My dubious- stenciling-turned-into-art-project is finished. It is messy, cluttered, random, un-colorful, and without focus. All things an art quilt should not be. But I love it. I love the way it hangs, the paint splattered binding, the layered shapes. And I truly loved all the hand stitching involved. I am still insecure about my "art", unsure of my voice. This piece is most likely not representative of where I am heading, but it made me appreciate the possibilities within imperfection and encouraged me to try something new. I am not sure where it will end up. Blurring the lines may stay here with me in a happy spot in our house, since its error-filled origins may not be as endearing to the uninitiated eye. To me it is a reminder of awakening.