Pricing quilts does not come easily. Sixteen yards of fabric, plus batting, starts the baseline for a king at two hundred dollars. I never remember to factor in thread which is a couple of spools at five bucks. More if it is sparkly. Twins and baby sized projects are less ambitious, and unless the fabric is batik can be a reasonable fifty. 

 

Then there is time. While I have never been the type to clock the minutes I have given enough attention to know that a queen sized one block wonder takes me eighteen hours start to finish, and a lap sized star half that. The steps that figure into the total include cutting, piecing, borders, sandwiching, quilting, and binding. Still, plunking a monetary value on something I truly enjoy makes me restless.

 

I know what my mechanic charges per hour, and the psychiatrist we take Ben to. Not exactly pocket change. But placing myself in a league of  professionals seems haughty somehow. Especially when I recall the work of such masters as Jinny Beyer and Paula Nadelstern. They can pay a month's rent with one quilt, and Paula lives in New York City. Or at least she did when she spoke to my guild awhile back. She began her career in a teensy apartment, lifting the Singer featherweight onto the compact kitchen table, working until dinner, then setting it underneath to make room for pasta. She could never stand back far enough in her own living room to see the quilt spread out, which was tragic since she makes kaleidoscopes that rival the Fourth of July.

 

But there is one line item I never seem to factor in. Thinking. Unless I am recreating the same quilt for the umpteenth time, there are decisions to make. Colors to stare at. Fabrics to audition. I lay blocks out on my floor and contemplate them. Rearrange them. Listen to them. 

 

While it may appear that nothing is happening, and I come from a lineage that puts a premium on action, maybe something actually is. 

 

There are other endeavors that need a margin for wondering. Being able to step back far enough to see the whole picture, to tilt your head and keep quiet. It might make everything more beautiful.