A year ago this weekend, I went to the Quilts UK thingy at Malvern. While there, amongst other things, I bought this heap of the most gorgeous, richly-dyed unspun silk. I bought it with the PTB in mind. A thing to make veins with, blood vessels, arterial routes. I just found it in a bag in my cupboard. As I pull it out it is like I’m pulling the veins. It catches and tangles. It’s knotted, yet also the smoothest thing in the world. The fine fibres catch on my nails and skin as I handle it. I can twist it in my fingers. I’m longing to stitch it down somehow, divide it, tell it where to go. Make it submit. I can make it say words, or keep it silent. If I divided it enough it would wrap around Franny and Julie and me.
It’s a project that’s itching to be.
