Confessions of an Unconventional Quilt Teacher

I am just back from a two week teaching trip through the Maritimes. On top of the feeling of homecoming in Halifax, the exploration of new to me cities and islands, and the joy of end of the day solitude I had a glorious time teaching! Yes, we call these bizcations in my house, but the business part comes first. That is, the business of inspiring quilters to creative action.

My style of quilt teaching is not to come in to a class with a pattern and a timeline to finish a project. While I can completely appreciate that there are many students who want just that, it isn’t the kind of class I like to teach. Rather than 20 versions of the same thing at the end of the day I want to see 20 different things! My style is to come in, teach a technique or pull an idea out of you to make. The goal is for you to see what you can do with your own skill, time, and imagination. No two quilters are the same, no two projects are the same, no two classes are the same.

For sure, I concede that this isn’t for everyone. I know that a small majority of quilters want to come out of class with a thing at the end. Something to show their partner to prove the worth of their time in the class or something to share at guild to demonstrate the joy of the effort of bringing in the teacher. I get that, really. But that just isn’t the type of teacher I am.

The work of the Maritime Modern Quilt Guild in the Improv With Intent class

The first thing I tell my students is that what they make in class doesn’t have to be anything. Not even a mug rug or a Meals on Wheels placemat or pillow, let alone the start of a quilt. It can just be some fabric you sewed together. Ultimately, and more importantly, the class is about showing up. Just being there: embracing your own creativity, good company, and the process of quiltmaking. I want everyone to learn, but mostly, I want everyone to play.

The second thing I tell my students is that we are there to jump off a cliff. Not to worry, though, I am going to hold your hand every step of the way. Improv work, the bulk of my classes, does not come easy for most. It takes a leap. But with me in the classroom - or church hall - you have guide on the creative journey.

As a quilt teacher I see myself as three other things on top/in conjunction with quiltmaking guide: performer, playground supervisor, and therapist.

Performer

Unfortunately, I don’t get a spotlight or pyrotechnics for each class I teach. Sounds systems are nice, but not necessary (as anyone who knows me knows what I mean). Stages can sometimes be found in the room. You see, when I am in front of a group of quilters I consider myself a performer, not just a teacher.

It only took one class for me to realize that a teacher that sits at the front of the room sewing her own stuff is quite possibly the worst kind of teacher. I’ve been in those classes, as a student, and I will admit, have been that teacher at times. It is the worst. You, the student, paid money to be there, took the time to be there, hauled all your stuff to be there. If I am not going to give a thing to take home at the end of the day then I sure as hell better make the day worth it for all for you!

You can be guaranteed of stories, some bad jokes, ideas, hand holding, stunt sewing, and more. This is on top of the stellar quilting techniques we do. Hopefully no pyrotechnics though - cotton is flammable.

Playground Supervisor

At my kids’ elementary school the teachers take turns supervising recess. They walk around in reflective safety vests so everyone knows who they are. Just enough supervision to stop a fight or bandage a skinned knee. Mostly they stay out of the way and let the kids do their thing. And what are the kids doing? Playing made-up and real games, sitting in groups gossiping, tackling each other, looking for four-leaf clovers, creating yet another version of tag or grounders, or generally enjoying not having to think for a little while. Recess is the best.

I like to think of my classroom as the playground. We are there to play! To explore, to experiment, to try something new, to figure something out. It’s like taking the basic rules of tag but having a million iterations. We still use a 1/4’’ seam allowance, we still press, and squaring up happens eventually. After that? Well, we are only constricted by our fear and perceived limitations.

By no means am I the quilt police, but maybe I should wear a bright safety vest next time I teach, just so you know who I am?

Therapist

This is a stereotype. The more traditional the guild, the harder it is for most participants to relax and play. We are just so used to playing by all the rules and sitting nicely. When I say it is time to get dirty and throw some rules out many people balk. It just isn’t what they are comfortable with/used to/approve of/like. I get that. It’s normal, it’s okay. It doesn’t mean, however, I won’t encourage you to try something new just for today.

When people are struggling with what I am trying to teach or the space I am creating to play I don’t like to leave them struggling. I will sit down and have a chat. We’ll talk about the why of their quiltmaking and why this particular approach is so hard for them. I’m coming to realize that it makes me a bit of a therapist. (Minus any degrees, training, or certification.) I can’t offer any real life solutions to real life problems, but I can hold their hand as they talk about their quiltmaking journey.

What I can also do fairly well now is understand why they struggle with my approach. The response, then, is unique to each quilter. Sometimes a few personal, encouraging words is all that is needed. Other times I might literally hand them the fabric and tell them where to sew as a start. And for those running full throttle with the play and improv techniques I teach it might mean a high five or chest bump, or even a slight pull back. No matter what, I’ve got your back. I’m here for you.

Inspiring quilters to creative action is my biggest thrill. It is the mission of my work, as cliche as that might sound. It is a tremendous opportunity and responsibility to be in front of a crowd full of expectations. I do not take the job lightly and always try my best for the group in front of me. So you know, I appreciate every opportunity you all give me. From the big classes to the tiny guilds, from the exotic locations to the small church basements. No matter what, I am here for you.

