As a child I loved pretending I was a maiden living in the woods. I built my very own fort on the ground in a small circle that had about 6 - 8 small saplings growing. I cut down smaller saplings to wind them in between the growing trees to make my fort. Later on, as I grew more, the shape of sapling fort took on a semi roof and the ground inside the circle of trees became trodden with so much activity the grass didn't grow anymore. It was my escape to my own queendom in the woods of rural B.C.
Rural living means knowing the important trails you've found that lead to yummy things to eat. Its very important to know where food is at certain times of the year. With trails trodden so many times that even the animals start to use them, its exciting to imagine who you'll meet on the trail.
Maps of these locations are made in your memories, First People know well their trails to trap lines, good fishing spots, to the meadows where moose will be or the mountains where sheep will be.
I have a very good book to share called "One Thousand White Women" by Jim Fergus. A true story of an peace agreement between USA Government at the time and the bargain they made with with the Cheyenne Nation for peace and one thousand white women to become brides Cheyenne warriors, traded for their finest horses.
Food and water is paramount to survival in the woods.
This post and challenge has become something of a true walk down memory lane, maps for me until I met my husband, were memories in my mind on trails to walk to town or walk to a good fishing spot. What the trail looked like to my friends who lived miles away, but a path was trodden between our homes. Quilts are like too, they remain, get used, loved and become threadbare.But we continue to use them.
This facination with trails may have begun when my Mother instilled in me a fear of roads where bad men could be. Over the past 30 years, Highway 16 has seen the mysterious disappearance of dozens of Indigenous women. I am sadden to understand that the same roads my Mother warned me about are these roads where not only Indigenous women, but also men and white women have dissappered. Mother knew there was something bad happening on that road and that was 50 years ago.
I began with total improvisational hand stitching onto a background. More trails are coming out of this start. Stay tuned!
Thank you ladies of AHIQ Improvisational group for inviting me to participating!
Best,
6 comments:
I think this challenge is becoming a walk down memory lane for many of us. You've got a very interesting beginning on your quilt. I look forward to seeing your progress. Thanks for the book suggestion too.
I read the book and understood that it was a made up story, but something that COULD have happened.
Very frightening about that road, that is for sure. Never walk alone!
Memories are made up of events and experiences. My life has revolved around using maps to get to lakes, rivers and special spots that many of the best places on earth are not shared on social media.
Books are meant to inform and prompt conversations, sitting around the camp fire listening to what might have been and going forward to helping understand different cultures and ideas.
I agree this mapping challenge is for some a walk down memory lane, all quilts promote seeing things differently and we celebrate diversity espcially in this challenge.
Thank you for visiting the links provided.
I'm glad you are joining in with this and putting your own unique spin on it. Your rural childhood sounds lovely so I'll be looking forward to seeing where this walk down memory lane takes you.
Your post is so powerful, Caroline. Maps/roads/trails leading to either life or death. There is a lot to explore in this simple word. I look forward to reading more about your thoughts and viewing your work on this broad subject. The responses from this invitation amaze me. Thanks for posting.
Your description of place (and palace) is beautiful and vivid. You definitely knew those trails. So sad there was a darkness behind your mom's reasoning. But your memories, filled with joy and happiness and forts and berries and fish, are wonderful! Only a child from a rural area could understand that kind of freedom.
I've been thinking--brainstorming and prewriting if you will--about my own map quilt. One idea that keeps coming back has to do with the little farm where I grew up. Have you guessed what this post has done? Yep, it's there again. Stronger than ever. It seems that each time I read a map post some word or idea brings me back to the place of my childhood.
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