Scraps

My most recent project -- made from scraps in my stash!

 I am a quilter. I have lots of scraps (thousands…), little two-inch squares cut from fabric that I bought or got from a friend or had left over from other projects. I’ve used those scraps over the years to make some lovely pieces with a technique called watercolor. The design of the quilt is made by the printed fabric, all cut into uniform squares, rather than fabric cut in geometric shapes. For me, the design process is more intuitive than intentional. I usually have a general idea of what I want to do, but then I just start and see where it goes. Some pieces fit right in; others get discarded. And no matter how many tiny scraps I use, it seems there are always more! 

My great-grandmothers were quilters. I have been fortunate enough to receive some of their quilts. Two of them are what collectors would consider masterpieces. One is made of solid blue and white fabric, set in a design known as the “Carpenter’s Rule.” The stitches are small and even, covering the whole piece. The other is a “Star of Bethlehem,” made with several different fabrics but all in an even, matching design. The fabric for both of these quilts was likely purchased. They were designed in a certain way, the pieces chosen with care, not made from scraps leftover from other projects. And even though they were made 150 years ago, the quilts are in pristine condition. They were likely used only on special occasions or put on a bed just for show. They are beautiful. 

There is another quilt in this collection, not a masterpiece at all. It is made of random scraps, mostly dark fabrics. Unlike the other two, it is worn, the batting coming out in places. The stitches are longer and seem as though they were put in with haste. This was a quilt not to admire, not to showcase one’s needlework, but a quilt to use. It must have kept generations of us warm. When we were small and it was on the bed, we pretended that it was a countryside, with farms and roads and fields. We made hills by propping our knees up under it. We ran our fingers back and forth, like tractors plowing in the spring. We traced routes up and down like trucks traveling on a country lanes. The quilt was sometimes folded up to make a pallet by the woodstove in the winter or stuffed into a drafty spot. 

When I start on one of my watercolor quilts, I never know exactly how it will end up. Like the great-grandmother who made the scrap quilt, I use what I have, and hope that what I have will be used. 

Once upon a time, I wanted my life to be like those two heirloom-quality quilts, carefully constructed from fabric intentionally chosen, lovely to look at, all planned out. But reality is more random. I so just keep stitching together all the scraps of my life and hope that the outcome will be warm and useful. And maybe even beautiful!