I’ve been thinking about chaos, and quilting; about the interplay between light and dark. The moving boxes are part of the chaos, and I hope to set some of that right this weekend. It’s finally cooled down, and the holy rain has blessed us with a few showers.
I’ve got my dark patches, as do we all. The job hunting is not a bright spot, and I find the interviews stressful. As I write this I am stuck in a clinic waiting room, marooned on the ugly chairs until the lab people come back from lunch. These are the less pleasant pieces of fabric in my quilt, the squares where the pattern is slightly off, the colors a bit muted.
On the other hand, I have lots of bright squares, and that’s what really matters. One looks at the whole quilt, not at the disassembled pieces. Mine is bursting with color. Over there in the corner you’ll see a cheerful splash to commemorate my first sighting of the famous Northwest snails. I haven’t gardened in Seattle, so I don’t get up close and personal with a lot of soil. Yesterday a rock caught my attention while I was walking to a friend’s house. This rock was in a raised flower bed, and when I looked closer I noticed its head and its companion’s head. Two lovely snails sat there on a stick, and I admired them. They were quite a bit larger than I’d expected they’d be.
I’m also enjoying the sailors who are suddenly showing up all over the downtown, dressed in their white navy uniforms. They remind me of the movie Anchors Aweigh with Gene Kelly. If they start dancing in the streets, I’ll be sure to tell you. I feel grateful to have seen them.
I’ve been reading a lot, as always, and that adds more pretty threads to the overall pattern. My friend Laurie just recommended Claiming Georgia Tate by Gigi Amateau. I loved it. It was well-written, a feast both savory and sweet. I could taste the carefully-iced watermelon as I read about it, and I fell in love with her characters. The best thing about the book, though, is its message of joy. I am a joy-seeking creature myself, and it’s seen me through a lot. I know this, too—contrast is beautiful. The dark spots in any artwork really make the colors pop. All is right with the world.
Your assignment, should you choose to accept it:
150. Find and read Claiming Georgia Tate by Gigi Amateau. How do you get through times of difficulty? Are there some bright patches amidst the struggle?