Sometimes sharp pieces need to come out softly. In a quiet voice. And in a shocking spray. Of fabric. And yarn. And in words that can't always be uttered.
Fifteen to twenty-five hundred quilts will be made. From old clothes. Memories. And glass. They are to be seen only together and in a gallery. Heavy weight, both in emotional content and density, these quilts are not bed friendly (unless you are a mentalist).
This is a work in progress. And a magical story of imaginary twisted umbilical cords. And tumor growth.