Last week the following sight greeted me as I stepped out my bedroom door:
That's three complete tops and three complete backs, draped all over my living room.
Why, you ask?
Well, because the night before, I'd missed the edge of the side table, and my mug of pomegranate tea spilled all over the stack of tops and backs tucked underneath. (OK, a word of explanation: wooden crates make very useful side tables when turned on their ends, but those slats can be tricky. I'd tucked my fabric in the crate for easy access and constant reminder to actually baste and quilt them, never expecting this would happen!) Thankfully, once things were dry, I could not detect any pink stains, but the event encouraged me to reconsider how I store my pieces.
Soon I had a new addition coming my way! Behold, the gateway to Narnia!
Well, it is my grandparents' wardrobe, and it is perfect for storing my fabric and quilts. My parents had it in their garage and were waiting for an opportunity to bring it over. The picture explains how perfect it is, so I have nothing more to say on the matter:
My fabric stash is tucked willy-nilly, but the wardrobe is so deep I can easily see what's there and access it. Blue scrap bins are now off the floor (yay!), and quilt tops and other treasures have an honored place. At the bottom are vintage sheets, scraps of odd fabric (burlap, etc.), and chunks of denim awaiting further application.
It feels so sweet to have my grandparents as part of my sewing space, a reminder of their encouragement in my artistic endeavors since childhood. It's also quite refreshing to have a new sense of order to my materials. Creativity seems to come easier when the environment reflects thought and care, wouldn't you say?