Following Color and a (Loose) Plan

It started with a question I wasn’t expecting: "Are you dying?"
I had just arrived at a weekend fabric dyeing class at VisArts, and the instructor was standing in the hallway, trying to direct people to the right rooms. It was a funny, slightly existential start, but also a fitting one for Moody Blues—a quilt that grew from experimentation, intuition, and a little bit of faith.

I’m not an expert at hand-dyeing, but I knew I wanted to create a close gradation of blues—a blue with a little warmth, edging toward gray and black. Something that would feel calm and serene against the frenetic energy of summer. I calculated how much fabric I would need (three fat quarters for each color), prepped everything ahead of time, and jumped into freezer bag dyeing.

Of course, true to my approach ("what’s the worst that could happen?"), I didn’t record any recipes or exact volumes—just a bit of blue, a bit of black, a hint of cerulean—and hoped both my math and my color instincts were right. I would have been sunk if I needed more fabric!

The quilt itself is a traditional courthouse steps block, but with a twist: narrow, steep steps that build a soft gradient from center to edge. Simple, repetitive, calming. I quilted gentle spirals across the surface using a beautiful blue variegated thread, trying to evoke the feeling of raindrops rippling across a puddle—my original inspiration when I started dreaming up this quilt.

Now Moody Blues hangs over my couch, where it adds a strange, almost magnetic sense of calm to the room. I think it’s the color—it gives my mind a place to rest, even on the busiest days.