My father told me that his grandmother, Minnie, used to
make quilts. They were not art, he assured me, just made up of
snippets of old clothes , so as not to waste fabric and used to keep
warm. He remembers one, he says, all in grays and blacks and plaids.
Not art, he says, not meant to be beautiful.
Sounds like beauty to me. Maybe even art...
Saturday, May 02, 2009
tulip
This lone tulip blooms in my yard every may. It springs up right in the midst of the lilac bush.
wonderful. and the mention of a lilac bush brings back memories of my childhood growing up in NJ. what i'd give for a chance to smell the blossoms once they bloom... thanks for the memories!
wonderful. and the mention of a lilac bush brings back memories of my childhood growing up in NJ. what i'd give for a chance to smell the blossoms once they bloom...
ReplyDeletethanks for the memories!
Oooh, lilacs. Makes me always think of my childhood. We had the most glorious lilac bushes in the backyard. The smell was absolutely heavenly.
ReplyDeleteAlone. Out of place. Yet beautiful and by its beauty, powerful. Who cannot acknowledge its presence.
ReplyDeleteAre the lilacs resentful? I think not. Perhaps they welcome the orphan.
what a beautiful picture.
ReplyDeleteelse