Beautiful Birch Bark
"I hope you fall in love
With someone who always texts back and never lets
You fall asleep thinking you’re
I hope you fall in love with someone
Who holds your hand during the scary parts of
Horror movies and burns
Cookies with you when you’re
Too busy dancing around the
I hope you fall in love with
Someone who sees galaxies in your eyes
And hears music in your
I hope you fall in love with someone who
Tickles you and makes you smile
On hard days and on easy
But beyond all that I hope
You fall in love with someone
Who will never leave you behind
And who will never take you
For granted, someone who
Will stand by you when you’re
Right and stand by you
When you’re wrong,
Someone who has seen you at your worst
And has loved you
I hope you fall in love
With someone who
Kisses you in the rain
And hugs you in the cold and
Wouldn’t have you any other
The material has been hand dyed with turmeric, tea and onions skins. Then hand printed with lino cuts to represent the larvae, workers, drones and the single queen bee. The quilt was then then pieced, quilted and bound by hand.
The bees are arranged in a rough imitation of the structure of a hive: the queen is surrounded by workers, each drone and larvae are attended by their own workers, while others form a circle to represent a “bee dance” and some stand guard at the entrance to the hive.
I wanna make this!
SHOUTOUT TO THAT ONE PERSON THAT HEARS YOU WHEN YOU’RE TALKING IN A GROUP AND SMILES OR REPLIES SO YOU DONT FEEL LIKE A TWAT
"Like a small café on the street of strangers— that’s love… its doors open to all.
Like a café that expands and
contracts with the weather:
if it pours with rain its customers increase,
if the weather’s fine, they are few and weary…
I am here, stranger, sitting in the corner.
(What color are your eyes? What is your name?)
How shall I call to you as you pass by,
as I sit waiting for you?)
A small café, that’s love.
I order two glasses of wine
and drink to my health and yours.
I am carrying two caps
and an umbrella. It is raining now.
It is raining more than ever,
and you do not come in.
I say to myself at last: Perhaps she who I was waiting for
was waiting for me, or was waiting for some other man,
or was waiting for us, and did not find him/me.
She would say: Here I am waiting for you.
(What color are your eyes? What is your name?
What kind of wine do you prefer? How shall I call to you when you pass by?)
A small café, that’s love…"