oceans of patchwork. my hands are always in it. my clothes covered in thread. the fabrics smile at me and we work together. step by step. methodically but with excitement. i recognize patterns and i'm drawn to certain colors.
i long to see the squares pucker and fade and soften. but that takes time. years. so i move on, sewing until it's thick and soft and will cover a bed. until it will smooth over a sleeping child. until it will form around a young girl's dreams. or wrap tightly around a couples love. or keep company with a single sleeper. rise and fall and grow warm. smell like warm sleepy breath. the colors blending and fading with the years. making friends and simply tolerating others. there is life in the quilts. there is a pulse. it's what keeps me at it day after day after day.

i'm feeling the momentum build as i work steadily in the studio. my workroom is busy and chaotic. and the days of sewing are full and productive. towers of freshly cut squares. tea towels. little lavender pillows from fabric scraps. and piles of quilts. quilts of all sizes. it makes me happy watching each quilt emerge with it's own combination of color and pattern. almost as soon as they are made, they are sold. there is a satisfaction knowing they are loved in their new homes. and i am tired even while exhilerated.

edgar got me up at 2.30 this morning. barking at the sounds of night in the backyard through the open window. i didn't fall asleep again until 4.30, and then he was up again at 5.15. he was just restless and wanted to go outside. so i came out with him and slept for 4 delightful hours swaying under quilts on the porch swing. it was wonderful. he woke me up a few times barking, but the birds and the squirrels and the twitter of the leaves with the scent of peonies and climbing roses and honey locust trees all lulled me right back to sleep. and when i was finally awake for the day i lay on the swing watching wave after wave of mist float into the garden. at first i was worried the studio was on fire. and then maybe our very own house, because it was as dense as smoke. but it was a soft pale mist blowing past in waves. what a lovely way to wake up. and although i imagine it will be a groggy day, i loved the way it started.
oh yes, writing this made me forget that 1/2 an hour ago, stella and floyd brought a snake into the living room that is now in our cold air return vent. the drama of the day has begun!!!!

i'm wrapped up in a quilt. the whole family is actually. tom has gone to bed where a quilt is laid across the bed, giving the perfect weight to the duvet, winter and summer. edgar and stella are curled up together on the couch with a quilt thrown over them to help them sleep through the night. and i'm sitting with the computer on my lap under a quilt tucked around my feet and pulled up to my chin. i didn't find my way home until after 10 tonight and although i'd rather be reading right now, i only had the brain power to stare at the computer screen while i snacked on grape tomatoes and tzatziki. i'm looking forward to a full day in the studio tomorrow, making new quilts to add to the shop for mother's day. we've been working so steadily at the house that i'll need to build my sewing momentum again. but i'm eager to start compiling little colorful squares, layering them in just the right order to patch together into a quilt top. each one is always a bit of a surprise as they take shape from piles of squares, to a top, then adding the back and then finally the edge so it's fully dimensional. a surprise, yes. but also, each one is consistently warm and fresh and smiling.

the lake is open, with only tiny crystal islands left floating. i missed my favorite part of spring this year when the lake beneath collides with the ice above and illicits great groans and baritone whimpers. and yet the air is cold this morning. we are still enjoying fires.....wood in the living room during the evening and the bright little gas stove in the dining room and kitchen for the early mornings. a little boost of heat when we need it.
i'm making quilts. lots of quilts. and journals. i may have naomi chirping about the studio with me today. and there is a lovely neighborhood gathering tonight for earth hour. it will be a good day.