Dear Quilting Industry: Simmer Down

As we pull in to our neighbourhood, home from the pool or errands or whatever my kids inevitably start talking about the things they will do when we get home. Can we watch TV? What is there for a snack? I have homework. Does Dad have to work tomorrow? Can I go over to so and so's house? It is relentless. The demand for attention, the inability to focus on what is front of us right now - a conversation in the car together - and the creation of more chaos when a bit of order, first, is needed. It is exhausting.

Life is full of competition for our attention. The kids are in battle with our parents, the news is in battle with the laughter of memes, the dog is in battle with our partners. And around and up and back again. How we don't all live with a crick in our neck from the constant twists of the head to watch something, the next thing, is beyond me. 

Fabric and the quilting industry is no different. Hundreds of lines, with probably 10-20 different fabrics in them, launch each year. Actually, each season. Then there are the patterns to go with each. Not to mention the thread, the latest notion, and the world of bags, crafts, and garments. It is all enough to make one feel like they are spinning in a vortex of colour, not knowing where to stop or look.

And I didn't even mention social media. 

Those of us working in the industry have been saying for a few years that it is getting worse and worse. The churn through of inspiration, the saturation of the market, the sheer volume of stuff is overwhelming even for us. It makes the hustle more exhausting as you try to find a way to differentiate yourself. Yet we too are contributing to the noise.

I always think of the Grinch and Boris Karloff saying "Oh the noise. The Noise. Noise. Noise. Noise."

Book publishing has already slowed down. You just don't see the volume of quilt books hitting in the market anymore. Two weeks ago we all saw the news of Free Spirit shutting down. Now it will have a new owner.  Brick and mortar stores are closing, and others are opening. Ecommerce still expands and contracts 

All of this could truly be a market correction. The quilt industry has nearly tripled in the last 20 years. That is a lot of years of buying, not just new quilters. The economy is still not great. I know my own disposable income doesn't get spent on  fabric even though as a professional I can write it off. How many other people are in the same boat?

I have three other theories regarding the consumer side, while others have addressed the supply side of the quilt market.

... One, all those new quilters, the twenty somethings who led the Modern movement, now have kids, and sometimes parents, to take care of. Our time and money disappeared. We are quilting less obsessively, if at all. Not to mention, #2 below.

... Two, we have enough fabric. Plain and simple. Many of us got caught up (still do) in the need to stock up on the latest and greatest, to build our stash of celebrity designers fabrics and products. Those stashes are now sitting there. There is that old joke about she who dies with the most fabric wins, right?

Some folks destash, others let it languish in the closet. This is regardless of the age and the situation we are in. Many of us can now shop at home first. Those large stashes have essentially created a quilt store in our home. That means we aren't necessarily hitting the stores to stock up anymore.

... Three, I'm seeing a move away from consumerism. It might be the recession, it might be a increase in environmental awareness, it might be simple exhaustion at the churn of new product. Regardless, I think a lot of us are buying less new stuff simply for the sake of buying less. This translates to a rise in upcycled material, thrift store purchases, and using what we have already. This also ties into what I am seeing as a backlash against new, new. new. 

Personally, I've been feeling a shift over the last year. At first it was because we were tight on cash and I needed to not shop so much. (Kid's sports, yikes!) It continued because I wasn't seeing much new stuff I eagerly wanted. Or rather, nothing was standing out to me. I also launched my own fabric line in there and 20 bolts of fabric suddenly in your tiny space is A LOT of fabric. To be perfectly honest, I have a large stash. At least for the last 10 years or so. And I always shop first from there. But if I went to the store because I needed a particular shade of blue, I would buy 4 different fabrics to fulfill that need and fill the blue bin. It was a lot of consumerism. 

At the beginning of the year I cleaned out the stash. The closet was full of falling over piles, bins that wouldn't close, and a heck of a lot of fabric I wasn't and will never use. So I went through each colour, purging and refolded. It only took a few evenings after the kids went to bed, not the big deal I made it out to be in my head. I now have a large blue IKEA bag ready for donation and a neater closet. Was it ever liberating!! I've been in a quilt store twice since then and only bought what I needed because that was the easiest thing to do. Perspective is a wonderful thing.

None of this, however, helps the quilt shops or the suppliers. Or my colleagues in the industry trying to make a living. This market correction is going to hurt some people, I have no doubt. People will leave the industry, things will get leaner. This isn't always a bad thing, but it sure can be ugly. It also doesn't guarantee that quality is the winner. If social media has taught us anything it is that those who know how to play the game, with or without the rules, are likely to win.

I've been asking myself a lot of questions about the hustle lately for exactly these reasons. As I said before, I'd love to write another quilt book, but that may not be in the cards. I'd love to design more fabric but I have a lot of work to do there on improvement and I need to be comfortable with putting more product out in the world. I'm not ready to leave the industry, but it is definitely time to redefine my role in it. And I don't think I am alone in this process, from the consumer to the supplier level people should be doing this.

