I sewed as I watched and listened to the Artemis II crew do their moon flyby, thrilling me and everyone here on earth. This quilt is supposed to be paying homage to our Constitution at the ripe old age of 250, but now the red, white and blue also now honors these four astronauts, and will be linked in memory to this wonderful week. And that lower right photo? That’s at the Goldstone Deep Space Center in the high desert in California. We visited there last year, and were happy to find out that Goldstone was assisting with the tracking.
I did Yvonne’s trick (aptly her blog name is Quilting Jet Girl). When she slices the quarter-square triangles again, she carefully aligns the ruler with the seam to get a perfect perpendicular slice at that point. I followed this tutorial, a link courtesy of Carol, but there are many hourglass tutorials out there. After seeing Carol’s rendition of this quilt, I purchased a digital version of the pattern here.
Meanwhile, I keep watching the NASA Artemis II feed from Mission Control Center in Houston:
And sewing.
And watching, and sewing.
Finished the quilt top today, one day before the landing over here on the West Coast. Yes, I’ll be watching not only the live NASA feed, but also the skies to the West to see if I can see anything. I’m hopeful.
Stained glass view. It’s about 72″ square.
View from inside the house towards the arbor where I photograph a lot of my quilts.
One of the challenges in our modern life is to deal with disruptions, distractions, and never letting us have a minute without someone telling us the five steps to a better life, to better breathing, to being a better whatever. Or as tech, culture and political writer Derek Thompson observed on his podcast Plain English, these voices tell you “everything is figureoutable. And if I just listen to these five steps, I can figure out all my life’s problems” (from here).
But for me, I escape to quilting to not figure everything out. I mean, yes, sometimes just cranking out on a pattern and whipping up a quilt is a good time and I like that as much as anyone. But hopefully, as Thompson noted, “you can have intimacy with a craft.” The challenge “is if we are constantly being distracted or interrupted, it’s hard to find that intimacy. It’s hard to get into the slipstream or the pocket of a creative project” (same source as above).
I like my pursuit of my craft. Of taking a well-known-to-me pattern like my Blossom, and seeing what I can do with it that sends me into discovery, of finding a new way to see what I’ve seen before. Because, really, haven’t we all seen it all before: make a cut, stitch a seam, sew it together, quilt it, and don’t forget the label?
For this quilt (Spring Dots & Stripes), I chose to work with just two elements: • dots and stripes (had to be white dots on bright colors), • Tula’s Tent Stripes (in only four colorways).
It was this challenge that coaxed me into flow.
What is flow? The Czech psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi coined the word “flow” to refer to the psychological state of optimal performance.
“He recalled in an interview how he would watch painters in their studios and how he was fascinated by their ability to forget everything while working. He was also surprised by what happened when they were done: They’d finish a work of art, and instead of enjoying it…they would put it against the wall and start a new painting. They weren’t really interested in the finished painting. What these artists were after, Csikszentmihalyi realized, wasn’t the finished work itself but the experience of full immersion and absorption in the act of creation” (from here).
To understand it better, I watched several videos online, and liked the one from John Spencer, titled “What is Flow Theory?” He highlighted it like this (click arrows to advance):
Since no matter what I tried, the slides kept getting out of order, the basics are:
The task has to be intrinsically rewarding;
The task has to have clear goals and a sense of progress;
Clear and immediate feedback is critical;
It’s a balance between the challenge of the task and the set of skills needed to complete it; and
The person in the flow state has an intense focus on the present.
I cut out pieces in certain colors — the ones I thought I would want — and started putting them up on the design wall. And then in an a-ha! moment, I could see that I could group them differently to create a pattern of interest. Maybe that came from trial and error, maybe it came from being in the flow? I was able to discover a different way as I grouped the petals into colors, cutting and discarding and pinning up and sewing, as I ignored all that was going on around me.
I took the finished quilt out into the garden for some photos this week.
Side Note: I’ve decided there are two categories of fabric design that I don’t like on the front of my quilts: the first is sharp things, like anything on this fabric. The second is insects, so these often end up on the back. (Cute small bee prints are the exception.)
