{a pause}

I don’t think anybody will ever know the stupid blind faith that is required to make a large quilt like this.  Hours spent dyeing fabric in a multitude of colors… piecing and sewing… and now the quilting,  is done so only because I hope that someday something worthwhile may come of it.  There is no guarantee.  This may have all been a mistake.

I don’t think anybody can fully appreciate the hours of solitude one must endure to create something like this.  Alone in my studio, I spend my time yearning and grasping for goodness, only to have it allude me just inches beyond my reach.

I don’t think anybody will ever understand exactly how I feel about these quilts.  Surely I am proud and pleased about many of them yet at the same time I am so totally ready to give them up… let them go.  How is this possible?  Even I don’t understand such non-attachment.

Thankfully, I have images like these to get me through.  So lucky am I, I think… so lucky am I.

Carol MaclaskeyMarch 30, 2013 - 6:35 pm

Robin. I happened onto one of your beautiful quilts on Pinterest tonight which led me to your blog. It seems my life has been in turmoil for a long time and as I read your gentle words, I have found a kind of peace descending over me. I came to admire an artist’s work and found a sage. I cannot wait to read the rest..

In the meantime, I found it interesting reading about your feelings (or non-feelings) about the finished quilts. I have always felt the same way. The longer I spend on one, the less attached I seem to feel when it’s done. I made one insanely complex quilt that took all of 7 years. Two years to learn to dye fabric in the colors that seemed “oh so important” and another five to sew the thing and hand quilt it. I still have it and often felt guilty about my lack of “connection” to it. It hangs on the wall in my studio, but I so often think about rolling it up and putting it away… About a year ago though, I read an article about one person’s idea of the difference between an artist and a craftswoman. The artist, she said, uses whatever materials necessary to complete the finished work that she sees in her head. She labors over her work (often feverishly) and stands back in absolute joy when it’s done…admiring her work and drinking in the accomplishment. A craftswoman revels in the materials. She collects and sorts and fondles…she picks and chooses the colors she uses with great care and labors over the decisions she makes. As she moves along, she often finds herself distracted by those glorious materials. When it’s done, she may feel a sense of accomplishment, but she is anxious to begin again…the sorting…the choices…the colors…the joy is in the creation and especially in the materials. The final result is just the outward result of the joy she’s felt in the making.. ;-)

UlrikeDecember 8, 2012 - 9:04 am

I am not sure if it is of any help and whether I should post about it: No matter how much energy went into the process and how much struggles existed to put all those ideas into anything alike….I have never felt nearly as attached to the final product as to the process itself. It migth even be close to lack of interest sometimes, which makes me feel guilty. Thankfully, there are a lot of simpler projects for me to relax.
Anyway, what I was trying to say is: enjoy a peaceful christmas time and don’t feel bad about caring so much about your creative process. Because it is worth it with all its mistakes, anxiety and little pleasures.
xo, Ulrike

RuthDecember 7, 2012 - 3:45 am

Oh, I understand, Robin! I have plenty of ‘why am I doing this?’ moments. But I keep coming back to my fabric, my machine, and my quiltmaking! I’m looking forward to seeing that quilt in the first pic. Enjoy e festive season!

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