empty white dreary and decrepit bathrooms. they speak to me somehow. chipped and rusty fixtures. a loneliness emanating from the sink. floating at the perfect height to lean on, be supported by. and yet repulsive. the most personal of fixtures, passing through generations. faucets that are stiff and unable to open. a green blotch of oxidized rust and a cracked mirror. such a human story.
i feel like quilts are alive. they reflect all the little joys that make life special. they emanate love and warmth. the quilts i make blend a grandmother's ideals with a fresh youthful flair. there is a nostalgia for seasons past combined with hopefulness for a bright full future. you can find me online at www.chasinglightningbugs.com