in theory, i love the grayness of november. it's monotone and indifferent and anti-climatic. a personality i embrace. i'm drawn to the subtle. but love to find the raging just beneath the surface. this year i've been too busy to find november until it's last few days.
the quilts i make blend a grandmother's ideals with a fresh youthful flair. there is a nostalgia for seasons past combined with hopefulness for a bright full future. I write little stories in my mind as I make the quilts. sometimes they become actual stories. and sometimes I share them here.
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