Have you ever received something handmade?

A quilt, a piece of art, a knitted scarf, maybe even a home cooked meal from a friend. Not store bought, but something that was made with the intention of giving it to you. Something that took time and care.

Do you still have it? Or maybe you just remember how it felt to receive it.

That’s why I quilt.

Of course, for me, quilting is also just the simple joy of piecing together fabrics to make something functional and beautiful. But ultimately, what carries me to the finish line is the thought of it being received.

I like to imagine the life of that quilt once it leaves my studio. Maybe it will bring someone happiness that they finally found something to fill that blank space on that wall, or that they finally found the perfect throw that completes their room. Maybe it’s a gift for a friend’s new baby…something they will grow up with. I think about all these stories as I’m making, with the hopes that the recipient can feel the care and intention I put into it.

I remember the first time I really felt that, it was my bridal shower. Everything felt a bit chaotic with so many changes happening in my life. But in the middle of opening gifts, I opened one from my grandma - a handmade quilt. 

It instantly brought me to tears. 

She was a seamstress, definitely not a quilter, but she spent months making this quilt to give to me. I couldn’t stop thinking about the time it must have taken. And it wasn’t just the quilt, it was the thought that someone spent time and care making something for me.

I think about that day often and how it made me feel. I know I’ll have that quilt for a long time. It’s meant to be used, though I have it stored for safe keeping in the meantime.

And now when I’m making something, I think beyond just the finish line. I think about where it’s going, who it’s for, how it will be used…and how it will make someone feel.

Fast forward 3 years to March 2020. Like many others, I was unable to work but eager to keep myself busy. On a whim, I ordered a sewing machine. My grandma taught me how to sew when I was much younger, but never quilting. It felt like reaching back for something that seemingly was engrained in my history long ago. It was never a question of if I could do this, but how I could make it my own. Like I had this part of me just waiting for the right time and way to resurface.

A few days later a sewing machine arrived on my doorstep.

Around that time, I came across a modern quilt that shifted my whole perspective on what a quilt could be. 

I think it took me a month to make a simple patchwork design for my first quilt. But it gave me something to return to every day with a goal to work toward: a finished quilt. We still use that quilt now, and when I see it I’m reminded of that time, and how much has changed since.

After that first quilt, I found myself returning to quilting again and again. What started as something to pass the time slowly became a way to spend my time. I was no longer rushing towards the finish line, but enjoying the process.

Yes it’s my hobby, my craft, my work…but it’s also reframed how I think about things. 

I still think about how it felt receiving that quilt. And I carry that with me now when I’m making for someone else, whether it’s for a friend or a stranger.

Through the design process, fabric selection, piecing, quilting, and finally packing it up to send off, I’m thinking about where it’s going next. I’m only with it for a short time, but it goes on to become part of someone else’s home, their memories, their life.