The election is over, and Grand Canyon seems tiny in comparison to the divide between US citizens today. I’m at Midway Airport, headed to the Kansas City Modern Quilt Guild. The airport is a strange place right now.
A very close friend of mine supported the candidate that I did not support in the election. There came a terrible day when I told him I didn’t want to talk to him anymore because of his position. I straight-up stonewalled him, told him I couldn’t be his friend. I was wrong to do that.
Thankfully, I figured out how dumb that was — there are benefits to being in one’s late thirties —and about a day later (okay, maybe two), I called him up, apologized, and listened to him. I really, really listened. I learned why he felt the way he felt. Then I asked him if he would listen to me. He listened. He disagreed but understood a lot more about how I felt by the time we were done with the conversation. We hung up saying, “I love you,” and we meant it. We still mean it.
The quilt block up there is a Union Square quilt block, but I actually am dubious about this; a google search of the Union Square block will yield a different-looking block but I swear, that’s what the thing was listed as when I made it some years ago for a Quilty episode.
It’s a good one. Three fabrics. Forty-five pieces. Geometry. Harmony. With effort, concentration, choices, and interest, I made that block. A lot of people helped me get to the place where I was able to make that block: teachers, mentors, helpers, students, designers. Lots of folks.
Union. The word looks weirdly like “Onion,” come to think of it. And “union” is not dissimilar to an actual onion: complex, multi-layered, useful, problematic if you have an allergy or something…and yes, my analogy ran out but I am very tired.
I meet so many people on the road. I love you and all those beautiful quilts.
Union Square.