Its always a pleasure when art work can help you to reflect and remember what used to be. My grandmother, Theo Western, had a quilt that I can picture so vividly, that was such a staple in her home. I remember curling up with her on the couch, and be bundled in that quilt. Thinking back on it, feels me with such warmth and comfort but sadness creeps in since my granny has since died, and her quilt, is now misplaced.

Last year I flew to Little Rock, Arkansas, and I feel head over heels for the city. Such a small place with so much history, and surprisingly culture. Just like last year, I had to revisit the Old State Museum, since museums are kinda my thing. In this particular exhibit, “A piece of my Soul” Quilts by Black Arkansans, displayed about ten quilts created by black women who were former slaves, as well as black freed women. The first time I saw this exhibit, tears flowed freely, I felt as close to my grandmother as I had in a long time. It still amazes me, that this simple garment has brought families together, in not just creating together, but in the warmth the quilt provides.

If any, what heirloom is passed down from generation to generation in your family?

Tristan J


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