Capturing the essence. There’s a comfortable noise. More like a hum in fact. Every now and then I hear a portion of a conversation and it inevitably revolves around quilting. A child runs through the crowd and demands his Parents attention. The men attending seem to be in the grey hair group and I note that one of them is fast asleep and about to fall in his dinner. Is Quilting that boring? Maybe he has a sleep disorder. The funny thing is that his wife just shifted his orange juice and plate and the conversation with her friends continued without a beat. No outside windows make the room grey, punctuated by the neon lights of the pokies next door and the colourful message boards describing the food you can purchase. There is a faint smell of cigarette smoke, roast lamb and alcohol. There are strong Australian accents that are harder on the ear than the accents I’ve been listening to over the past few months. Somehow I never seem to be aware of accents …
Asilomar. There is a grey blue light outside and by the time I have gone through my emails and finished this post it will burst into orange. The miracle of the day. So I figure that when the day begins with such an event, the rest of the day almost can’t go wrong. Maybe it’s just attitude that allows you to see the ‘graciousness’ in moment. I figure that if you grab that jolly word with both hands and hang on, you can’t go wrong for the rest of the day.
There is a pile of vintage quilts in the room I use waiting to be shipped home. In the mean time I sleep on and under them at each visit and the challenge of the bargain and the purchase is exciting. I keep those memories fresh when I use them daily in my home in Australia. The pasts have flown over the ocean and the hands that worked them are appreciated more than the maker ever imagined.
What stories they could tell, but by using them, they are bought to life again.
I love art, photography, textiles, threads and sewing machines. But goodness me I don’t pretend to be an expert in everything.
I just have great confidence in what I do in my own preferred genres and what I can achieve, which has led me to share my ideas and techniques with others who love the same things as I do.
I folded my dreams into my everyday life.
We were welcomed into their house. The entire family assembled to meet us. Father and two of the sons showed us the weaving, but I sort of lost something in the translation. I don’t think the Father is doing it any more because of his poor eyesight.
We were ushered into the main room of the house which was painted bright yellow. Around the 4 walls as sumptuous seating.
One of our stops in Mexico was to the BotanicGarden, Cosmovitral. I loved the shapes of the cactus combined with the stained glass and the beauty of a young woman celebrating her special day.
After writing my travel tips up on Facebook, I was asked for photos. So now I have time to share.
Words and images of a day in a small Mexican village.
I decided just to add the photos of the tools of the artists I have visited. Everything is beautiful, from a bucket of bolts to a piece of metal hanging in a turquoise
wall. I hope these images are an inspiration for you,
I write this in the bus as we drive to the Doha coffee plantation.
8 ladies in the bus.
I’ve been up since 3.30, catching up on paperwork… mainly for the next trip to Mexico. I’m sure that will be another adventure indeed.