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Friday, June 8, 2007
Ducks in a Row
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Barnful of Quilts 2007
The 2007 Barnful of Quilts will be held Saturday, Oct. 13, at Fox Farms in Waxhaw, NC. This is a quilt and fiber arts show to benefit Waxhaw Presbyterian Women’s Group. Members of an art quilt group to which I belong, Charlotte’s Fiber Art Options, will have work exhibited and for sale. For more information, go to www.foxfamilyfarm.com. Fulvia Luciano is the featured artist this year. Find out more about her at www.fulviastudio.homestead.com.
“The Bluest Eye”
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"Harbinger’s Hope"
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“Harbinger’s Hope” is a piece I started this spring after a prolonged battle with Duke Power, who threatened to cut the 70-year-old sugar maples in our front yard back to the trunk to provide clearance for power lines. The quilt celebrates the renewal of spring and some of the magical things that go on in trees’ branches. When I finished it, I was reminded of this poem by Emily Dickinson:
HOPE is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I ’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
– Emily Dickinson
"Teach Me to Hear Mermaids Singing"
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This is my first art quilt. I took a class with Bonnie McCaffery in the fall of 2005, and learned to paint a face on fabric. I came home and started creating the story behind the face. Goes to show how a class with a great teacher can change your work ... and sometimes even the course of your life! Thanks, Bonnie!
This quilt is really about my daughter, who at 10 remains convinced that she is actually a mermaid, and will some day transform and swim out to sea.
The name comes from this poem by John Donne:
Song
Go, and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me, where all past years are,
Or who cleft the Devil's foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Or to keep off envy's stinging,
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.
If thou be'est born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till age snow white hairs on thee,
Thou, when thou return'st wilt tell me
All strange wonders that befell thee,
And swear
Nowhere
Lives a woman true, and fair.
If thou find'st one, let me know,
Such a pilgrimage were sweet,
Yet do not, I would not go,
Though at next door we might meet,
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two, or three.
“Goodmorning, Sunshine!”
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