WV Quilt Festival Part I

The longer I am away from home, the more I must process coming to terms with my own identity. I'm not talking about living the next state over from the people and places that I know and love, but a whole continent away! Somehow no matter where I am, there is always something small that is missing from each place. Usually I can go about a year before I start feeling a little out of balance, and experience a deep yearning to be in that familiar place again, with familiar people, and even a familiar language.... for me that place is West Virginia.

When I was growing up, I viewed my home state much differently than I do now, and I think living away from that place you call home can make you realize things that you never recognized before. While West Virginia is not exactly a "hot spot" destination for most travelers coming to the US, there is something rich and pure about the not so populated, "country roads" state. I've come to appreciate the deep cultural roots that makes the mountainess state, and the people, what they are.

While quilting plays a big role in the West Virginia's history, unfortunately that heritage was not passed down in my family like I read other generational quilters tell of. My grandmother did give us quilts from other quilters, and I remember being wrapped up in them studying each little print, picking out my favorite ones. Truly at a young age I appreciated each tiny snippit that made a quilt.

I love traditions and especially making them. In Germany so far we have a standing annual event for Thanksgiving, Spargelzeit (aspargus time), and new Christmas traditions as a family. For the last several years, when I have traveled home to visit my family, I have attended the local quilt show with my one and only aunt who does quilt. We marvel at the skills, designs, and quilting of each one, and know first hand the time that it takes to make each one.... it's almost become our annual tradition.

As I walked through the doors to the show, I felt my heart stir a bit, knowing full well that the tradition of quilting in West Virginia is older than me or anyone that I know. Sewing and quilting has been just as much a part of the culture as the mountains, and I can't help thinking that me stepping into that tradition is somehow about coming full circle.

I was particularly fascinated by the traveling quilt "The First Four Hundred" by Jane M. Crutchfield, which was also hand quilted. "Each block has an element from the cover of each of the first four hundred issues of Quilter’s Newsletter (Sept 1969-Mar 2008).  The first blocks are black and white because that is how the magazine was published initially.  The blocks then go to monochromatic for several issues, then to full color in July 1976 with the Bicentennial Star block."

(source)

As I had expected, most of the quilts on exhibit were more traditional in fabric choices and designs, but there were a few modern quilters also exhibiting at the show. Even though my style leans more towards the modern end of the spectrum, I can very much appreciate quilts that carry the art through the generations.

Do you have any quilting traditions? Are you from generations of quilters or did you discover the art in some other way?

All quilts shown are from the 2015 West Virginia Quilt Festival exhibit.

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A Matter of the Heart

They say that home is where the heart is, and while there is much truth in this, for me such a statement does not consider the reality of living abroad.

While driving recently, an old familiar song came on the radio that funnily every German seems to know word for word. The irony of it is that it is an old country song by John Denver, that actually has more meaning to me now that I am on the opposite side of the pond than when I was on the other side... "country roads, take me home, to the place I belong"... 

 Being somewhat annoyed with myself for having teared up while singing along, it was very much a confirmation that my heart ached for family and that familiar place that I once called "home". Living life in a different country is very much a fine balance between letting go of what once was, and embracing, blending, meshing, and creating a home in the new. 

So, I would assume that you have noticed that things have been very still around here, but with good reason. This summer has been about seeing my family, nestling in for a while in that old familiar place with no demands, and just being me. One cannot imagine the kinds of challenges one faces functioning daily in a language that you did not hear your own mother speaking to you from birth on.

But as I soaked in the flavors of the past, I felt a still in my soul. The place of my roots, the place where I feel connected to, and where I long for when I am away. My missing home should not be misinterpreted as discontent, quite the contrary. I have found my home here. Some time ago, a friend of mine said it best... "when you live in foreign country for a long time, you find that there is always something missing... no matter where you are."

My heart is in TWO places, and I call them both home.

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Up To Speed

Where has the past year gone?

I guess a lot of people might ponder such a question after the whirlwind of the winter holidays has come to an end. Once things have actually settled into a day to day routine and everyday life begins again, the question is usually long forgotten.

I am not pondering the question because I am such a reflective person, with regular and insightly annual reviews followed by a goals and to-do list, but actually the question for me is really quite matter-of-fact... where has the last year gone?

One of the main reasons that I put things on pause was because over the last year, I have hardly had any time for myself. I've not had much time to be creative, or if I did have the time, then I was too tired. Working busily all day thinking... if I can just make it until the kids are in bed, then the rest of the evening will be spent behind the hum of the sewing machine. Many wishes that were never realized. And, if I'm not making anything how could I share anything? Or if I did make something, then there was not enough time to take photos and post about it. Quite frankly my silence was simply that I was busy just simply living life.

It seems that almost everyone I meet, everyone I know is on constant overload. Did things run at such a fast pace a generation ago... even back to our grandparents' days?

When I scan through our 2013 photo folder, looking for evidence of the year, I ask myself the same redundant question... where did it go?

Well, SPRING was just about surviving... running after a quite lively and active three year old...

... tickling the toes of a six month old, strategically planting kisses on just the right spot...
 

... and husband away on week long work trips. I barely remember many moments where I just sat down. Sleep was the excption and not the rule.

Then we managed to make it to SUMMER...

five whole weeks at home with my family... afternoons by the pool, snuggled in one king size bed with all the cousins and the grandparents for a movie night, ice cream runs, grill evenings with every sunny day eating outside, choo-choo train rides, fireworks,  4th of July, family, friends, naps outside, multiple trips to the fabric store with a favorite aunt, visits with a much missed grandmother, WAL- MART!!!, learning to crawl, stand.... then wobbly walking, running after the crawling, wobbly walker...

... and then we whizzed right into...

FALL which usually mirrors spring, but with the exception that the two little guys could now both suddenly do more, kindergarden began for the big guy, hubby still gone, and preparations for our big annual show while hubby was still gone.

... and somehow we fell right back to WINTER again, barely back on solid ground because of the yearlong merry-go-round. Quiet and still winter months, creating new family traditions all while missing my own childhood memories, and feeling deeply the hole that has been left because of the people that I once shared them with.

... January... hmmm,  is it really January again?

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