I needed a mini-quilt of just the right size to fit in a specific space (photo near the end), and it needed to be spring colors.
So when I turned to the Blossom pattern (which in turn has it beginnings in the traditional Flowering Snowball block), I didn’t have the right size. Because…
…last spring I discovered that over half of my computer files were corrupted. Not a virus. Just gone (it’s complicated). And 50 percent of those were my more recent pattern files. So many patterns that I’d written could never be updated. Unless…unless…I recreated all the missing, corrupted files to revise the pattern. Like this one:
So I have been busy re-drawing the files I lost, and while I was at it, adding a new size (7″ block), and re-writing the pattern. If you’ve purchased Blossom from me before, you can go to the email you received with the pattern and re-download it. And for those who haven’t made one of my patterns, and want to try it, I put it on sale for a few days if you want to grab it now in my pattern shop.
This a photo of another quilt, Aerial Beacon, that is stuck in re-write-land. I was about a month away from the release when I discovered the corrupt files. Talk about a way to stop the flow! I’ve slowly been re-creating this one, too. (Slowly is the operative word here, but it’s coming.)
Yes, I should have had it done by now, but this is what I call a “reverse flow” task. All those glowing ideals in the list in the beginning have their counterpart: discovering and ferreting out and crying inside over lost work and then redoing the lost work, I would say are just about the opposite of the bliss of being in the flow.
Since I was in the Blossom flow, I re-made the larger 12-inch block version as well, especially since I found that outer border fabric at Road to California this year. It’s in the needs-to-be-quilted stack.
Quilt #316 • 28″ square, shown in that space where I needed a quilt
I’ll let this paragraph from Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s book, flow The Psychology of Optimal Experience, close up this post:
In the course of my studies I tried to understand as exactly as possible how people felt when they most enjoyed themselves, and why. My first studies involved a few hundred “experts”—artists, athletes, musicians, chess masters, and surgeons—in other words, people who seemed to spend their time in precisely those activities they preferred. From their accounts of what it felt like to do what they were doing, I developed a theory of optimal experience based on the concept of flow—the state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter; the experience itself is so enjoyable that people will do it even at great cost, for the sheer sake of doing it. (from here)
I wish you all a week of flow, of enjoyable quilting, and a most happy Easter–
Other posts about Blossom, the pattern and quilts:
For a while I was a traveling quilter, teaching and visiting at Guilds in Southern California. During the covid shutdown, I taught several classes of this pattern, and the one above is Robin’s quilt — a study in the tones of autumn — a very successful one! You can read about her quilt here, and more, if interested.
Lastly, a post about how I moved from the simple traditional block to the larger quilt is found in this post.
I think Easter is a good time to sit in the garden.
Yes, and… was a phrase that came tumbling into my life from two different sources, one of which was a podcast. Yes, and… is the idea that to move an idea along, first you acknowledge that idea, and then add something to it. It can work in creating. It can work in setting up your day. It can work in relationships, in collaborations.
Some related excerpts from the podcast were also about creativity, so let me just throw these here, too, at the top of this post:
“[A]n important part of creativity is that it’s joy experienced in the present, and you have to be fully present to be able to have that experience and to be there. If you are distracted or you’re not fully in it, it is not the same experience.”
“Andrew Hooverman defined creativity as two phases, divergent, which the wider you explore things, the better. Nothing’s wrong there. You are exploring everything. And then the convergence, when you look at it and go, not all this is great, you know, and editing out, but you don’t get to the one without having volume and mistakes and figuring it out. I think it’s important to keep, you know, open to possibilities, at least early on.”
And finally, “[S]ome creative pursuits are outward facing, and some are in solitude.”
(from a podcast conversation about creativity and spirituality, with Lisa Valentine Clark and James Rees)
Which led me to explore some art galleries online, a very “yes, and…” experience as I see one piece of art, and say oh yes, and…I want to see more. Here’s one example:
Rebecca Klundt, in her artist statement on the David Ericson Fine Art website, talks about using the unusable, and that “I believe that when you are driven to create, you begin to see things around you in a different light.”
Perhaps Klundt takes the yes, and… approach, and in looking at her art, filled with squares and bits and rectangles, it reminded me of our drive to take our squares and bits and rectangles and try to see them with new eyes.
