Beautiful Dreamers

I have a secret...

I am a veteran dreamer. From way back. When I was in second grade, I was seated in the rear of the classroom at a separate table & told to color with crayons while the rest of the children learned to read. My teacher deemed me "simple" & unable to keep up with the class because I frequently appeared lost in thought, as though I'd traveled to another realm. 

And she was right. 

I was in another world. But what she didn't realize is that I was actually quite busy.

In my mind, I was visiting new lands & holding conversations with creatures who had wings & engaged in fascinating adventures that stretched the limits of reality. I remember how difficult it was for me to focus on rote learning, particularly since my mind was always spooling at the speed of light. By the time I turned seven, I had my subtle daydreaming technique down pat--all I had to do was fold my hands in my lap, tilt my head a bit & let my eyes drift to the side, and my spirit could escape from the classroom entirely. No one could tell I was lost in imagination, because I kept a vague smile on my face to make it look like I was listening. 

This habit had negative consequences on my school work, of course. And you might think I would have become discouraged by the teacher's assessment of my intelligence. I knew full well she thought I was dim, because another student came up & informed me that I was seated at the "dumb" table. The teacher heard her words & didn't argue.

Cool! was my reaction. I get to color! Not only did I get to dream, I could draw whatever I'd imagined & then take it home to show to my mother.

Thank God I had the kind of mother who always told me I was smart & creative! It never occurred to me to internalize anyone else's assessment of my abilities. And what my mother gave me, along with her consistent & enthusiastic approval for creativity, was her undying faith in possibilities that bordered on magic. While others might have recommended medication or behavioral therapy, instead she saw a little girl whose soul was big enough to try and embrace all the beauty in the world.

Now, in middle age, after finishing several college degrees, holding jobs, and checking off many things from my bucket list, I still find that the creative dreamer in me--that girl who loved to look at the world as full of wonders--is what I like about myself best. And I actually think it's what makes me the most beautiful inside. Forget the fact that I adore makeup, have too many shoes, and love to snag retro-bohemian clothes on eBay. What makes me feel the most luminous within is viewing life the way my mother taught me: As a world brimming with light, beauty & promise, where nothing is impossible.

And I have a confession to make: I see people that way, too. I get so excited when I meet everybody. They're all so beautiful! Each one a spark of energy I've never encountered before! In truth, I'm the kind of person who has to sit on her hands to keep from hugging everyone in sight--even strangers. Over time, I've had to learn to reign myself in because I scare people. A couple of my dearest friends "get it" & are gracious enough to run around with me in the woods every spring, hugging all the trees & greeting the new flowers. My little boys, of course, enjoy it too, and we prance through the forest crying "Welcome!" to every blossom we encounter. They're only here for a short time, don't you know? And surely they deserve to be celebrated. Especially with a lovely picnic blanket & tea set... 

So call me the April Fool & I'll wear the crown with pride. For me, this dreamy tendency makes each day enchanting. Like you, I continue to do laundry, go grocery shopping, cook meals, and fulfill all kinds of household & career obligations. But I never fool myself for a minute that such activities help me "get ahead." In my heart I'm already where I want to be. If I can run my hand through a child's silky hair, listen to his or her fanciful stories, feel sunshine warming my skin, smell new blossoms & hear the gentle rustle of wind through trees, I've "arrived". And as spring temperatures warm the earth beneath your feet, I hope you'll be foolish enough to take off your shoes & socks once in a while & feel its stirring beneath your toes, maybe even letting it trickle down to your soul. When you do, I hope you'll lie back on the grass & take some time out to visit with the most beautiful part of yourself--that part of you that knows how to dream. How to revel in the wonder & mystery of life, & how to let your spirit soar to wherever it wants to go. You never know, you might just find that it carries you to where you've always wanted to be after all...

Photo credit note: All images on my blog are either my own or were gleaned from pictures in the public domains of popular social networks like tumblr, facebook or pinterest. If you own the copyright to any of these images & do NOT want them used publicly, please contact me & I will take them down immediately! : )

Stitching Hearts

Few things herald the coming of spring to me quite like a quilt show. Especially in early March, when temperatures are still rather brisk, the bright colors of quilts always lift my spirits & remind me that winter's bleak grays & browns will eventually be replaced by the courageous early blooms of crocuses & daffodils. So when I saw an advertisement for a local quilt display in my rural area, I jumped at the chance to go.

This particular "Album" quilt was a showstopper for its extraordinary use of detailed applique with traditional designs using a vibrant rainbow of colors.

And this bold "Star Reel" design was entirely stitched by hand. Although this quilt was completed in modern times, it made me wonder about the women who quilted in the 18th & 19th centuries in America out of necessity to provide warmth for their families.  Even though quilts back then were considered a practical item, the women's artistry still shone through.

Of course, there was no radio or television in those days, so perhaps quilting was a welcome respite during long winter evenings lit by candlelight, if one wasn't already too exhausted by chores. And then there was the social aspect of quilting—quilting bees offered isolated women the opportunity for much-needed female companionship (not to mention a chance to catch up on local gossip : ).

 But there's another aspect of quilting that has always fascinated me as well. I often wonder if, in the long hours spent in the tedious work of hand stitching, women can't help imprinting not only part of their personalities but also their souls into the patterns of their quilts. After all, each quilt acts as a permanent record of the woman who made it, reflecting her personal choices & what was important to her in that particular place & time.

This quilt, for example, is the traditional "Tree of Life" pattern that serves to remind us of the importance of faith & the hereafter. But notice how the quilter embellished it with birds at the top & bottom. Their charm adds a bit of lightness & whimsy to the overall quilt design—could there possibly be a message from the quilter here? Could she be saying, "Yes, prayer & spiritual devotion are always good—but don't forget to sing & make merry while you still can"?

It's impossible to say what each quilter intends, and perhaps it's that very mystery that has always drawn me to quilts, as though each one contains a series of stitched hieroglyphics that sheds light on the spirit of the quilter, if one can somehow decipher their meaning? 

For this reason, I loved using a quilt as a metaphor for the "magic" that is passed down through generations of women in my novel TWIXT. The quilt created by Corvine O'Dannan in the 19th century might look like a "Crazy Quilt" to the casual observer—a haphazard design of herbs & moons & totem animals—but to Corvine's modern descendent Rose, the quilt is actually a sacred heirloom that holds the key to unlocking the special alchemy of the ’twixt women (who are part fairy & part human).

With their unique colors, patterns & textures, quilts preserve the heritage of the women who came before for the women who come after, and each stitch links their hearts in an eternal chain. As we pass these heirlooms along, quilts act as conduits of the love & tradition that went into making them—and the warmth & security they provide remind us of the value of history & hard work, but also of the creativity & whimsy that makes each quilt unique. As a result, quilts are the  colorful "soul records" of creative & enduring women who brightened their own worlds with every stitch & left behind a piece of themselves with each design for posterity to remember & enjoy.