6. Spinning my wheels

As I've said, the non-quilting parts of my life were not without struggle; I was immersed in an ongoing, ever-more-complicated process of exploring my options for "meaningful work." To be painfully honest, I didn't only want worthwhile work; I had plenty of that all around me, every day. I think that back then I also wanted work that "other people" considered worthy; I should be saving the world, or at least changing it somehow. And for a good salary, too. I once chuckled dismissively as my husband's aunt asked--as she grilled me about a new job he had--"but is he important?" Yet a letter I wrote to a friend in 1978 suggests I might have felt that I had failed to be "important," because I wrote: "I'm at home and enjoying it, trying not to feel too guilty about not being devoted to a career...I enjoy doing things with my hands--quilting, weaving, etc. (I never outgrew the 'playdough and cut-and-paste' stages of life)." There was part of an answer to my search in those words, but I couldn't see it.

So I read books about career choices, and in my journal I wrote entries in response to self-evaluation questionnaires. Writing about "my most satisfying achievements," I used the word "happy" in only two of those long-ago entries: one was about quilting, and the other was about raising my children. Another huge hint. But I couldn't figure out the big picture. While waiting for enlightenment, I ground whole wheat berries into flour and learned to make bread; I hung our clothes out to dry and did without a dishwasher to save energy; I pored over nutrition information so I could have a healthy family and maybe even become a nutritionist; I made clothing for my children; I found a full-time job as an administrative assistant while my husband took care of the children and wrote his dissertation; I began running regularly and even competitively. Though I would have been skeptical and probably annoyed if anyone had suggested it, I seem to have been on a mission to be a worthy modern woman.

All through that time I continued to turn to fabric for "recreation." Grinding wheat berries got old quickly, but my fabric collection still thrives. I began a subscription to Quilter's Newsletter Magazine (which I have to this day) and as a result became familiar with quilting tradition and patterns. I now knew how quilts were "supposed" to be made. So I began the quilt pictured here. Its "Carpenter's Wheel" center was a relatively difficult traditional block with set-in corners, featuring only a few fabrics. One of those fussy blocks was enough for me, and the quilt literally spun off wildly as I figured out how to avoid making any more yet still achieve a quilt of usable size. I began quilting this piece on a large, freestanding quilt frame; much later I realized that quilt frames work better when people quilt communally, but never mind: I was upholding a tradition. Then life changed again.