While working, I try to resist the temptation to start sewing down the pieces until all of the work is cut out. I then try to leave it hanging for a few days as I live with it to see if I’m pleased with the arrangement. I’m always amazed to find that a piece that looked perfectly breathtaking the day before, will the next day have a huge, totally unacceptable piece glaring out at me. I think that the cats sneak into the studio in the middle of the night and move the pieces around in order to confuse me.

The best thing that I can say about my work is that I really do like it. Not that there aren’t tons of things that I need to improve, or do differently, but many of the pieces still thrill me years after their completion. Sometimes, I turn a corner, and see the light play across one of my quilts. The surface becomes hills and valleys as the light moves over the quilting stitches. It’s at moments like this that I still get the aesthetic chilly bumps up and down my neck, even though I’m the one who did the piece. “Wow”, I think, “I made that!”