“Death’s final and lasting gift to the living,

is an expanded vision of life itself”

-bruce springsteen

oh, my lucky stars. to be a quilt maker.

i’m utterly taken, by the sudden meaning of three layers of cloth, stitched together. the charm of patchwork and the mystery of pattern. stepping into the studio feels like homecoming. and leaving… leaves me grouchy. there’s just something about the slow, steady process of making quilts. The look, the feel, the loft. the rock and pull of needle and thread.

you and i may never meet, though i crave the chance to join you, through joy and grief alike. memory quilts build a bridge to the past, yet these powerful objects birth something new and no less storied.

i believe in the power of a home rich with belongings, both from and for another. items that keep us rooted in wonder and delight, across time.