Beauty and Pain in a modern day quilt

  STian's "rag-rug" creation in Vancouver, BC  

I am looking at two friends' work of art which they dedicated in my honor. I am flattered and spellbound by the amount of work they put into creating an ultra-modern quilt, a "rag-rug." At 1.00 am this morning, the image that flashed across my mind was a bed of hibiscus flowers.They are beautiful to watch, gentle and almost silky to the touch. They die quickly if plucked away too soon from their source. Their beauty seems eternal to me. At the quilt show where this creation was presented, viewers are not allowed to stroke or touch the 'objets d'art'. Many felt inclined to touch my friends' work. Though I haven't seen it as yet; I think the silk caught their eyes. It surely did mine's. My friends' description reminded me of one of the great pioneers of modern architecture and design, Mies van der Rohe, who famously observed: "God is in the details." The back of the work has two layers of shiny taffeta with course canvas on top, quilted together. The front has lines of cord stitched to a silk ground with a padding behind. My photo does not do justice. What equally fascinates me are the brass milagros sewn into the fabric: a cowrie shell, a key, a fairy, a sacred heart. How can a labor of love and pain come alive on paper? Words are inadequate. To see art in everyday life is not the gift of the few. It can be as natural as breathing and the beating of the heart. The artistry of this magnificent piece of work speaks a lot from the inner workings of the artist himself.

   There is so much love sewn here. I am totally blown away by the hours of intensity. Pain is not to be dismissed so easily. I am thinking of the Impressionist painter Renoir, born 1841 and died in 1919. In his senior years, crippling arthritis ravaged the artist's hands. Seeing his master in pain, Matisse, his most talented student, asked him: "Sir, why do you continue to paint? Surely it is not for money or fame?" Renoir replied: "the pain passes but the beauty remains."

The artist had a tremendous love of life, painting portraits of his friends frequently.

   I think whenever I look upon this work of my friends I will choose to remember less of the pain that inspired it. Though I know it will always be there. But like the quivering brightness of a 'Renoir' I will remember its beauty.