Where is the yes, and… in the quilting you do? Perhaps I am just in the divergent phase (as described by Hooverman above, but sometimes after finishing a big project like last week’s SAHRR 2026, I like to clean up the sewing room, tuck away the remnants of a project, evaluate how it went, what I might change.
Or maybe I’m feeling the “resistance to premature closure,” something tested for in the Torrence Test of Creativity, and I don’t want to close it down or wrap it up. Is that the source of a quilter’s UFO? Haha, I don’t think so. [For more yes, and…on this test, head here.]
All I know is that this week I:
sanded and varnished and sanded and varnished a stair rail bannister (and it’s still not done)
finished prepping the rest of my squircles, after putting them all up onto a wall to try and get some sense of the color and value shifts.
visited San Diego (husband’s scientific conference) and while there, hit three different fabric shops and kept squircling
hosted a daughter and granddaughter for a “flash visit” (less than 24 hours)
celebrated a significant birthday of someone I love, with other people I love.
Even though I’d spent a lot of the last few weeks in “keeping the closure open,” thinking a lot of yes, and…. while working with the different SAHRR prompts, I am still using the yes, and... approach to figuring out what I want to do next.
Stay tuned.
(The art in the featured image at the top of the post, which some may see, is also by Rebecca Klundt. Head to the Blog Index — listed in the header — to see all the featured images in this blog.)
One Sunday morning, mulling over the stunning news from the day before, I drove to church along a residential road. I had a view of the low mountain range in my city, the hills turned verdant green from the winter rains. The sun was bright and clear, the sight was glorious. A favorite hymn was playing as the choir sang “This earth was once a garden place, With all her glories common.”
The song finished, I went into church, but the idea of a place so beautiful and fresh lingered.
I wrote in my journal that night: “All day I couldn’t help but think about Eden, and how much we mortals seem to have missed the boat. To live with ‘glories common’ would be the best….I thought then — realized then — that perhaps it was I who was below my best abilities in bringing about ‘all glories common.’ “
I paused, reflecting: the best of the earth, the most beautiful flowers, the clearest streams and tallest mountains — our glories. Shared all together, without rancor, viciousness, greed, cruelty and just plain old revenge and stubbornness. It felt like too big of a task; I closed my journal and went to bed.
With this experience as backdrop, I sat in the quilting room the next morning, trying to tackle one of the prompts in the Stay At Home Round Robin. I knew I wanted to figure out how to write those words of the hymn, and to let this quilt be a garden quilt, a reminder that I could bring about my own version of Eden in pieces, in bits, in my best moments. I struggled with the “how to” of the words, working it out letter by letter. Many times I was discouraged. With encouragement from friends and from my always-supportive husband, I finally finished and pinned the word borders up around the existing quilt.
Then I looked at the center: it didn’t work at all. So I took that out, went to remake a new one but couldn’t find the pattern. So I drafted up my own, remade the center and carried on. (There’s a metaphor here somewhere, I think.)
So here it is: Earth Was Once A Garden Place. And it can be again, day by day, moment by moment, with gallons of forgiveness, bushels of forbearance, and volumes of truth and charity. It’s that dailiness that can be the hardest: to not cuss out the driver who cut you off, to be more patient with those you live with, to speak up when necessary and to find stamina to do the hard tasks in our lives. I often turn to quilting to have a respite, as well as to be a part of a community of others who are exercising their creativity, planting their seeds, growing their quilts and creations.
Over time, working steadily at the task, we may yet find a way to have our glories common–
Earth Was Once a Garden Place Greatest Hits
First, a huge thank you to the co-hosts of the SAHRR for 2026 (names and links at end of post). It was wonderful! The final Link-Up Party of all the participants’ quilts can be viewed *here.*
This is the SAHRR 2026 Final Quilt. I’ve revised and cleaned-up the free tip sheets I made for this journey, plus a couple more new ones for the final quilt. Click to download. Please do not copy or digitally distribute, but send anyone who wants one to this website to get their own. (NOTE: The tip sheets will live here on this post; the earlier versions will soon be removed.)