It's been quite the hiatus, and it seems the most appropriate that my first update of the new year reveal my progress on the medallion quilt. It's so incredibly satisfying to hang it up and photograph after every few rows, otherwise I end up looking only at bits and parts as I work on it. I'm starting to have serious anxiety about if I'll actually use this one, or safely store and preserve it for posterity. Seems cruel to pack it away in the dark somewhere, even though its the best way to preserve it. Thousands more hand stitches to go, I guess I have some time to decide.

Not "modern" - I know what you're thinking. I don't mind, I've decided that working with a traditional pattern like this teaches me a lot about technique and patternmaking, and also I just love the double wedding ring. There's a reason they've been around and reproduced so many times, and I think that making quilts like this are an important part of my practice. There are some "rules" about double wedding ring quilts that have been passed down over the years and I've tried to ignore a few when I can. One being that the 'block' centers and melon centers should match, and wait until you see the binding -- it certainly will break any 'traditional' rules that quilters follow when selecting a binding. The color is perfect in terms of color theory and the effect I'm going for. You know it must be good if I actually want to sew the binding, since it usually is the most boring step.

The hand quilting pattern is from a double wedding ring quilt (probably made by a group of mennonite women) on display at the American Folk Art Museum. I'm not really sure if its exactly replicated here since I am hand-drawing it all, and lifted what I liked about it from a photo. It's great to not be working on squares/triangles for once, and now I have all sorts of ideas about incorperating curves into more of my "modern" projects to come.

One of my oldest and dearest friends, Tess, has a knack for finding great books at yard sales and church book swaps. Recently she gifted me this great old quilting book - in a practical sense its a HORRIBLE book, but the content is actually pretty inspiring to me. I was really pleasantly surprised to find this note inside the front cover -- it's pretty hillarious and sweet. The gentle teasing mixed with a bit of admiration and affection is spot on. It's easy to imagine the mennonite lady somewhere in central PA with remarkable canning, sewing and gardening skills that was given this book. Notice the Pennsylvania Dutch: 'schwester' = sister.

Part of why its such a perfect note is because it reminds me of Tess and her own gentle teasing balanced by her undying loyalty and affection. She's the kind of friend I'm super grateful to have. Her perfect gift reminds me that being excited and inspired ignites other peoples excitement in what you're doing. I love that my friend who could care less about making things can still be engaged with my practice at the moment. I can't tell you how many great clippings and links my grandparents and other family members send my way. Making things isn't just a selfish obsession of mine, but it becomes what connects me to the people around me. Everytime I send a quilt on its way to someone new I'm lucky to know that they're going to use it, love it, talk about it.

And the colors on the cover -- I mean so good -- what more can I say?

My grandpa just found this photo of me, and it just about made my night. I must be about 5 years old sewing here. 

I finished this quilt for my cousin to celebrate his graduation from high school. I combined Devon shirting, Ikat, and some daiwabo taupe. I think of each of these kinds of fabrics as rather traditional styles of fabric, especially the homespun feel of the daiwabo taupe. I love how they each can mix together to make something hip enough for a college bound young man. The Ikat is just right here, and I'm so glad I took the risk to add it.