Patched thoughts

I’ve been musing on patches and patching, jotting down words and phrases and thinking about what they represent. ‘Patch’ is our current prompt in No Rules Textile Society.

Something that seems to come and go through time and space, a patchy signal

Something that mends or fixes, sometimes integrating almost invisibly with what remains, sometimes standing out boldly, patching a hole in a loved garment, a software patch.

A space that’s distinct from its surroundings, has its own identity. Sometimes wildness adjacent to husbandry, a nettle patch, a bramble patch. Sometimes the work of nurturing hands, a strawberry patch, a cabbage patch.

A sense of boundaried territory, possession, your patch, my patch, home patch.

A small piece of stuff that will be joined to others, colours that merge or contrast, sizes and shapes that fit together, patchwork.

A repair with connotations of the temporary, using whatever is to hand, patching up.

A means of slowly releasing a needed substance into the body, a hormone patch, a nicotine patch.

A way to test for an adverse reaction, a patch test

Something compared and found wanting, this isn’t a patch on that

Something difficult but transient, hopeful, going through a bad patch

Light highlighted by shadow or contrast, a patch of sunlight

A stain or blemish, the brown patch from spilled tea, the red from wine.

A covering, an eye patch, a beauty patch

An absence, a bald patch, a bare patch

Something to beware of, a patch of ice.

A visible, useful and sometimes decorative addition, a patch pocket.

I patched some fragments together yesterday, for the first time in a long time, feeling very grateful for all the inspiration from Jayne Emerson | Fabric Recipes and the members in No Rules Textile Society to just start somewhere.

And some quotes from my commonplace book:

Whatever hole within him he had hoped to patch with the stitches of power still gaped.
Carissa Broadbent, Children of Fallen Gods

I sometimes use patching as a way of mending a fragile or worn fabric, but more often to represent an interruption in a surface or to create detail. I like to add small patches onto a larger background cloth, breaking up a solid area in an artwork. …Using only a very small amount of a richly patterned or detailed fabric seems to have the effect of elevating it to something precious, whereas if used in any quantity the cloth would have been gaudy or overwhelming.
Hannah Lamb, Poetic Cloth

… the robes of the “patchwork monks” who slept enveloped in the smell of pine trees. The sewing of these robes was described by one monk as “the sewing of one cloud to another.” This is the way our lives are put together, one piece, one moment at a time.
Gary Thorp, Sweeping Changes

Faerie and the Mortal Realm lie one atop the other, like two pieces of fabric, separate but together. In places, the boundaries are weaker, like patches in the fabric, and Faerie shines through. In others, the doors to Mortal are closed so firmly that you would never know what lies beneath the surface.
AJ Lancaster, The Lord of Stariel

And any small acts of transformation are among the most human things we do. Whether its nudging dried leaves around a patch of cement, or salting a tomato, we feel, when we exert tiny bits of our human preference in the universe, more alive.
Tamar Adler, An Everlasting Meal

I’m very interested in perceptions of value and in different ways of expressing what we value in alternative and flexible kinds of exchange. I love experimenting with ‘gift economy’ ideas like ‘pay it forward’ and ‘pay what you wish’. I intend to keep all my posts freely available for everyone - please share them wherever you like.

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