Summers at the grandparents' were some of the most joyful times in my life. Their big, old house and verdant yard were perfect for childhood adventures. Each room had its own character and I roamed through them all depending on my mood. I spent a lot of time in the basement which housed the ping pong table, the player piano and lots of books, but my favorite place was the attic. I wasn't allowed up there much, which probably accounts for it being so desirable. When I did go, I would follow Grandma in search of some archived item or box of old papers.
In my memory, the room is monochromatic, shades of brown. Even the sunlight streaming through the window was a caramel color. The attic was surprisingly clean but when the air moved you could see dust particles dancing in the sun. Of course it was warm, but not insufferable. It was a rich heat, like a sauna, with a deep, wood and paper scent. It still brings a smile when I remember...
"Grandma's Attic" is a whole cloth quilt: painted and then stitched. I hand wrote words in the planks of the floor: dreams, memories, joy, love, etc. This is one of the few times I have completed a quilt so quickly and I am certain it was the enthusiasm and depth of emotion I felt toward the subject matter.
I guess my muse is a sentimental girl!