Quilted reflections patch their way onto the page as if outlined with silken threads, scrolled - more often typed. Sometimes the fabric is fragile, like a baby bird in my hand, fallen from its nest. It doesn't survive other than in desperate words, hand-made paper splashed with tears. Other-times harmoniously sewn thoughts nestle between the covers of my soft leather journal, pentameter becomes sashing for metaphors, photographs pattern pieces that inspire it all.
butterflies & lavender nourish
by Margaret Bednar, September 18, 2017