I’ve taken the rest of the week off of work in a fit of “oh crap I will be on the road for HOW long? and what can I finish if I focus on nothing but sewing for a week?”
We’re gonna need a montage. I realize that a movie about quilting can only go in either the “Beautiful Mind” (crazed genius throws fabric about long enough that amazing things happen) vein or the “Waiting For Godot” vein (audience sits around, waiting for the explosions and car chases that never happen) vein.
This very low-contrast quilt top was actually the second one I ever worked on, but I put it aside and did not finish it at the time. I pulled it out this week and decided that it deserves to be loved and used, despite its imperfections, and that I should finish it and give it away.
It will be my 42nd completed quilt, and as such it deserves a good Hitchhiker’s name. Current thoughts are “Mostly Harmless” or “Hyperspace Bypass,” but I’m open to other appropriate names.
As I tidied up the entry for Fuego, since I put it in the mail today, I looked over the quilt list for the year and was a little disheartened, because I felt like I haven’t accomplished much this year. It’s also entirely possible that I’m an idiot.
The story: I was fabric-hunting in the Petticoat Lane district in London, where there’s a street of nothing but African fabric shops one after another, selling 6-yard lengths of what’s variably called “dutch wax fabric,” “african wax fabric,” etc. The marketplace looks like this, with racks and racks of clothing available for sale out in the street, and wax fabric storefronts on both sides of the street: