October is officially here and I’ve been dreaming of hand quilting pillows by the window as the leaves change color. I found that in the evening after the kiddo had gone to bed if I set aside an chunk of time I can piece together a quilt top that I can hand quilt in the morning with my cup of coffee. Getting into these, Autumn rhythms have been something that I’ve found a lot of joy and lately.
These pillows are also a great way to add heirloom art to your home without committing to a full quilt top or can be a statement piece that you rotate through the different seasons.
“Maybe the point isn’t to arrive at all. Maybe it’s to make a little space to think along the way.”
I’ll be honest, hand quilting has always been something I’ve loved, but with my fast moving brain and body, I’ve always found it a little intimidating. Like, what do you mean my stitches need to be the same length AND in a straight row?But I think it was exactly the challenge and invitation I needed to slow down.
Life has been a bit of a rollercoaster lately. New jobs, postpartum, new roles, all the things. And if you’re someone like me who sometimes needs months to fully process a big life event, slow stitching might be for you.I often find that these quiet, repetitive moments are when I finally have the space to reflect. It might not be revolutionary, but I really do think there’s an art to thinking that you can’t quite access when your hands and mind are never given the chance to slow down.
I recently listened to a documentary about a woman who makes textile art on YouTube ( I wish I would have saved it because I don’t remember her name) , and she made a comment that has really stuck with me.“A lot of people look at me when I’m making my art and say, ‘Look, she’s working.’ But really, what they don’t know is that I’m not working. I’m just thinking.”I haven’t stopped thinking about that. In an era where everyone seems to be idolizing a slower life, yet we’re still very much living in a hustle culture, I think it’s becoming clear how much we’re craving something real. Something slower. Something raw.
And maybe it starts with allowing ourselves to be challenged by the silence of learning something new. By being a beginner. By working at something, not because we need to monetize it or become the best at it, but simply because it takes time and care to get good at something. I certainly haven’t “arrived” as an amazing quilter. In fact, I still consider myself very much a novice. I’m constantly learning things and thinking, “Well, I definitely didn’t know that.” And honestly, I think that’s okay.
Maybe the point isn’t to arrive at all. Maybe it’s to make a little space to think along the way.
