I set out with a last minute, and seemingly unrealistic, goal: to design and make a quilt for QuiltCon in 8 weeks. What began as a test of my creativity and time management turned into a realization that sometimes the journey is more important than the destination.

The Quilt

I needed a project…something big…to keep my mind at ease. I noted the deadline to enter a quilt was a couple months away and I took stock of what quilts I could enter. I considered entering this quilt but feelings of inadequacy crept in. I worried it wasn’t exciting enough, that the colors weren’t interesting enough…which now as I write this, sounds completely ridiculous. It’s funny how we create these limitations in our own minds. I challenged myself to make a quilt specifically to enter, so adding a transparency effect in my existing design was a design challenge I hadn’t yet tackled.

When designing quilts, the best part for me is playing with color. I spent a couple days planning out the fabrics and how they could combine for the transparency effect (the method I would love to share some time!). To hold myself accountable as I began sewing, I started documenting the process on social media. The response was thrilling…every like and comment was a boost of dopamine to my eager mind. I felt like it quieted my feelings of self-doubt. 

To be honest, I don’t think I would have finished this quilt in time (if, at all) if not for the support of friends, family, and strangers on the internet. A few weeks into the rhythm of this project I received news that my Grandma, the woman who taught me to sew, was approaching the end of her life. Every Sunday I’d share updates on my projects of the week with her. She’d always ask where I got my talent from, with a grin because we all knew it was from her. 

Once I realized our time was limited I felt like this quilt became a chore, just an obstacle preventing me from focusing on something that actually mattered. How could I waste time making this when I should be focusing on her? Yet, she continued to ask for her updates and I felt like I needed to be able to share the finished quilt with her. 

Unfortunately things progressed much quicker than we expected and I was not able to finish the quilt in time to show her. 

I surprised myself that I was able to move onward with it. Looking back, I think it became something tangible I could focus on and it helped quiet my mind. I didn’t have to think or make decisions: just sew, iron, repeat. By the time I finished it, I could hardly look at it because it felt like a reminder of this difficult chapter of my life. As it turns out, it holds a lot more meaning to me than whatever the final result could have given me.

In any case, my quilt was submitted with 24 hours to spare. A weight lifted. A month later…accepted.

The Raleigh Buzz

Sitting in LAX on the day before QuiltCon, I felt like I was playing a game of “Where’s Waldo?” with fellow quilters. I carried a quilted tote in the hopes others could identify me as a fellow QuiltCon attendee. Maybe we blend in more than I thought…no one recognizably quilt-y.

I set out with the intention of going to the show for one full day, and the rest of my two nights in Raleigh to eat and explore. Upon landing, we immediately headed for barbeque dinner - a highlight of the trip. The next morning, show day, we picked up coffee and pastries at a local bakery with a quilt-y spirit - a great theme for the day!

As we walked into the convention center, there was an immediate buzz of excitement and joy. There’s something truly special about being in a room (a huge one!) filled to the brim with people who share the same passion as you. I held restraint upon entering, I didn’t want to run straight to my quilt. I wanted to spread out the excitement and give me something to look forward to.

We began to meander through the show quilts, I’ve never seen so many quilts in one place. I felt that self-doubt creep up again…so much talent in one room and how am I sharing this space with them? It’s not often we can see others’ work up close and personal, and I’m still buzzing from inspiration at seeing what people can imagine and create. And now, I see that there’s also so much talent not in this room. There’s only enough physical space for so many, limited by some factors outside of ourselves.

My quilt was entered in the “Modern Traditionalism” category, and once we entered that section I knew it was a matter of time before mine appeared. And there it was! I had pictured this moment a thousand times: when designing the quilt, piecing, quilting, photographing, submitting, getting accepted…and it was suddenly here. 

And there it…was? I expected to feel this surge of emotion that matched the weight of the last couple months, to be overcome with pride and achievement in the face of adversity. And I just felt content. 

It was an odd feeling. I had attached so much extrinsic weight to this physical object that I imagined I would feel so rewarded to see it once again. That giving some space and time in between seeing it would feel like a reunion with an old friend.

In actuality, I didn’t feel much. It felt like an honor to have it hanging in the show and I consider it my biggest quilting achievement thus far, but I realized that I missed the whole point of this quilt. I don’t need the validation of a quilt hanging to prove that the work is meaningful, this quilt already had meaning to me. This quilt had lived a thousand lives in my mind and studio before hanging in this room. So, we kept walking the show.

The rest of the day was an incredible blur…seeing the winners’ quilts, waiting in an hour-long line at Ruby Star (worth it!), picking up some fabrics and tools I’d been eyeing, and chatting with fellow quilters. 

I decided to visit my quilt one final time before leaving. From afar, I watched as others stood at my quilt…photographing it even. This quilt has brought me connection: sharing updates with my Grandma, posting updates on social media, telling everyone I know about it, and now with QuiltCon attendees in Raleigh. And maybe that’s the feeling I was searching for when we reunited once again: not pride or achievement, but the joy of feeling seen by a community I’m passionate about. It’s funny how seeing others, see my quilt through their eyes, made this quilt feel okay to look at once again. 

By the time we walked out of the convention center I began to feel lighter, yet eager to get home.

Looking Ahead

A week later, my quilt arrived back on my doorstep. I intend to hang it above my bed as a reminder.

I went into QuiltCon 2026 thinking this would be the beginning of an annual tradition, but I realized that this might actually be my last - at least as an entrant. It served a beautiful purpose for me during that 8 week sprint to the finish line, but it also taught me something I didn’t expect: creating work for the sole purpose of a show isn’t what fuels me.

I am a process quilter, through and through. The joy is in the making, and in the meaning a project gathers along the way. Raleigh was the destination, but the journey of making this quilt was the real reward.

So maybe this was my first and last entry. Not because it wasn’t worthwhile, but because I already got what I came for before I ever left for Raleigh. And for now, I'm content with that.

Chelsea