in watermelon sugar: Recycled Sweater Quilt

Monday, May 21, 2012

Recycled Sweater Quilt

This winter I became obsessed with making a recycled sweater quilt. It was like the story Stone Soup in that I wanted to make the quilt based on the few sweaters I started out with. Then I had to go out thrifting repeatedly in order to finish the quilt. This quilt was very quick and easy, is tied and it's very heavy and warm. It has flannel backing. If you are interested there are several good tutorials online including this one called resweater.

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My Name by Richard Brautigan

I guess you are kind of curious as to who I am, but I am one of those who do not have a regular name. My name depends on you. Just call me whatever is on your mind.

If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you to do something. You did it. Then they told you what you did was wrong-"Sorry for the mistake,"- and you had to do something else.

That is my name.

Perhaps it was a game you played when you were a child or something that came idly into your mind when you were old and sitting in a chair near the window.

that is my name.

Or you walked someplace. There were flowers all around.

that is my name. Perhaps you stared into a river. There was somebody near who loved you. They were about to touch you. You could feel this before it happened. Then it happened.

That is my name.

Or you hear someone calling from a great distance. Their voice as almost an echo.

That is my name.

Perhaps you were lying in bed, almost ready to go to sleep and you laughed at something, a joke unto yourself, a good way to end the day.

That is my name.

Or you were eating something good and for a second forgot what you were eating, but still went on, knowing it was good.

That is my name.

Perhaps it was around midnight and the fire tolled like a bell inside the stove.

That is my name.

Or you felt bad when she said that thing to you. She could have told it to someone else: Somebody who was more familiar with her problems.

That is my name. Perhaps the trout swam in the pool but the river was only eight inches wide and the moon shone on iDeath and the watermelon fields glowed out of proportion, dark and the moon seemed to rise from every plant.

That is my name.