A small practice built one quilt at a time.

I make one-of-a-kind quilts. Each one is designed as an individual study in color, structure, and composition. No repeated patterns, no production runs. Just finished pieces released as they’re completed, with the full archive kept visible as part of the studio record.

Each quilt takes between 80 and 150 hours to complete, sometimes more. They’re made to be used, displayed, and kept. Functional textiles built with the care and intention usually reserved for wall art.

Self-taught, one skill at a time.

I’ve been working with fiber and textiles since I was young, but quilting came later. It came after years of teaching myself other techniques first.

At twelve, I learned to crochet by watching YouTube videos. Once I’d worked through that, I moved on to knitting, again through videos. Not long after, I bought my first spinning wheel to spin my own yarn. In 2018, I started dyeing yarn, then felt, then fabric. By 2020, I’d learned to sew, and quilting finally clicked.

I’m a self-directed learner by nature. I like figuring things out on my own terms rather than asking for help. That approach shaped how I work now. I experiment with techniques, layer processes, and build quilts that don’t follow templates or repeated patterns.

The quilt that made me want to share the work.

The third quilt I made was my first original design. Not just my own fabric and color choices, but my own composition. But it was the kimono quilt that made me want to turn this into something more than a personal practice.

I’d bought a specific fabric with no clear plan for it. Then the idea came. A pictorial quilt with a kimono pieced in fabric, like drawing an image through textile. I designed the pattern myself, and when it was finished, it felt like something worth sharing.

That quilt marked a shift. It wasn’t just about learning techniques anymore. It was about making work I wanted other people to see and live with.

Still finding my style, but with a direction.

Since 2022, my quilts have become more experimental. I’ve moved toward more hand work, refined my technical skills, and pushed myself to try different shapes and color combinations.

I’m naturally drawn to blues, greens, and yellows, but I try to work across the full spectrum. There’s beauty in all of it. Some quilts are pictorial, others geometric. Some are vibrant and saturated, others quieter and more tonal. I’m still exploring what my visual voice is, and that’s reflected in the range of work I make.

From concept to finished piece.

Most quilts start with a shape or pattern idea, paired with a color concept. I sketch and plan the composition first, then pull fabric from my stash or dye specifically for that piece. Sometimes both.

The making process is a mix of machine and hand work, depending on the quilt’s purpose. Machine piecing handles about half the work. The rest is done by hand. For quilts meant to be used, like blankets and bed covers, I lean more on the machine for durability and speed. For wall pieces, I prefer to work entirely by hand.

The finishing process varies too. Sometimes I machine-piece the top but hand-quilt the three layers together. Other times, it’s all one method or the other. Each quilt dictates its own needs.

Because I dye my own fabrics, spin yarn, and work across multiple fiber techniques at once, there’s a lot happening simultaneously. It’s controlled chaos. Many processes running in parallel, all feeding into the next finished piece.

No templates. No repeats.

Each quilt is designed and constructed individually. The composition, palette, and fabric arrangement you see will not be reproduced. If you buy a piece, it’s the only one that will exist in that form.

This approach takes more time and limits how many quilts I can release each year. A single quilt can take anywhere from 80 to over 150 hours to complete. But it keeps the work visually specific and materially considered. Every quilt is an art piece made with care, meant to be cherished like a family heirloom.

The connection should be immediate. You see it, it speaks to you, and you know it belongs in your space.

Teaching, growing, and continuing to create.

In the future, I’d love to start offering classes. Helping others develop their own skills and find their own style across quilting, dyeing, or any of the techniques I’ve learned along the way.

I’m also planning to invest in a longarm quilting machine, both to work more efficiently and to help other quilters finish their pieces. However the practice grows, the core stays the same. Keep making, keep experimenting, keep creating.