A Needlepoint Quilt

Today's post is a patchwork, in more ways than one. This has been a uniquely rich, stressful, educational time, and it is hard to know where to begin. I'll have to limit myself to only three or four "patches" on today's quilt, starting with the dream that inspired the theme.

Actually, in true Liz fashion, I don't really remember much of the dream that I woke up from Monday morning. All I know is that I had made quite a colorful and impressive needlepoint tapestry, which from a distance looked rather like a quilt with bright squares. (I used to do needlepoint, and it may be my favorite form of needlework, although I haven't done it often recently.) There was a big thing in the dream about how I was supposed to get this piece to someone, but I couldn't do it until a man I didn't know provided part of the artwork, perhaps a frame? And here's where it was typical of my dreams, because I didn't know this man's phone number (or the number of the person who had ordered it), and on top of that, my phone wasn't working and all my efforts to find another one went nowhere. I woke up from the dream (as I often do from dreams) drained and frustrated. But I did remember the image, so I quickly grabbed some colored markers and got it down on paper, as you will see below (apologies for the blurriness. I have a feeling that the very quality of my phone's camera that leads to such amazing aura effects also makes close-up shots unclear.)

One more note is that I had to convince myself to share this image for what might seem by some to be a silly reason: as the child of narcissism, I looked at my name's initial in the center and said to myself, "I shouldn't be drawing so much attention to myself. I shouldn't be the center of anything." Clawing your way back from this kind of early life experience takes a lifetime -- I guess I've decided it's a pretty, cheering image, and that hopefully this outweighs all other considerations!

Hmm...let's see. What else. I am still dealing with the medical situation I have alluded to, which someday I do promise I'll unpack! (I know I sometimes move on and forget to follow through, but in this case, I hope that won't happen.) Some friends have been concerned, for which I am so grateful! In the end, this isn't so much a serious thing as it is a psychically hard thing, with interesting timing. So part of why I included these bright colors in my blog is to cheer myself up, as well as anyone else out there who needs cheering, for any reason.

It just occurred to me that this "quilt" actually represents the rich tapestry of wisdom I've been accessing online, particularly this week. In the midst of it all, one presenter (I forget who) asked people to ask themselves, "When did you stop singing?" Oh my, that cut me to the quick. I didn't stop singing entirely back in the early 1980's, but close to it. The inference was, if we stop singing (or, for some people, dancing or playing an instrument, or whatever), we are no longer fully alive. I cannot go back, but what I'm going to start today is to sing when I am on my walk...to the birds, to the wind, to the trees. To whoever will listen.