I was wearing my quilted jacket yesterday in the college cafeteria when a woman told me most enthusiastically that I must go to the Centerville Museum to hear a lecture about quilts from someone who's "done a lot of research." She was an enthusiastic salesman. So I went this afternoon. I maintained my cool and said nothing at all negative as -- and after -- I listened to a woman who had done "some" research, but not much, who had never made a quilt and possibly never owned one talk about a few she had in hand and show half a dozen slides. One of the quilts she described was borrowed from a man who is an historian; I visited in his house a couple of months ago. He showed me about the quilt and told me it's story at length. The speaker murdered the description.
Surely the people who put together this village's museum's programs know that a very large quilt guild -- and several smaller ones -- exist on Cape Cod. Surely they know that two stores devoted to quilting fabrics exist within five miles of the museum. Surely anyone wanting an expert in quilting would think of contacting either the guild or the owners of the stores on the assumption that someone with real knowledge could be found to give a talk. They did nothing of the sort. They presented half-baked information to a group of women who seem complacent and happy in their ignorance which was in no way alleviated by today's talk. These are not dumb people; but they perpetuate their own ignorance while seeming to want information. I don't understand. Is it laziness? I find it sad.
[The above art quilt was on show last summer at the International Quilt Show I attended, I'm sorry I don't have the maker's name. This kind of art quilt was not within the vocabulary of anyone at today's gathering. I wanted, in the worst sort of way, to get up and talk to them -- not to show off but because when subject I love and am knowledgeable about is murdered I want to right the wrong. But we were all "ladies" who certainly don't rock anyone else's boat.]
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!