I have these muslin squares, saved for 37 years. They were bought from Mothercare in Birmingham (alongside all the other trappings of a new baby) when the birth of my first son was imminent. So much fabric, clothing, other household and child related textiles have passed through my hands and been passed on to be used by others, but not these. They have an unbelievable softness. Daniel used to scrunch them up in his hand and rub them against his cheek. I can remember having one over my shoulder and draped across my breast me as he slept against me.
I thought I would just keep hold of them, they didn’t take up much space. I couldn’t see what I would ever use them for. Until today.
I’ve used up pretty much every suitable piece of fabric in my studio for this twig wrapping. This ritualistic twisting and tightening and stitching in. I comfort the “child” as I wrap. I hold them close and look after them, protect them.
So, before I go looking elsewhere, in charity shops etc for other fabric, I have one more delve into my supplies.
And there they are.
Soft.
Not quite white.
I hold them to my face to smell them.
I can smell all of the smells, in one great rush.
Their time has come it seems.
I tear a few strips off the edge of one, just to try it out… and I know.
I don’t know how many twigs I have wrapped so far, but I think these might be the last. Enough.
