Thursday, October 03, 2013
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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...