I've given up calling it anything else. Seven Brides is an obsession, a project that feels like it's taking forever to finish and yet I can't let go of. I don't write that statement out of complaint, but instead mingled fascination, and gratitude. 

Unsurprisingly, several people reached out to me to say HEY NEW PENTAGON AMY, DID YOU SEE? I love you. You know me well. 

There are two kinds of people fascinated with the idea of finding shapes that can fill a two-dimensional plane: geometry professors, and quilters. What's weird, and sad, is that they aren't really talking to each other. I've corresponded with a few of them, and as far as I can tell, there are quite a few mathematicians who are working on these problems, but the number of quilters playing with the end results likely can be numbered on my fingers and toes.

Hi, I need a name. (But not a home.)

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.

It does not have a home.