Happy autumnal equinox eve to all who celebrate! Within the last two weeks, I have really felt the shift toward the upcoming seasonal change. Where I live, we are experiencing shorter days, combined with cooler nights and mornings. All of the other Fall signs are there too: the smell of the hop harvest, the sounds of birds migrating south, the rabbitbrush in full glorious bloom, and the necessity for an additional layer. Our vegetable garden is in the throes of a big ol’ goodbye party, which means, lots of tomatoes. I’m all for it; I truly relish the change of seasons. After yet another summer full of heat and smoke, it feels like a big exhale of relief to know that, perhaps, we can put those climate anxieties to rest for a few months.
I have never lived anywhere that doesn’t experience four distinct seasons. And the older I get, I realize just how attuned I am to the changes — and just how important seasonality is to my life. Every season contains its own splendor and benefits. During Autumn, I love to spend as much time as possible outside with long hikes and mushroom foraging. It is my favorite season to camp. I cherish the changing colors and the warmth of the sun, a temperature that is just right, not too hot and not too cold. When I’m not savoring my outside time, I dream of time intensive recipes that will celebrate all of the outstanding produce I preserve. I daydream too about new knitting and quilting projects, knowing that very soon, it will be time to hunker down for winter.
Summertime is when I utilize the sun to my advantage for cyanotype printing. Now four years into my cyanotype journey, the season and craft have become synonymous with one another. The process of making a cyanotype is quite simple, yet there is always a welcome element of surprise with the final print. Which I greatly love! There is a bit of precision in the practice, but also a whole lotta nature (plant moisture, clouds) that gives each print a uniqueness. The majority of my prints the last two years have been created using fresh flowers from a non-profit flower farm where I volunteer. I liken the process of making cyanotypes to food preservation. When I need a boost of freshness, I have something tangible that reminds of me of abundance and light. I am extending the life of a perishable plant , one that was tended with great love.
This little cyanotype wall hanging quilt just completed a one month stint at the Boxx Gallery in Tieton, Washington as part of the Images of the Shrub Steppe exhibit. The prints are an homage to the flowers found in our native undeveloped shrub steppe, although I utilized domesticated flowers as opposed to the native plants. (I am a very conscientious forager and harvester.) As always, I am humbled and honored when something I make gets to be out in the world, showcased amongst other pieces of incredible art. It is a warm feeling to see something you created with your hands and heart in a public venue. And the surprising thing about this piece is that I almost didn’t enter it in the juried show. I was concerned that it might be too simplistic. I am so glad I didn’t listen too intently to my inner critic. Quiet you! That is what I say to that voice. In all seriousness, as a quilter who primarily makes blankets for use, it can be intimidating to step out of that box into a very public space and show your work. Yet I found it to be an incredible reward too, and not just because it feels so damn good to hear compliments about your work. There needs to be more handmade art out in the world, acting as a counterbalance to all of the digitization and homogenization we are bombarded with. Handmade art and craft is essential to our wellbeing, and the more that is put out in the world, the greater the power. Art and beauty are powerful forces against all of the negativity. So I encourage ALL of my friends who create to share their beautiful pieces, somewhere, somehow. The world needs to see your creations! Okay, stepping down from my soapbox now.
Is there are more autumnal appropriate song than September by Earth, Wind & Fire? This song is so fun and if you’re going to get a seasonal song stuck in your head, I mean, it might as well be this one. An amazing kawinkidink is that I did not plan on writing this piece on September 21st, and am thrilled that the alignment of blog post and song align so perfectly. I could not have planned this better if I tried. “Do you remember / The 21st night of September?” I do Earth, Wind & Fire!
As the days shift to a cooler and slower pace, I will reflect back upon the summer of 2026 and be thankful for all of the amazing produce that sustained me and for all I was able to preserve for the cold months. I will also reflect on the many flowers I got to experience and deliver to folks in need of cheer. And I’m thankful to have a creative practice that allows me to take those same flowers and through the magic of chemicals and sunlight, memorialize the flora in fabric for an extended life in a quilt. These prints are a literal snapshot of the summer of 2026. Cyanotypes are another way for me to embrace seasonality in my life and tune in deeper to the natural world.
Quiltunes 