Items

• 
  2020-12-01

  The Covid Quilt

  This is my Covid Quilt. When the lock down started I ordered a bunch of different fabrics to make masks with. The fabric size that seemed to have the most value was called a fat quarter. After making my family a bunch of bright colored masks, I had so many squares of fabric left over I decided to save them. I was not sure why I was saving them though. By the end of this summer I had hundreds of squares and decided to make a quilt. This is my Covid quilt. You can see a years worth of colorful masks represented in it. I really wish I knew how to do embroidery. I would embroider the words, "Covid Quilt 2020" into it. I am not even a sewer. I took a class in high school over twenty years ago. Defiantly imperfect just like the year 2020. But it is warm and thick. I think I will try my best to take care of it.
• 
  2020-05-13

  Moving hands-on online

  Online Question and Answers session done with the School and Family Programs Manager at the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston. The piece reflects on the Virtual Quilt Project, as well as the experiences of being an arts and cultural heritage professional during the CoVid-19 pandemic. This object highlights how museums have been forced to change their practices in response to the pandemic, and the unexpected benefits from some of those changes at the Institute of Contemporary Art.
• 
  2020-04-16

  A Quilter's Masks in a Church Garden

  My friend Diane, who lives on my street in Washington Heights, Manhattan, is a quilter. I met her at her Lutheran church, a beautiful old stone building on our street, with a vegetable garden on one side. I’m Jewish, but the church has arts events, and we met that way. When I read that quilting cotton is the best material for homemade masks, I asked Diane if she could make two for me because I have asthma, which puts me at high risk for Covid complications. She said yes immediately because she was already making masks, and she invited me to the church garden, where I could retrieve them from a bench without getting close to her. The next day, with spring in all its glory, I found her sitting there with a mask on. With my face covered as well, I stood across the garden and had the first face-to-face conversation I’d had with anyone in several weeks, which was such a relief. And Diane said that because of her quilting, “I felt called to make masks.” With her generosity and those six words, what a surprise and consolation: Life in its richness had blossomed again, under the sun and flowering trees. Thank you, Diane.