I got a seriously damaged old quilt at a rummage sale for $5 and immediately started ripping it apart and using the fabric for collage and mixed media. One chilly summer evening I needed a blanket in the studio and it was the most convenient one. I learned that this quilt has just as much to offer in the dark as it does in the sunlight. It felt like the perfect hug. After a few nights I decided that it felt even more wonderful than it looked and decided to quit ripping it apart and start restoring it. Sometimes I choose compatible fabrics and neat stitches; sometimes I make larger patches out of loud fabric and stitches that are intentionally sloppy. It doesn't make sense to mend a quilt that falls apart every time it gets washed. But that's exactly why I do it. This simple act of committing to a lost cause feels very quietly rebellious.
