Showing posts with label Shards & Sawdust. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 6, 2026

Wordless Wednesday:
My Sewing Room

Walking into the quilt show in Hampton, Virginia felt a little like stepping into a dream I wasn’t entirely sure I belonged in—. Rows of intricate stitches, bold colors, and masterful designs surrounded me, each quilt telling its own quiet story. And somewhere among them…was mine.

This was my first time entering a quilt show, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. There’s a vulnerability in sharing something handmade—something that holds your time, your choices, your tiny imperfections. I found myself scanning the room, comparing, admiring, second-guessing…then slowly, something shifted.

People stopped. They looked. They leaned in. (Well, I even snuck up behind a couple discussing my Quilt! Too bad I didn't have my hearing aids in!)

In that moment, it didn’t matter if my quilt was the most technically perfect or the most elaborate. It was seen. And more importantly, I realized I was part of something bigger—a community of makers who understand the patience, the creativity, and the heart behind every stitch.

I left Hampton with more than just the experience of entering a show. I left with a sense of belonging, a spark of confidence, and a quiet excitement to keep creating. Because the hardest part wasn’t the quilting.

It was saying, “This is mine,” and letting it be enough.

Susan, Patty and I enjoying a celebration moment after the show!

No Rearview Mirror

A Buddhist Way of Moving Forward

Bhante Mangala

We spend so much of our lives glancing backward—replaying conversations, revisiting mistakes, wondering how things might have turned out differently. It’s like driving while staring into the rearview mirror: disorienting, exhausting, and ultimately unsafe.

Buddhist teachings gently remind us that suffering often lives in this attachment to the past. Not because the past doesn’t matter, but because we try to live there long after the moment has ended. We carry it, analyze it, and sometimes let it define us.

But what if we didn’t?

In mindfulness practice, we return to the present moment again and again—not as an escape, but as a homecoming. The breath becomes an anchor. The body becomes a place we can trust. Right here, right now, there is nothing to fix, nothing to rewrite. Just this moment, unfolding.

Bhante Dhammaratana

Letting go of the “rearview mirror” doesn’t mean forgetting or denying what happened. It means honoring the past without giving it control over our direction. It means allowing ourselves to move forward without dragging every old story along for the ride.

The road ahead doesn’t require perfection. It asks only for presence.

So today, take one step forward—gently, consciously. Notice your breath. Feel your feet on the ground. Trust that this moment is enough.

Walking path At Bhavana Society

And let the past rest where it belongs: behind you.

A Very Merry Door

A Very Merry Door:

The Nutcracker Cats &

The Sugar Plum Queen

This year, Christmas cheer has officially reached The Village at Orchard Ridge in Winchester, Virginia. My friend Mary is a resident here. I recently shared with her that I have been under a huge amount of personal stress and needed to connect with my quilting friends for the day. Mary said we could decorate her door any way we liked with “The Nutcracker” as the theme! I knew in my heart this was the perfect opportunity for me to raise my spirit. Therefore, I dragged Susan into the role of conspiratory elf! We had no idea we were about to create a holiday experience and perhaps a masterpiece?

First, I knew we had to feature the true rulers of the home—Rusty and Gracie—transformed into the most adorably stoic Nutcrackers you’ve ever seen. I absolutely love these cats. They are often on guard in Mary's sewing room or offering creative inspiration!

Frankly, nothing says “classical Christmas elegance” quite like two furry tyrants who already act like they guard the kingdom. We tried our best to capture their regal essence, though both of them probably would rather play with ribbon or attack tape like undercover saboteurs. Truly, they took to their Nutcracker roles with great enthusiasm by calling us out on the other side of the door, alerting Mary that something was going on.

At the center of it all, we placed Mary—shimmering, smiling, and crowned as none other than the Sugar Plum Queen. Because let’s be honest, Mary is the magic behind the whole holiday vibe. If anyone can reign over a kingdom of glitter, ribbons, and slightly unimpressed cats, it’s her.

After zero resistance, I remind you—she slipped into the role with suspicious ease. We told her she could not come out until we were finished. The other residents were a cloud of sparkle, giggling as they passed the door. I tried to get the name of one of the ladies to take the blame for the “bows”, but she ran off toward the elevator. Afterwards, I thought the door needed “more whimsy.” (Reader, it did not. But we added more anyway.)

The final result? A door so festive that several more residents paused to admire it. A scene so whimsical that I imagine the cats gave us a slow blink of approval. And a Christmas display so sweet and sparkly, it could make the actual Sugar Plum Fairy do a double take.

In the end, it wasn’t just a festive doorway we created. It was a reminder that the season’s magic often comes in fun moments shared with friends (furry and otherwise), where laughter is gentle, creativity is easy, and the spirit of

Christmas shows up in the simplest, sweetest ways.

Here’s to Mary, her Nutcracker kitties, and a door that twirls with pure Christmas joy!

Stitching Stillness

Stitching Stillness: Creating Two Disappearing Nine-Patch Quilts

There’s something grounding about cutting fabric into perfect squares and stitching them back together in unexpected ways. The disappearing nine-patch quilt block reminds us that beauty often comes from transformation—the breaking apart and reimagining of what once seemed complete.

This past week, I finished two versions of the same quilt: each top made with nine fat quarters of sunny yellow and darker shades of blue fabric. My friend Kathrine showed me this quick method for a quilt top that takes less than an hour to make. Yet, as I pieced each section, pressed the seams, and then sliced the block into quarters, I found myself reflecting on change. Nothing truly disappears in quilting or life; it simply shifts position, finding new balance in color and form.

Then I was rather surprised that I arranged the two tops differently. What? I thought! Oh Goodness I better get the seam ripper but then I paused. Why do I have to continue with the same pattern in quilting or life?

Following a pattern exactly can feel safe. But changing it means stepping into uncertainty—you don’t know exactly how it will turn out. Mindfulness teaches us to be okay with not knowing, to appreciate the process rather than the outcome. Each adjustment becomes a small act of trust.

As I worked on my two quilts—I realized they reflected two parts of myself. Some days I need the calm of the quiet blues; other days, I reach for the shimmer of gold. Each stitch, each rearranged block, reminds me that life, like quilting, is a series of gentle transformations.

Patterns change all the time—in fabric, in seasons, in us. Quilting teaches that when something is rearranged, it doesn’t lose its beauty; it simply becomes something new. Recognizing that truth in your creative process helps you carry it into daily life. Ah Awareness!