Good day everyone. I’ve had a little work done on my website; not a great deal of work mind you – just a few minor changes. I’ve renamed my blog to A View from the Bench. I’ll include photos from some of my favourite benches…places where I love to sit and think, pray or just be in the midst of nature.

First photo is from my son, Mike’s memorial bench, which sits just in front of a playground in a City park. I think most of us are counting down the days until the kids will be back climbing on the jungle gym, sliding down the slides and trying to balance on the teeter totter.

While I was sitting on Mike’s bench, it did my heart good to see several grown up kids come to play baseball on the diamond in the park. It’s been way too long since we’ve seen that!

I mean, not only is it Spring, but there’s a strong feeling of hope; that things are slowly coming back to life.

So, I just wanted to let you know that things will change a bit on my site. My web address is different too – www.kimhanson.ca. If it’s not too much trouble, would you all please consider subscribing to my blog again? I have a new feed and would love to keep coming to you. You can subscribe or re-subscribe here.

Thanks so much everyone.

Talk soon.

Kim

Good day everyone. As always, thanks again for joining me here on my blog.

I’ve written a profile piece on a wonderful quilter, Meryl Ann Butler. The article is on the shelves now…in the spring issue of Quilter’s World Magazine.

Here is the cover:

Isn’t it beautiful? Quilter’s World has done a beautiful job of capturing “Spring” in a photo. By the way, the colourful, rhythmic and exceptionally creative quilt on the cover is called Beautiful Bouquets by Nancy Scott.

I met Meryl Ann Butler online mid- 2013. She had the extreme misfortune of suffering a major theft of her quilts; art and wearables. In 2001, while she was attending a showing of her work in Los Angeles, a thief broke into her car and stole suitcases containing most of her life’s work. I wrote about this theft and other quilt thefts in the December 2013 issue of The Quilter Magazine. (None of her stolen items, to date, have been recovered).

Since then, it’s been my distinct pleasure to come to know Meryl Ann much better through our emails and wanted to write about her work again. As she is such a high profile quilt artist, pitching the idea to Quilter’s World was a breeze. You can read all about her in the issue starting on page 76.

I do love writing about quilting. I also love that I get to meet such talented and unique individuals as Meryl Ann Butler. These quilters have enriched my life.

Thank you everyone.

Originally published in Quilting Arts magazine, December 2017/January 2018 issue

I’m getting to that age in life where I’m so very grateful to be alive. I’ve lost family members and friends and acquaintances who have not been extended the same privilege as I have…to still be here in my sixth decade.

Thoughts turn to…What can I leave behind? What will my legacy be? Is it possible to touch the lives of my children and grandchildren when I’m no longer living? Basically, I wonder….can I leave a piece of my heart behind?

When they were young, my children were the center of my universe; my life revolved around them in a real sense. School, their activities and sports kept me running from one place to the next in a chaotic, frenzied way, never mind that my paid job also had to fit in. Days sped by like vehicles on the highway, turning into a blur month after month. Sometimes, the only way I remember those frantic and hectic days are when I look at all the photos, and thankfully, there are tons of photos.

My solace in those days, came in the evenings when the kids were tucked safely into bed. That’s when I would work on my latest quilting project, often late into the night. I felt such peace and strength and creativity as I sat stitching at my sewing machine, my fingers smoothing out the fabrics as they ran under my needle. Hours flew by, and I had to force myself to stop sewing and head to bed. I felt such joy and a sense of accomplishment when I would finish a quilt and be able to lay it atop one of my children’s beds. It was my way of protecting them, wrapping them safely in my love. But, did my children feel that?

Now, I have grandchildren – the greatest gift and blessing of all. I have quilted and sewn for both of them, many times over. Now, with the luxury of time, things have changed. I no longer have to choose between sleep and stitching; I work on my quilts during daylight hours. Life’s frantic pace has slowed down, and I can breathe and relax and reflect.

But one thing has not changed. I still feel such joy and a sense of accomplishment when I finish a quilt and lay it atop one of my grandchildren’s beds. It’s my way of protecting them, wrapping them safely in my love. But, do my grandchildren feel that?

My stash-cupboard has baskets and crates, filled to the brim with fabrics that tingle the senses; vivid, intoxicating colours of teals and pinks and reds, fabrics that are just waiting for me. The patterns and colours evoke joy and make me feel like a kid again – full of excitement, endless possibilities and wonder. But will those fabrics speak for me?

I have a lot of work to do in the upcoming years. So many quilts to make, so many stories to tell – I pray that I will get time to expand and express myself in all the ways that I wish to. Even at this age, my brain is still overflowing with concepts and plans and ideas for the future; I doubt that will change. As long as I’m able, I want to be creative. Perhaps that is part of my DNA…part of what drives me. More likely though, it’s my veiled attempt at articulating love.

So again, I wonder when I’m gone, will my quilts remain? Will my family truly understand that they are, and always have been, an expression of my love for them? Will they “get” me? Of course, my secret wish is that they do understand. I’m ever hopeful that my quilts will serve as a symbol of unspoken love. I’m ever hopeful that my children and grandchildren will still snuggle under one of my quilts, late at night, and feel protected and cherished and secure. I’m ever hopeful that they will know, with each quilt I’ve stitched, I’ve left behind a teeny tiny piece of my heart.