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She collected everything that was inside her.......

Her thoughts and dreams and fears were too big
to be contained within the small neat boundaries
of a traditional block, her life too strange and unique
to be represented by the repetition of the same pattern. 
She collected everything that was inside her ----- 

all the thwarted love, 
the rage, 
the anger, 
the fear, 
the uncertainty ----
and cast it upon her quilts like paint upon a fence.  She would let it spill over the edges, collect in pools on the ground, soak into the earth. She could not be contained.
 This quite incredible passage is taken from the new book by Jennifer Chiaverini entitled, The Lost  Quilter, the most recent in the Elm Creek Quilts series (Simon and Schuster, 2009).  The words relate to the central character in the book, Joanna, a fugitive slave who traveled the Underground Railroad to read safe haven.

I just finished The Lost Quilter this week.
I recommend it highly:
a good storyteller.
a good read.


Petrus Spronk said...

A strong and emotional poem which reminded me of the first ever quilts I saw. an exhibition of them in America. I was strangely moved by them and stayed for hours in the space. The poem goes some way in explaining my fascination with the quilt artform. each quilt a different and moving story......

T said...

Beautiful, deep expression through the the quilt. Might have to find this book. Thanks Pat.

Deborah said...

I read this one recently and thought it was one of the best of her books.

AeFondKis said...

strong evocative poem, creates strong images to inspire by!

Terri Kahrs said...

Fascinating post, Pat. This is how I feel when I create my collages - the color seems to spill out of my heart onto my canvases. I imagine many artisans feel this way about their work; however, this excerpt brilliantly explains it all. Thanks for stopping by my blog and thanks for your lovely comment! Hugs, Terri

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