Pattern Language – OccasionalPiece

“Every society which is alive and whole, will have its own unique and distinct pattern language; and further, that every individual in such a society will have a unique language, shared in part, but which as a totality is unique to the mind of the person who has it. In this sense, in a healthy society there will be as many pattern languages as there are people–even though these languages are shared and similar.

“…patterns are very much alive and evolving.”

from A Pattern Language, by Christopher Alexander, et al.

Santo Stefano, Bologna, Italy — dating back to the 5th century

I’ve been in another’s society’s pattern and language for the past week, and every day I felt as if there were a little pop! in the brain when I’d see something familiar…but not quite knowable. When the brick above resembled what I know as quilt block shapes, but I’m guessing the people of Italy didn’t have quilts like the ones we make in the fifth century. So what were these?

This sidewalk pattern reminded me of what Yvonne has done in her recent quilt. I was reading her posts on Instagram and every day I’d think of her as I walked by this pattern.

I definitely recognize the hexie-flower pattern, seen on a shop floor.

So recognizable, but with a twist of unfamiliarity. Here’s a 4-inch version of the center block, called Arrowhead:

Arrowhead 4″ templates Download

It wasn’t until it rained (darker area) that this tile underfoot because interesting. When wet, it looks like seed stitch punctuated by French knots.

I definitely recognize the chick wearing the spool of thread. Now these things are definitely in my territory.

Would we ever see a thimble and spool of thread in a high-end, fancy-schmancy store on a swanky retail avenue? Not likely. But here they honor the “art of craftsmanship,” and yes, I know, that referring to quilting as a craft can be a nails-on-the-chalkboard experience for some. But here, when it’s related to way-pricey bespoke shoes, I’m okay with the connection.

So the cream of all patterns — when in Florence — has to be in the Piazza del Duomo, with its cathedral, baptistry (front left) and bell tower (right). I wanted to take photos of every band, every design. I was in pattern heaven:

It also helps that we were waiting in line, held captive by the tourist experience, so I had the chance to study the designs a lot.

If I turn this screen pattern on a diagonal, it resembles the quilting pattern I chose for my new Christmas quilt.

If you have ever traveled to a pattern-rich place, do you do the same thing that I do? Try to figure out what patterns are workable, and which ones you could cart back in your memory or camera to try to spark what you are working on?

Or do you just let things empty out of your brain, letting things fall out and leaving them behind at home, and then slowly allow what you see to filter in? I’ve done it both ways, notebooks filled with sketches and cameras filled with snapshots. Some become quilts:

from the tiles of one of Gaudi’s houses in Barcelona, to my quilt Annularity.

While other things I see are just parked in the brain somewhere. (Do those side guards look like rabbits to you?)

The first thing I bring home with me is a way of cooking, like this bruschetta. It was not on the menu at the local trattoria, but we saw it served when the local postman sat down at the table next to us. The next day, my husband ordered it for lunch. Now you can bet I’m trying to find a good focaccia recipe. I have already purchased the tomatoes. And when my jet lag eases up, I’ll be in business.

Given my experiences with the moon lately, I so want to do something with these ideas that made my brain pop a little bit. Maybe that family who designed a crest also had an affinity with the heavens?

So welcome home to me, with a brain full of patterns, ideas, new sights, jet lag (which makes this post drift a little), food ideas, and hunger for Bologna’s own Majani chocolate. I’m sad to leave Florence and Bologna behind, yet happy to be back in my own bed, in my own place, back to my own pattern language.