Helen Kelley Patchworks

I’ve promised myself that if I finish quilting all this snow (on my Canadian Postcard quilt) by noon, I shall scrub the kitchen floor. The floor has been tragic for a month, covered with garden soil and fallen leaves stuck down with orange juice. It’s just that snow is more important. Snow gives me a sense of enlightenment. A clean floor will just give me a sense of relief.

I am working with a local public arts organization to hang a small number of my quilts in The Government Center. I am glad to have this opportunity to be part of their efforts to bring art into the center of our daily lives. I feel quite passionate about placing sculpture, paintings, and, yes, quilts in places that inspire us in our ordinary, regular routines. That’s what makes the ordinary into the extra-ordinary.

When I first visualized the sky for my Canadian postcard quilt, it was in great swirls of light – a la VanGogh’s Starry Night.  That was how I remembered northern lights.

Then, this week, we actually saw a fabulous display of northern lights here in Minneapolis.  They didn’t swirl.  They shot!  They streaked!  They shimmered!  My vision has changed.  So has my plan for quilting my sky.

My husband, Bill, is replacing windows in our house. It’s a strenuous and exacting job. I’ve asked him not to do it alone. But, the more I ask, the more he’s determined to prove that he can. Sometimes, when I run into a tough quilting challenge, I refuse to take his advice. I think it’s because he’s a stubborn Norwegian, and I’m just plain stubborn.

I’ll be in Houston at the International Quilt Festival this week, signing books in the Primedia (Quilter’s Newsletter) and the Craftsman’s Touch (booksellers) booths. Though I’ve been here many times, I’m always amazed at the size of the event and the new trends in quiltmaking. And, of course, I love meeting so many old and new friends.

Did you vote? When I voted today, I broke the voting machine. I struggle to improve my relationship with my machines, but never seem to be able to. Only my sewing machine and my microwave have become my close personal friends.

Dear Friends, I taught a couple of workshops in Des Moines last week. I had a lovely time. Someone asked me how I’d fill my time if I retired. I chuckled. I’ll have to live to be 110 years old to finish what’s on my list right now. And that doesn’t include what will come up between now and then.

Dear friends, Pine needles, snowdrifts, snow on the steps….. this quilt kept wanting one thing more and one thing more. I thought it would never be done. But now I think that it’s ready for a border and the frame.

I’m still working on my Canadian Post Card quilt. I’ve struggled with the pine trees and nothing seemed to work until I realized that I am not making "pine needles". I am making a "pine forest" and I took a different direction. My instincts told me to simply outline basic trees and I hated what I was doing. Then I stood back and looked at it. It’s better than I envisioned. I just had to readjust my sights.

Someone asked me, “What is your favorite thing.” and I replied, “Orange, the color orange.”

I am sitting here looking through the window into a brilliantly sunny autumn day at a world of red and golds that melt together into a cauldron of swirling orange. It is so awesomely beautiful that it fills me with pure happiness.