A Calm Forest Kind of Bold
It started with a tile floor.
Not a glamorous one—just one of those black and white patterns that quietly sticks in your brain. Quilters spend a lot of time looking down, and I caught myself sketching out the block geometry without realizing it. After some adjustments to make the geometry work for a quilt, I knew I liked the pattern and the repeat. I also knew I wanted something bold—something that felt jewel-toned and sparkly.
But every time I tried to pull fabrics, nothing felt right. I made mockups. I adjusted palettes. I stared at it and just… didn’t want to cut fabric. The colors weren’t singing to me, and neither was the name I had in mind.
So I started playing with color combinations in my design software (a deeply addictive process!) and found greens really spoke to me —cool, warm, light, and dark—and paired with soft golds. Suddenly the whole quilt changed. The design went from “sparkly” to “still.” The jewel shapes were still there, but the mood was quieter, deeper. A calm forest kind of bold. Some greens reminded me of sunlit leaves, others of shadows and evergreens. The golds felt like light filtering through the trees. That was the moment I knew the name.
Evermore. Borrowed from literature and poetry, from that lovely, lingering word that suggests something enduring, shadowed, and timeless. It’s a word you find in old books, in velvet-toned poems, in woods that keep their leaves. This quilt matched that energy: a long exhale, a shift in tone, a turn inward.
The construction process involved a lot of attention to seam direction. There are several places where block corners come together, so I leaned heavily on the spinning seam method—not just for aesthetics, but to reduce bulk and make the whole thing feel smoother. (There’s something deeply satisfying about getting those corners to nest just right.) I even used spinning seams in assembling the quilt top, and it paid off.
The quilting was all freehand: a sketchy leaf motif in each pair of greens. It’s a little unruly and imperfect by design—like walking through a forest with no path, just instinct and texture. I buried a lot of threads. It was worth it.
I finished the binding while Gracie snoozed nearby, as she always does—quiet (except when she is chasing dream squirrels), steady, and vaguely unimpressed. She’s featured in the photos because she’s part of the process now. She always knows when a quilt is done because final photography always involves lots of cookies!
