Goals, Growth, and Grac(i)e

This isn’t just the story of a quilt (though there is one—two, actually). It’s also the story of how a structured goal turned into a creative rhythm, how building systems unlocked unexpected freedom, and how one very good dog supervised it all from her spot in the sun.

When I first made Swell Lines, it was just an idea I wanted to test out. I was curious—what happens visually when triangle sizes grow and shrink across the quilt? The finished piece reminded me of sitting on sand dunes, watching ocean swell lines roll in: rising, falling, rhythmic. Structured, but soft around the edges.

That first version was made about four years ago in a quiet grey palette. I’d make a small batch of units, add them to the top corner of my design wall, and then move on to the next. No grand plan—just slow, deliberate construction. I wanted to write it up as a pattern, but the tools weren’t right, my day job was intense, and it felt like too much. So the idea just... waited.

Eventually, things shifted. Work settled. A few life changes opened up space I didn’t expect. I took a course and built a better workflow. And then all hell broke loose (in a good way). I suddenly had a way to take the designs in my head and turn them into patterns that felt real and professional. That mattered to me.

That’s when I came back to Swell Lines. The blue version started with leftover backing fabric. I had just enough—well, almost. It was supposed to be two units wider and taller, but there was no chance of ordering more, so I sewed diagonal row by diagonal row, hoping I could stretch it just far enough. The final size—48" x 48"—was determined by fabric limitations, not by design.

Swell Lines is quilt pattern #13 in the 100 Quilt Project. Lucky number 13. (Yes, I’m a Taylor Swift fan.)

The 100 Quilt Project wasn’t originally about business or branding. It started because I’d just finished a year-long daily stitch goal—one small hand-stitched square each day. That project helped me understand how vital creativity is to my well-being. I realized I thrive with structure. Give me a SMART goal and a deadline and I’m good to go.

So I set a new goal: release a quilt pattern every month until I reach 100.

I like 100. It’s metric. It’s specific. It’s mildly absurd. But it fits the way my brain works.

This first year has been a mix of rewriting older patterns and building better systems. The designs came easily—maybe too easily. I think they’d been bottling up for years and finally had an escape route. I know that won’t last. There will be months when creativity stalls, when I feel over it, when nothing fits together right. But those are the moments that matter most. Reach goals get you through the easy phases—but they’re really about who you become when things get hard and you keep going anyway.

And through all of it, there’s Gracie. Studio supervisor, quilt tester, emotional support animal, and occasional photo shoot diva.

She doesn’t care about triangle math or workflows or long-term creative arcs. She cares that the quilt is soft, that the rhythm of sewing means I’m home, and that she has a job: keeping me company while I figure it all out.

She’s very good at it.