I’m a crybaby, always have been and will continue to be but I don’t normally get emotional at museums. Well, I wished someone would love told me to bring the tissues. Recently I traveled to Little Rock, Arkansas, first stop, Old State House Museum. Perhaps one day I’ll learn to research what’s on display BEFORE I visit but I’ll admit I’m lazy. However I think y’all know that already.
No secret, I love anything black people related. So I damn there bust out in the ugly cry for the A Piece of my Soul: Quilts by Black Arkansans exhibit. I remember being a young girl and snuggling up to the quilt that my grandmother, Theo Western, kept close. If I close my eyes and concentrate I can almost remember every single square. I’m embarrassed that I never inquired about each patch and the significance. My grandmother has since passed but I was able to find pride in her and this exhibit. Fun Fact: Quilts could weight as much as fifty pounds!
The museum has at minimum two hundred Quilts and proceeds to rotate the Quilts so all can be displayed. Yall know I’m super hyped to return. Growing up did you experience the magic of Quilts?