Yellow Flowers

In May this piece was lucky enough to be selected to be in the Kinsey Institute Art Show in Bloomington Indiana. I was happy this one was chose because it’s one of my favorites and I have a weird bond with this piece because of something weird that happened:

I normally take photographs of the finished quilts outside on my front porch in diffuse light. I don’t have a roof over my porch and am thus at the mercy of the weather because of this, particularly in the winter. I finished this piece in January and waited patiently for a random sunny/snowless day to appear. When it did I had several pieces to photograph so I bundled them all together and took them outside. It was a beautiful warm-ish sunny day but it was windy. I put the bundle of quilts to the side and started photographing them one at a time. I finished in about an hour and blithely went about my day.

The next morning I had errands to run. I was also going to meet someone for a late lunch. During my errands I needed gas for my car. In the process I got a little bit of gas on my dress and the smell filled my car. I couldn’t go to lunch smelling like fuel. I was close to home so I ran home to change clothes. I always back into my driveway. In the process of backing up I looked up across the street and noticed something flapping in the street in front of my neighbor’s house. I knew instantly what it was, screeched to a halt and threw my car into park.

It was this quilt. It was lying in the street, face down. The wind the day before had picked it up and spirited it away and I didn’t notice. Panicked, I checked it over carefully. Absolutely no harm was done. It was in perfect condition. It still gives me chills to realize that it survived a January night outside, a trip across the street and who knows how many cars driving near it. And it survived in perfect condition. I was relieved that it survived, but also I was relieved I was the one who found it. My neighborhood is very active with children and people walking around the neighborhood. I can’t even imagine what would happen if someone had found such a bizarre object on the street. I can’t imagine what they would do with it. The thought actually frightens me.

I took it inside and hung it on the wall and loved looking at on my own until I sent it to the gallery for the exhibit. It is now a part of the permanent collection at the Kinsey Institute and I’m very proud of that fact. But I’d be lying if I said I won’t miss it.

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