Comfy Slippers

I only went in to do a small thing

Last week I went into the studio to do a small thing.

I needed to tidy away some quilts that had been left out after teaching. The kind of job that doesn’t ask for much thinking, only a bit of folding and putting things back where they belong.

By the end of the day, I had reorganised the entire studio.

Furniture moved from one room to another. A door came off its hinges so I could manoeuvre a 4×4 Kallax unit through the opening. Storage cubes were lifted out, stacked, shifted and slid back in again. It all felt very practical while I was doing it.

When everything was finally in place, I stood back and felt I’d done a good job.

Then I sat down at my sewing machine

As I sat at my sewing machine the feeling arrived immediately. I felt off balance. Hemmed in and disorientated. On one side, the large Kallax unit. On the other, my magic design wall on wheels. Everything I could possibly need was within reach, but my body hated it.

From a practical point of view, it was excellent.
From the point of view of being able to work, it was just off.

The twenty four hour test

Ever the optimist, I decided to leave it as it was for twenty four hours, the way I do with those quilts I’m unsure about. If I still dislike something after a day, if I can still see the mismatched point or the quilting that’s gone awry and the feeling hasn’t shifted, I know what comes next.

The ‘hairy shirt’ moment is something I’ve recognised many times over the years. A period of discomfort. Irritating, but also oddly reassuring. The moment when you realise that you skipped the basics, forgot years of training and bypassed good housekeeping in favour of speed or an unbridled attack of laissez-faire.

In quilting terms this usually results in unpicking.

Unpicking is painful while you’re in it. There’s no way around that. But there’s also a quiet relief in knowing you’re doing the right thing. Success, I’ve learnt, isn’t ‘getting it right’ first time. It’s recognising the problem and being willing to try again.

Taking the door off, again

So the Kallax unit came out.
The door came off its hinges again.

Furniture was moved, this time more slowly with more forethought, until the room softened and began to feel workable once more.

The Stuff question

All of this moving left me facing something familiar. I have a lot of stuff.

Much of it is tools and fabric I use regularly. And of course there’s the mandatory quilter’s stash. We all know that fabric collecting is an entirely different passion.

But the quilts! I have so many quilts. They’re not show pieces, but I love them all the same. They hold decisions, experiments, and hours spent sewing and quilting. The fruits of my labour.

I spent a long time worrying about what should happen to them. Whether I should move some on, reduce the number, hold a sale. Then came a quiet ah-ha moment.

When I’m gone, they won’t be my problem - so why worry at all?

For now, they’re a working portfolio, something I can draw on when I’m teaching, a way to show what’s possible.

Seeing what’s already there

I did do something quite sensible though. I put all the quilts into clear bags. Now, I can see what’s inside straight away. Not fewer quilts, just fewer obstacles.

The fourth element in the quilting system

It’s only now, as I sit sewing a block for a friend, that I can see what I’d been missing before.

Quilting is a system, machine, quilt, quilter, I wrote about it last week, but the physical space belongs to the system too. The room isn’t neutral. It leans back, or it presses in. It shapes how the body settles at the machine.

I feel very lucky to have my space. I know not everyone does. But whether a sewing space is large or small, temporary or permanent, how your body feels within it matters. Ease isn’t indulgent. It’s what allows the work to continue.

Comfy Slippers

We wouldn’t choose to sew all day in tight dress shoes if a pair of comfy slippers were waiting by the door. The sewing space asks for the same kindness.

For now, the room feels settled again and that’s enough to carry on.