Quilt art and finding my fortune

LJ meme: "Name a book you own that no one else on your friends list does."


From Pookie, written and illustrated by Ivy Wallace (William Collins, 1946; HarperCollins, 2000):

Pookie told him his adventures and asked once more, "Please, what does a Fortune look like?"

"It doesn't look like anything," said Nommy Nee.

"That's no help. How can I find my Fortune if I can't see it?" grumbled Pookie.

The elf thought for a long time, and then he smiled. "No one can see it, Pookie. A Fortune just is something, something different for everyone. For some it is Money, for some it is Health and for some it is Love."

"I'm very healthy and I don't need much money," said Pookie, "so my fortune must be Love."'

~~~~~~~~~~

It all started with those elderberries six weeks ago. They reminded me of Nommy Nee. I did a web search for Pookie. When I discovered it had been reprinted, I had to have a copy. That was my fortune of the moment.

Friday afternoon a parcel came in the mail. I knew what it was, and hastily pried the cardboard open as soon as I got in the car. There, with a fresh, clean cover was the book that disappeared when I was a little boy. I flipped through the pages–colourful illustrations I remembered so well. The little wandering rabbit finds his way through goblin market, spread with tables of vegetables and wares. A small goblin measures a new jacket for a big goblin.

Over here Pookie lies asleep on the doorstep of Nommy Nee's toadstool, his new elf friend standing with a lantern shedding light on a furry, white figure. And there at last was Pookie, nearly frozen to death, cradled beside a hearth by Belinda, the woodcutter's daughter who mended his broken heart and first told him his wings were beautiful.

Pookie is a coming-out story. He is no ordinary rabbit. He has two wispy wings sprouting from his shoulders. He would rather be awake at night when the elves and fairies are dancing through Bluebell Wood. But his brothers and sisters make fun of him, and even his mother shakes her head at those wings—such nonsense! So Pookie learns to hate his wings, until at last in despair he runs away in search of his fortune.

Not until he finds someone who loves him the way he is do those wings grow to their proper stature and become functional.

I could hardly remember the story, but the pictures are just as I remembered them. And when I read that passage to Danny—the part where Pookie meets Nommy Nee and finds out what a fortune really is—I started to choke up.

In Guelph this weekend we had the Arts Festival and Studio Tour. Danny and I went around to see many local artists and their work. The highlight for me: yesterday we stopped at the home of Marilyn Clarke, a quilt and fabric artist. I have only become aware of quilts as art since I started to piece together my own watercolour quilt a few years ago. Marilyn also told us about Lorraine Roy, who has created quilts depicting tulip trees, shining sumac and the various rare and endangered tree species of Ontario's threatened Carolinian Forest (Saving Paradise).

Next weekend we're going to see Roy's exhibit at the Rebecca Gallery in Toronto (Satin and Steel).

After that we went to the Bookshelf coffee shop and had banana ginger muffins with Earl Grey tea (Danny) and macchiato (me). Then we sat and talked for a couple hours while autumn rain blustered past the Quebec Street shops.

Pookie and Nommy Nee sat one night in the house under a toadstool eating buttercup biscuits and strawberry jam. They talked about fortunes.

I always knew from a very young age what I wanted most was the kind of friendship in which I could be myself, with nothing to hide. Nothing to pretend except beautiful things, the kinds of things two friends imagine.

University of Guelph Arboretum (Monday evening special)

This is the first of two instalments of photos taken Saturday afternoon when I went out with Danny. This first set was taken at the Arboretum. With fall colour at its peak here, we took time out from the Studio Tour for a walk. The weather was particularly autumnal: blustery and unpredictable, rainy deluges giving way to gashes of sunlight and racing clouds. We were told it hailed, too, probably while we were in Wimpy's eating lunch. Finally we saw a rainbow from the windows of the Trafalgar Building, a site of many artist studios. djjo's shots of that were more interesting than mine. My set of downtown photos will follow tomorrow.








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The final photo shows what used to be the largest stand of mature white pines in this part of Ontario. It was decimated by a tornado about 15 years ago. About half of the large trees still visible here are spruce.

A year ago August a tornado struck a nature reserve near our cottage, on the border of Algonquin Park, and decimated the most significant remaining stand of old growth white pines in the area. Their location was quite remote, so I had never seen them, although my Dad and I canoed and hiked within a few kilometres of them several years ago.

Mother Nature is perverse.