Margie, Diane and Mary

Within a three-day period last week, I received an equal number of gifts.  It was not my birthday; I had done nothing noteworthy to warrant such kindness.  None of the gifts came wrapped, no fancy paper, no curly ribbon.  In fact, I never held two of them in my hands and may never see them in person. They arrived via email; the other, in a letter.

Each from a friend.
Each an original creation.
Each took my breath away.


I asked the three friends if I could share their work.  They graciously agreed.

Margie Beedle's Art Quilt 

The assignment for a class she's taking was to make a fabric "shrine," depicting something she'd like more of in her life.  Margie chose walks in the woods.

Diane DeSloover's Poem

Handmade

My grandmother's hands
were beautiful.
I watched as they fashioned comfort
and mouth watering delight
from a spongy mound of dough.
I held the sticky, sweet goodness
in my tender palm
and began to imagine the wonder
of my own untried hands;
hands that would gather
a plenitude of days
and slowly, awkwardly mold then
into a living work of art.

My granddaughter's hands
are beautiful.
I watch as they fashion fantasy
and heart lifting laughter
from a lumpy ball of dough.
I cradle the lopsided creation
in a well worn palm
and feel the strength
of my yet willing hands;
hands that grasp
this miraculous day
and gratefully explore
each full, precious moment.

© Diane DeSloover
January 2012

Mary Toland's Handwoven Towels and Haiku 

Sitting at my loom

Over, under, warp and weft 

weaving hopes and dreams

Women honoring their creative spirits!

Margie

Diane

Mary

Thank you.  You inspire me.