[Still Life with Lamplight (1946) Leonard Greaves (1918-1949), in The Hepworth, Wakefield]
I have moved my sewing machine on to the kitchen table to be nearer to music, radio, kettle, fruit bowl, ironing board, biscuits, and flowers. But it's also so that I can sew in the glow of the deep pink walls and the little lights dotted around the ceiling. As the light fades outside, the kitchen becomes warmer and cosier, brighter and more colourful, and I've realised this is the nicest place in the house for twilight quilting.
I'm just about to start a new quilt, having finally finished the one I was making with Charley Harper fabrics, and see that the pile of possible fabrics matches the palette of the painting perfectly. Maybe I'd carried it around in my head, maybe it's a coincidence, but I pretty sure it's mostly because autumn evenings need as much glow as possible.
(quilt pattern in The Gentle Art of Quilt-Making)
(Just to explain. Earlier this year I decided to collect together as many evocative, poetic, atmospheric references, descriptions, and images of dusk as I could find, so that when the short days arrived I would have plenty of positives to bolster me and to enable me to see what's good about this time of year. It's a sort of self-help collection, a dusk anthology. And it's working well.
I found the lovely painting above and put it in my file and when I was looking again just now, I saw that the colours match my fabrics - and the quilt (above) now on our bed which makes the whole room glow at any time of day, not just twilight.)