Now I finally get my chance to do what I've been dreaming of for years: blanketing a big, blank white concrete wall with a colourful quilt of triangles — with permission and for the long term, for a change. (My previous secret adventures in unauthorized craft-tagging in the public sphere were painted out within weeks.)
How a quilt will read when spraypainted on a concrete wall I have no idea. I've googled images using 'quilt' and 'graffiti' and 'mural' and haven't found any spraypainted quilts — at least, none that were created specifically with quilts in mind.
I'll get the 'why' part overwith here: This media mash-up of the visual of tactile, comforting quilts and the harsh process of spraypainting concrete infrastructure stems from my compulsion to visually link the personal with the public, the domestic with the industrial, the feminine with the masculine. Enough said.
Unlike putting together a quilt, which is pretty much pre-planned (all the fun is in choosing the colour and pattern and the rest is pretty much mechanical, which is why so many quilts are started but abandoned), the spraypaint process is additive and more open-ended. It could all go sideways. Or it could emerge as something entirely unexpected and new.
I'm in the thick of it now, relying heavily on my experience making complex quilts to reduce the intimidating scale of the job. It's all about focusing in, taking it on one block at a time, trying not to think about the work ahead. Eating that elephant one bite at a time.