I will never again be going back to Michigan to visit my parents. When the plane took off from Metro Airport a few Sundays ago, I looked out the window and became all the Julies that sat in that seat over the decades...leaving to head towards or to escape from, leaving in tears, rage, jitters, leaving with fiancees and husbands, crying babies and sullen teenagers.
I saw all those girls, like some kind of movie from the 50s where an actual spiral on the screen lets you know you are spiraling back in time. They are all still in me and they are creating this new cloth...The State of Michigan.
Not sure if the rest of the world knows that Michigan is shaped like a mitten. I've stitched in the beginnings of a pine tree using some lovely hand-dyed varigated floss that I buy instead of getting peanut M & Ms but stopped making the needles till I get a more foresty green. The four-patch is from a bunch of 19th century blocks I found in
Leadville Colorado and the word is from a pillow that Billy Dog is
I'm trying Jude's "Coma Effect" to see if I can build up all the girls in the plane that day.