In the meantime, I've slowed down. Life is insanely busy between kids and the family business (outside of my own work). The only time I really sew is for that Morning Make habit. Let me tell you, slow is good! I love all my quilts under construction but I am starting to focus more. Working on only one or two at a time. Trying to spin less, take more deliberate action. Instead of walking in the door of my sewing room and asking a million questions about what comes next, I take off my shoes and move thoughtfully, getting things done little by little.

As I say to the kids every time they start off in a frenzy: Simmer Down.

Adventure - A Quilt for Not a Book

Adventure

36'' x 42''

My husband defines the distinction between an excursion and an adventure as this: When you go on an excursion everyone makes it back. When you go on an adventure, somebody or something doesn't survive the trip. He is morbid and sarcastic, that man. 

This quilt is definitely an adventure.

A few years ago I had an idea for a book. I was fresh off the publication of You Inspire Me to Quilt, still riding high. Over bourbon on the best patio over I sat down with an industry friend, a good colleague, and we were brainstorming ideas for my next book. We both got really excited about one particular idea. It was stellar. Or maybe it was the bourbon talking?

Nope, it's still a pretty good idea. Unfortunately, my publisher did not necessarily agree. Even though I've published three books I can't just throw an idea at them and have them send a contract my way immediately. So I took a few months to flesh it out. Because of the nature of the concept this required more time than I usually need at this stage. A book proposal is necessarily detailed as it is - table of contents, sample chapter, and quilt examples all required - but this one needed even more to get the concept across. I got all this together and then they came back with a request for an actual quilt to see the concept in action.

Sigh. 

Sure, okay. I went right to it. Got the quilt top all made, got it basted, then stopped. Life got busy. And it's never really stopped. No excuse, because I've made other quilts in the meantime. But the mojo slipped away after the initial burst of work. Then the reality of whether I truly had the time to actually write another book sunk in. I did not. Not for about 2 years there. I so desperately wanted to, but unless I became both a) suddenly flush with cash and b) able to function on zero sleep for months at a time it wasn't going to happen.

I won't lie, I shed some tears over this. Frustrated and annoyed at the position I was in - even though I put myself in that exact position - I wallowed for a bit. I got depressed seeing the success of others in the industry via social media, jealous even. It was ugly and mean spirited on my part, to be perfectly honest. And that is before I beat myself up on the regular about it all.

Not sure how exactly, but gaining some perspective changed everything. At some point I took stock of my own successes and felt proud. I started to play my own game. I saw all the freelance, short burst writing I was doing as practice for everything else. My schedule, or at least my approach to it, allowed for more time. So I re-pitched the book concept. 

Shot down again.

This time though I decided the quilt I'd started needed to not languish on the closet shelf. Up there it mocked me, made me feel like a failure. It was time to reclaim that part of my creative history. At worst, it becomes another story to tell at a trunk show (or on a blog). At best, it becomes a cool quilt gifted to a beautiful baby. So here it is. 

This quilt went on a creative adventure. The book never came back alive, but that's okay. The journey was still worth it. And who knows, that concept hasn't died entirely...

Quilt Details:

-  Fabric is a couple of Mini Charm packs of Carolyn Friedlander Doe mixed with her curated selection of Kona cottons. It was a give away from Quilt Market a few years back. The background is Essex Linen.

- Backing is also from Doe.

- Binding is Carolyn's crosshatch in this amazing green. I wish I could find more.

- Quilted with a pale yellow from Aurifil in straight lines changing directions. There were a million knots to bury with the quilting pattern I chose, but I do love the end result.

Traveller - Wrapped in Hugs

Traveller

54'' x 54''

Started years ago, finished in record time. Traveller is a special quilt I made for a special person going through a rough time.

The fabric comes from India, brought home for me - the quilter in the family. I pet it, I made precisely 3 quarter circles to test out the sewing, then put it aside for years. I would show the blocks when I taught my Perfect Circles class and put them back in the bin. Then you hear the word Cancer. Cancer. And the world stops for more than a few moments. When it starts again, you, the quilter, think of making a quilt.

The quilt itself is something you want to give, to try to keep your arms wrapped around the person 24/7. It's more than that though. It is the act of making for me, the quilter, too. The act of making allows us to slow down, think about the person, and process our own emotions. It is about the quilt AND the process equally. And when the quilt leaves your hands and gets wrapped around the back of the recipient all the love gets transferred.

The top was done already, made in a fit of tangential creativity and improvisation. I'd always known I would give it to this particular recipient, but the quilt top languished in the pile of unfinished tops awaiting another round of motivation. So when I heard Cancer and surgery and a lot of time on the couch right before Christmas I pushed myself to get the quilt finished.

I made the back from a collection of sarong fabric another friend gave me. More travel inspiration! My husband helped me baste the quilt on a Saturday night. All day Sunday I quilted. Monday I bound, stitching on the winter drive with a golden thread, car light on as the sun set freakishly early on the Northern Prairies. On Tuesday it lay on the bed, waiting for recovery, waiting to lay down the hugs.