i've been sewing in silence the last few days. i often have long stretches of silence in my life and it's quite a gift. i love the sounds of the village pulsing around me. and the ideas that race through my head. i'm fortunate to have the time as i work to follow these intrigues. and lately i am fascinated with the fact that i have made a career out of making quilts. to me, it feels like another version of the world's oldest profession. and it represents for me something so beautifully strong and feminine and true. taking scraps of fabric and fashioning them into embracing quilted blankets to wrap around the ones we love, warming our children and snuggling with our lovers. it feels like through my work, i am threaded to centuries of women and it seems to funnel their strength to me, which i attempt to pass on.
thankfully we had the generations of women who worked hard to improve their children's lives along with their own. the women who fought for the vote, the women who kept factories running during wars. these were the women i feel linked to in a very real way as i sew. women who opened doors for us as a society; the women who made a difference before the sexy media blitz that coined the term feminism. i relate to these women who made a difference by doing what they felt they could do without relying on idealistic rhetoric to fuel them. idealism is nice to have sitting on your shoulder, whispering in your ear. but as soon as one listens too closely and repeats too loudly, it becomes the big ugly bully that distracts from reality.
so, while i get lost in thought, creating quilts i intend to sell instead of wrap around my own family, i'm so glad i have my grandmother's quilt across the room with her tiny stitches and wonderful bright colorful scraps, to look at throughout the day and keep the thread of reality pulsing through all i do.

february. sluggish and cold. a blizzard with an accompanying snow day. the beginning of a new house renovation project. demo and planning. too much driving on snow-covered and slippery roads. hours of repetitive shoveling. frozen pantlegs and then once inside, wet pantlegs. a pile of baby quilts, finished and folded. wonderful long cozy hours in the studio cutting squares for quilts and watching mad men. middle of the week chili night with our neighbors that made it feel like a weekend on wednesday. my first haircut in 1o months. a wonderful book i forgot i had ordered, arrived. and now tom is playing the guitar and singing, ending the week perfectly. it's been a good week.

it seems that my studio is my own grown up playroom that is stocked with enough potential activities to keep me busy for an unlimited amount of time. i have walls of fabric and a room of paper and scissors and glue and sewing machines. and floating above all the busy-ness, i have 'the waltons'. they are as much a part of the process that sends quilts and journals and napkins and pillowslips out into the world as the sewing machine or the paper room. the soundtrack of my little workshop that pulses through the work is the story of a depression-era family living in rural virginia. i love the waltons. i remember watching its first season as a child. and it's hold on me is the same now, almost 40 years later. i love loving certain members of the family, especially grandpa. and i love despising john-boy.....complete with rolling my eyes and sometimes yelling at the screen. i defend myself laughingly with everyone who walks in and chuckles as i'm forced to pause my constant loop of waltons dvds. well yesterday i discovered a soulmate in 7 year old naomi. she and her mom were heading out shopping and dropped in to say hi. but naomi got sucked into a season 7 episode.....when maryellen's husband curt is killed in pearl harbor. naomi ended up staying with me while her mom went shopping. we watched 3 episodes while i continued to sew. she didn't get bored and only asked me to explain the characters. it was a lovely rainy afternoon.

november. rain blurred windows and edgar refusing to leave the porch. with our canopy gone, it makes the walk between houses during the rain, even rainier. edgar likes to use the canopy to do his business without getting wet during summer rains and i just love the luxury of it. but now, the leaves are gone and we are open to the sky. bare branches. no coverage. the branches are beautiful. wet bark gray silhouettes against the sky.

i sewed all day. surrounded with colorful fabrics, quilts and napkins and aprons. meagan gave me steamed milk for my tea at lunch. and of course, i watched the waltons. more of the same tomorrow. i love the routine of sewing that has happened the past few weeks. it is my grandmother's 105th birthday today. always a day i notice and remember. i think of her so often, and when i sew it seems she's with me. i miss her alot and feel so fortunate to have spent so much time with her.

beating rain and a singing sewing machine

a full day in the studio today. mostly dark and gray, heavy rain and wind wheezing around the house. i finished a quilt and made another quilt top. and then enjoyed an hour or two taking photos of items to list in my shop. and then suddenly the light shifted and from the back window there was this stunning tangle of branches and stone and sky and light.

i listed a boy baby quilt as well as a gorgeous girl baby quilt and i added several baby bloomers.

i will try to finish some embroidery to list tomorrow. but first i need to clean the kitchen and make myself a cup of chamomile tea.

since christmas i've been doing alot of paper stuff. the kind of work that i can lose myself in for days and days with piles of yellowed pages fluttering all around me. but last week i made a few quilts. and realized how it balances me to make a few quilts a week. i have a bright one listed on etsy. and a neutral one as well. quilts make me happy.