Which makes sense. When you think about it, we're all pretty good at measure. Think of tipping your head while looking at a picture on the wall and saying, "That's not quite level" ... then confirming it with a level, as if you really needed it.
For years I have reveled in clean-the-fridge cooking, where there always seems to be the right amount needed for a pasta or a salad, a soup or a sandwich. I made bread at my daughter's recently and there was just enough bread flour in the bag for what I needed. I love it when that happens.
But it takes practice to trust one's gut, to accept the unexpected, to internalize the measure of things.
And so ... Triangulation was a huge leap of faith for me. Made without measuring, without a plan ... strips of cloth torn and woven together ... then stitched and stitched and stitched again until its integrity was sure in my hand ... then wrapped around a piece of stuffing that had been free-cut from an old body-length pillow months before ... finally safety pinned and ladder stitched together.
Resting at last on the couch, a-side ...
or b-side, depending on how it falls ...
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The top seam more obvious ...
the back seam less so (it's the second from the right) ...
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There is much to be said for not measuring.
