The journey that started it all

I knew my family had a history of quilting. My grandmother on one side owned a family heirloom that was the most beautiful quilt I had ever seen. Each square was completely different than the next and most of it was silk and embroidery. I fell in love with the vivid colors and the art and heart that went into it.

My other grandmother lives miles away, but since I was little, we were never sort of quilts in my house. Grandma made all different things for us. Sometimes it was a bag here or a Halloween costume there, but before each kid left for college, it was always a quilt that went along with us.

I, like any other kid in the family, went off to college with the beautiful purple, red, gold and white twin XL quilt that I had helped my grandmother design. It was my comfort whenever I was stressed and I constantly slept under it.

In March 2011, I finally got a chance to visit my grandmother in Michigan. And I went with a purpose. I wanted to learn her art of quilting. I wanted to pass on the talent and skills that I had been given. While I was in Michigan, I made a wonderful wall hanging with a raven in the middle, the symbol of my poetry blog, http://whenravensfly.blogspot.com. I picked all the colors and in Coldwater, Michigan is where I learned how to rotary cut safely, handle pins with care, press seams open and operate a sewing machine.

On a day trip to Shipshewanna, Indiana, we stumbled into an Amish fabric store. That was where I fell in love. The dozens and dozens of fabric bolts floor to ceiling. The bright colors. The feel of the cotton beneath my fingers. The full sized canoe that held more fat quarters than anyone could count. That was where I purchased my first pattern and bunch of fat quarters to make the pattern with.

I came home from Michigan with a renewed sense of power and calm. I had learned something and I had fallen in love. At 19, I knew I would be interesting inside of a quilt shop, mingling with the middle aged women. I was ready for it.

I went back to school in CT after spring break in Michigan and the quilting bug still kept hold. I had already gotten an old rotary mat from my grandmother and a 6 x 24 inch ruler. I sat in my dorm room cutting strips. When cutting wasn't enough, hand piecing took over.

I finally came home again for the summer and was in the basement one day when I stumbled upon an old cardboard box. It was dirty and falling apart, but inside held a treasure. It was a Singer Fashion Mate 239, with almost all of its parts. My dad helped me bring it upstairs (those metal machines are HEAVY!) and after some oiling and TLC, the Singer was sewing just like the good ole days, clean and tight and perfect.

Since then, I have completed 2 quilts and am working on assembling a third. I will post pictures of those and their stories also.