cart! I shy away from 90's era froofy styles, but this book's timeless sort of contents is delightful. The author highlights 40 antique doll or crib quilts, and she also gives patterns for each one. I have a yen to get into more hand-quilting, and this book is perfect for that. I also like how "imperfect" those antique quilts look. The corners aren't always perfectly square, and the block arrangements are sometimes pleasantly askew. I find that very charming and authentic, filled with whimsy and child-like playfulness.
this short documentary. 15 minutes of soul! It really struck a chord with me, especially in light of this "slow-sewing" movement that has piqued my interest lately. The segment that highlights the Gee's Bend ladies' quilting bee made my own soul sing along with them. They sit around the quilt and quietly sing their songs, mournful, reflective, heavenly songs. Their friendship, simplicity, and earthy community lacks any pretense or competitive desire. It's not just about the quilt. It's about slow living, community, memories, and friends, not necessarily perfection.
All this brings me to question a few things about myself and the culture around me. How much should we and do we hold perfection up as our ultimate trophy of success? Have our modern machines and desire for "quick and easy" stolen a bit of soul out of our work? Can we walk away from mistakes? I see the thirst for perfection glaring at me in my own attitude. As one of my friends recently said, "Perfection is really hard work." Now there are surely times where perfection is the goal--obedience, for one. Our musical offerings. Our love for God and others. Those are things that will stay and grow forever, and we should strive for perfection there. But when it comes to things that won't stay--our clean houses, new clothes, shiny cars, making sure every stitch is in the perfectly right spot--maybe we should just slow down and enjoy the imperfections. Swim in forgiveness for things that need to be perfected, and enjoy the work of our hands, however flawed it may be.
Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.