When my mother-in-law passed, we had to dispose of mountains of her artistic supplies.  I don't think I ever appreciated how much time and energy she sent in her art work or how diverse her interests were.  I spent most of Superbowl Sunday sorting and bagging and stacking and spreading.  There were beads and gemstones and pieces of silk and velvet, $40 scissors and long tweezer things for sliding stuffing into the hands of handmade dolls.  There were cookbooks done as scrapbooks and pieces of dragon tales.    I was more than a little overwhelmed, in more than one way.  (Thank you, Lori, for helping to organize and distribute the beading supplies.  That was way over my head.) 

 

Neither of my sisters-in-law sew, so I was bequeathed anything from MomA's sewing stash that I wanted.  There were piles and piles of fabric, so much so that I just sort of started picking up stacks and wrapping them in plastic bags.  It was only when we got home with it all that I began to go through it all, and then I had sort of an epiphany regarding her artistic capacity all over again.  There were so many beautiful pieces of fabric, so many gorgeous patterns and colors. 

 

Some felt Renaisancish (or maybe they were just reminiscent of the 70s.  I don't know.)

Some felt classical.  (Still life on cotton, anyone?)

Some felt multi-ethnic to me.  The pattern on this one feels very Asian, but the colors feel very Delft.  (I might try to make a blouse out of it if I can find the right pattern.)

Some she hand-dyed. 

Some were obviously intended for very specific projects.

As I was filing and bagging and just looking, I felt an almost overwhelming urge to drop everything and devote my life to quilting until I had done justice by all of those magnificient pieces of fabric.  There were technicolor horses and water color florals, Jungle cats, starfish, and even a dinosaur pattern.  I had been wondering how I was going to continue my newfound hobby of quilting, but now I know.  Thanks, Mom.