A few weeks ago, an 86-year-old sewer messaged Maria to say she had a lot of beautiful fabric she couldn’t use because she couldn’t sew any longer. Marcia is a follower of Maria’s work and blog, as many other fabric creatives are. She lives in Eastern Pennsylvania.
She said she wanted to send two boxes of her best fabric to Maria if that was all right.
Sensing this was something special, Maria agreed but offered to pay for the shipping. Marcia wanted to ease Marcia’s expense and said that would be great; she appreciated that, and they worked it out. Marcia wrote later to say she had used a “get one free” coupon from FedEx to send one of the boxes.
Maria and I have both been self-motivated pioneers, in a way, of finding ways to use our blog to support our creativity and work without charging for it. These are both interactive blogs; they are, in a sense, continuing conversations with our readers. Our gamble was that people would support our work if we were open and authentic. At the time, that was a radical and risky bet.
I suppose it still is.
I accept donations for the blog and the Army of Good – this took a long while – and Maria does too when she thinks of it – but the blogs are and have been free and always will be free. So are my photos, which are a gift back to the people who support me and have stayed with me for many years.
My blog is evolving; I am working hard to learn from my mistakes and turn them into a safe, “warm,” dynamic, and creative space in a chaotic and sometimes frightening time. When I started the blog in 2007, I never imagined I would be taking pictures of flowers in my own personal garden and writing occasional columns about politics.
Maria has offered her own free gifts on her blog – her stories, videos, photographs, nature stories, and creative process. We mean for people who read us and support us to get something back in return. She works many hours to share things she is not paid to share. Her fellow fabric sewers appreciate this and often send her beautiful fabrics.
Marcia, a study in taste and grace, understood that all of the work Maria does comes from discarded or donated fabrics whose owners seek a chance at a second and dynamic life. They especially love to see their clothes appear in a quilt, potholder, or hanging piece.
I also love my blog; I see it as an effort to bring the memoir form of writing to blogging. I see it as my virtual memoir, continuing to my death. It is the story of a life, as is Maria’s blog. My inspiration was E.B. White, who wrote a column for the New Yorker from his farm in Maine, which he moved to later in his life.
It always touches both of us deeply when someone as creative and generous as Marcia takes the trouble to send Maria a message, pack up her precious fabrics, find the right boxes, package them carefully, and ship them to someone she knows will make beautiful, tasteful, and enduring use of them.
Marcia seems like a private person, and I have no wish to invade her privacy.
But even I could see how precious and beautiful the fabric she sent was. Maria was pleased to get it; it got her mind spinning. It’s a beautiful and thoughtful gift.
It makes us both happy about the work we do.
You and, hopefully, Marcia can see it in quilts, hanging wall pieces, and potholders for years to come.
Thanks, Marcia, for loving your work enough to give it another chance and for trusting the care Maria will give to it.
I think it’s seamstress – not sewer, and I don’t mean this in a condescending way at all. I think it’s a guy thing to not know this.
Luanne, she calls herself a sewer, and Maria calls her a sewer, so I’ll call her a sewer; your message manages to be both condescending and sexist simultaneously, full of knee-jerk assumptions. You insult Maria and the wonderful woman who sent her this gift.
P.S. I looked up the word “seamstress.” The term refers to women who made or repaired clothing. Neither Maria nor Marcia
is a seamstress or identifies themselves in that way. I don’t assume you or every other human on the planet should know that but somebody who writes a note like you did might bother to find out. Even a “guy” could do it.
Good morning, I read this word, sewer likely much as Luanne did and my gut reaction was the same thing. There are many other words to describe the things we do with needles, threads and machines that sew.
I looked up the word sewer in the online dictionary.
Here is the definition of the word sewer: noun
an underground conduit for carrying off drainage water and waste matter.
I think that we can easily agree that words matter and that this is not what you meant in your description. In a post about the kindness of others I find this reply to be both both harsh and unnecessary.
Joanne, I’m sorry, but we are not in the same space here.
Sewer is the word Marcia uses, and it is the word my wife Maria (a fabric artist with pride), and as someone who has written 26 books, I rarely take well to people who tell me that words matter since they have defined my entire life. I really don’t need to be lectured on that.
I don’t get to choose the words Marcia and Maria use to identify themselves, nor do you or your dictionary (cheap and irrelevant, like sending links). You and Luanne share the experience of being wrong.
I’d suggest Culturelle for your gut and wish you a speedy recovery. You aren’t the first person I’ve made sick to a stomach; indignation is not good for one’s health. But spare Marcia and Maria your desire to label them. Did your English teacher forget to tell you that many words have more than one meaning and are used in multiple ways? I know many sewers who call themselves sewers, my wife being one of them and most of her sewing friends.
Honestly, social media will signal the end of manners in the world. I am sincerely sorry you find me harsh and “unnecessary.” We’re not going to be friends. I didn’t care for your tone, which was superior and a bit pompous. I never do well when people lecture me. Social media lends itself to this kind of tension.
Below is the definition of a seamstress. Marcia does not make clothes. Neither does Maria. Do you really believe this ridiculous argument is either necessary or kind? You might want to get back to the dictionary.
“A seamstress is a person whose job involves sewing clothing. You could be a seamstress if you hem your own pants, but most seamstresses work in factories sewing garments using sewing machines..“
It was a blessing for Marcia to send the fabrics to Maria. Good fabrics are hard to come by. I am a quilter and sewer. I am asked to rehome fabrics for families who have family members who have passed. I cannot use all of it. I do find a place where it will be put to good use. My stash has been widdled down substantially as I use fabrics every day. I donate my quilts to many organizations. It feels good to be able to do this. I know Maria will enjoy her new findings.