Scrap it
Once upon a time in a creative non-fiction writing class, we learned an analogy for using life experiences to inspire our writing. I’ve been to lots of writing workshops and classes, but the image inspired in this class really spoke to me—probably because I love to make quilts. In that class, we learned to consider our memories as a big glass jug filled with snippets of the people, places, and events we’ve experienced like a great glass cannister brim-full of quilting scraps.
Can’t you see it sitting there, bits and pieces of all different colors and patterns, shapes and sizes of fabric? My cannister is thick, clear glass, wavy and handblown, with a lid made of the same thick glass. The bits of fabric inside range from sweet pastels and brightly-colored happy-patterned pieces to dark scraps with ragged edges.
None of them are big enough or significant enough to stand alone.
The trick, the professor told us, was to know which pieces to extract to tell the story we wanted to tell. We could, of course, pull them all out and patch them all together without rhyme or reason. But who would want to read that? Or we could carefully and intentionally pull out the ones that best illustrate what we wanted to write about, and combine them in a meaningful, purposeful way.
Sometimes, he warned, we might select something without fully realizing what we’d find hidden inside until we worked with it and examined it more closely. Like a sculptor with their marble slab.
Either way, selecting the pieces we wanted to use would inspire a vision of what we would create with it. It would be the writer’s choice whether to pick the happy patterns or the dark, damaged pieces to base their work on.
The next step in the process was to arrange the pieces with other bits—memories or insights—that give definition and meaning to the chosen pieces. Balancing the dark with light, incorporating the ragged to highlight the beauty of the smooth and flawless, a vision of the pattern we wanted to create would guide our choices.
Finally, we would combine all the elements the way a quilt-maker would bind the pieced-together quilt top to the backing in a structure that would make it strong and durable, warm and beautiful.
What a perfect analogy for writing! I could see how the selection, pattern, and structure in creative non-fiction could extrapolate a meaning from an experience. It also helped me see how everything in fiction, from setting to characters to plot, had to be selected carefully and intentionally arranged to bring about the result intended by the writer.
But then, I began to see the quilt scraps as an analogy for more than writing. More, it seemed to me an analogy of life, and how to create a meaningful existence.
Most of us have to pull out scraps to build our lives with. Few of us are able to decide exactly what type of pieces are tossed into that glass jar. Life doesn’t always hand us coordinated pieces of just the right size, shape, and color to create a beautiful pattern. Usually, we have to try several times before we know just what pieces to base our lives on. There are ragged bits of dreams, scraps of unraveled marriages, bodies that are torn and imperfect.
Still, we make the choices of which pieces we will focus our lives on, and just how we will use them.
Rather than discarding all those pieces that seem insignificant by themselves, we can arrange the light and dark pieces and give them all meaning and purpose.
Then, we can bind it together so our lives will be strong and durable. Warm. And beautiful.
Do you have bits and pieces in your life? Are there scraps left from former jobs, former relationships, previous experiences that are giving shape and color to the life you are leading now? How are they adding richness to the way you are living? Do you have a vision for what you are trying to make of it? Hold that Thought, or share them in the comments section, below.
For those of you who do not like to sew or write, here is a different application of the same principles: Bread Pudding—an old time favorite. As with most of my recipes, I got this from my mom. It takes scraps of dried bread, adds some milk and egg to bind it together, and sugar, spices, and raisins to add flavor. Top it off with a little Nutmeg Sauce, and there you have it. It’s warm and beautiful and a truly perfect ending for a winter day.
Bread Pudding
Heat to scalding: 2 cups milk
¼ cup butter
Pour over: 4 cups bread crumbs
Add: ½ cup sugar
2 eggs, beaten
¼ tsp. salt
½ cup raisins
½ cup chocolate chips (optional)
Pour into buttered 1-1/2 quart glass or ceramic casserole dish. Bake until knife inserted into center comes out clean. Serve warm with sauce. Bake @ 350 degrees 1 hr. (high altitude)
Nutmeg sauce:
Mix together in saucepan: 1 cup sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
Stir in gradually: 2 cups boiling water
Boil for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Then add: ¼ cup butter
2 tsp nutmeg.
Serve hot over bread pudding. And let me know if you loved it.
