On design · An essay
They stick to me like lint.
In the back of my mind, I'm always collecting bits and images to use in a quilt. Often it's a simple thing, like the perfect gold streak in a salmon sky. Or the joy of a small school with kids playing in the yard.
Then, one day, these bits begin to join hands.
When people see my quilts, the thing they ask is, “How do you get those ideas?”
Whatever you are working on, be it a dance, a song or a computer program, the design process is much the same. But I'm about quilts, so here's what works for me.
My interest in quilts is a constant preoccupation. I may brood on an idea for a long time. The list of people, places and things I can steal for a quilt is endless. Then one day these bits begin to join hands, and I go looking in my mind stash for other things I can use — colors, effects. I audition them on my design wall, or lay them out on the bed, and I'm up and running.
It helps to have a little time, quiet and space. Hopefully the quilt begins to talk to you. Genius will strike. Or not — in which case you start again, or put it aside until the creative wave sweeps along. I find a small glass of wine helps, and if that doesn't produce a genius idea, you don't mind.
Like all design, and all projects really: a series of small decisions.