(my mother’s high school senior portrait)
my mother is a study of contradictions. she grew up on a farm in the very small town of atlantic, iowa. she embraced the no-nonsense, stiff upper lip, super kind, mid-western values (AND the comfort food, which i happily grew up with) but always felt misplaced on a farm. she did not enjoy collecting eggs at the crack of dawn - she says the hens were ruthless and would pinch the backs of her hands and twist her skin… i have to ask her why she didn’t wear gloves - or get particularly attached to her 4H cow (who she showed in penny loafers, not work boots) or adopt a runty pig like fern that she bottle fed and doted on. no - she moved to the “big city” of minneapolis straight away after college and started working in fashion. she preferred urban sidewalks (where she could wear pretty shoes) and buses to fields and tractors. she was thrilled that her job as a junior buyer for dayton’s department store took her on regular trips to new york where she could soak in the energy and art and architecture and bagels (which she’d never had before) of the biggest, most exciting city in the country.
(my mother as a little girl - she remembers playing with the fabric covered buttons on this dress)
(my mother with her 4H cow and her pennies)
(my mother was not really a “fern”)
in minneapolis she loved being able to reinvent herself as a “city girl” and unlike many of her generation was not in a particular rush to get married. but then she met my dad and was engaged after only SIX WEEKS and married within six months. i marvel at this… whenever i’ve been dating someone for that period of time i take a beat and think - if i were my mother i’d be MARRIED right now. i’ve asked her HOW she could commit so early and she says, “i knew i’d never be bored.” that’s true… my father is anything but boring. it’s also true that my mother has no patience for boring people or situations, which she disdainfully refers to as “milk toast” - a very mid-western term.
(my parents at their wedding)
after my father completed his pHD my parents moved from minneapolis to seattle (i was six months old) where my father taught at the university of washington. my mother eschewed being a “faculty wife” and began cultivating her own circle of friends. as much she enjoyed the quirky, amusing characters and experiences my father introduced her to, she never wanted to be defined by him (he has a BIG personality.) she was always pursuing her own interests and challenging herself to learn new things - she took an intensive chinese cooking course during this period (from which our thanksgiving wild rice stuffing was born) because there were no chinese restaurants in seattle back then. she also had another baby, my brother.
(my baby brother and me in seattle)
when i was five, my father did a teaching exchange at the university of california, berkeley. we were only meant to remain there a year, but after the conclusion of the spring semester my mother informed my father that she was staying in california with us (she had fallen in love with the bay area: the restaurants - their first dinner out was at the newly opened, extraordinary chez panisse, the views of the water and bridges, the easy access to san francisco and the creative community of berkeley.) she made one quick trip back to seattle to sell their house (which she didn’t tell my dad about until the deal was done) just to cement it. later, she bought a house (that they are still living in) from a man she met in the grocery line, which she also didn’t tell my father about until he came home that evening… she HAD called him at work (a rarity) to confirm there was enough money in their checking account for a deposit, but had not explained why she wanted to know. she can be pretty determined.
(alice waters of chez panisse)
(sailing on the bay in the 70’s)
growing up, she may have looked like a proper stay-at-home mom (despite living in berkeley she was definitely not a hippy), but she harbored a steely determination and set clear boundaries (usually with humor) so that she never got swallowed up by the roles of wife and mother. when my father gave her world war II books for her birthday (HE was very interested in this topic), she reciprocated by giving him lingerie for christmas. when she felt my father’s shopping habit (particularly for leather and sporting goods) had jumped the shark, she wrapped up his own things for his birthday. it wasn’t until he tried on the driving gloves that were already molded to his hands that he caught onto the joke.
(my father’s leather purchases DID extend beyond himself - we are all decked out in some sort of hide or fur)
while i know she (mostly) relished being a mother (she ADORES being a grandma), she always felt it was important to nurture her creativity. she began sewing her own clothes in college (she would sit at her machine over breaks and return to school with a whole new wardrobe) and has continued this practice throughout her life, designing and sewing outfits for me (she made my wedding dress), my children and most recently hank - she just sent him a star print winter coat! when i was in elementary school she began experimenting with all kinds of mediums. i remember coming home to find the downstairs bathtub filled with long, skinny sticks soaking in water to soften them so my mother could make baskets. then there was the collage period when the dining room table was covered in colored bits of paper. eventually, she volunteered to help make a raffle quilt to raise money for our elementary school. returning to fabric resonated and thus began nearly fifty years of quilt making.
(new mother)
(experienced mother)
(new grandma - theo and my mom share the same birthday!)
(experienced grandma)
(lucy in a shift dress made by mother)
(hank in his new winter jacket)
a true mid-westerner, my mother is the rare artist who primarily approaches her creativity with logic, rather than emotion. she is a problem solver who revels in puzzles and mazes and geometric explorations. she frequently alters traditional quilt blocks to construct new patterns and pathways for the eye to follow. she creates movement and depth in her quilts by varying color value or combining unexpected prints and hues. her pieces are both mathematical challenges and painterly in her color use. they are also really beautiful.
(one of my favorites - “flowing leaves”)
(the quilt in my bedroom)
(theo’s “baby block” quilt”)
(lu has three quilts in her room - two on the wall and one on the bed)
since that first raffle quilt, my mother has made hundreds more. they have been exhibited in group and solo shows, published in magazines and books and cherished by those lucky enough to receive them. quilt making for my mother is both an individual pursuit (she has a studio in that house she bought without telling my father with a huge flannel board where she plays with and maneuvers the fabric pieces before sewing them together) and a social network - she has been involved with the east bay heritage quilters, a large organization that produces shows, lectures and classes and her small quilting group, the “no problems” (SOMETIMES they allow the “problems” [husbands] to join them for a dinner party) for decades. she has also traveled with her quilting friends the world over to meet and learn from other fabric artists. she is always looking for new inspiration.
(FIFTY-SEVEN years later my mother is still married to her “problem” - she STILL isn’t bored!)
prioritizing her art and encouraging me to nurture and explore my creativity has been a tremendous gift…one of many from my mother. HAPPY, HAPPY 80th BIRTHDAY (in two days) to my beautiful, creative, independent, stubborn, inspirational, funny, WONDERFUL mother. we LOVE you so! x0x0x0x
