Hi Friend,

This week we've been talking about creativity, permission, and why so many women stop calling themselves creative.

Which brings me to a confession.

I have fabric in my room that is apparently waiting for a higher purpose than actual quilting.

You know the fabric I'm talking about.

The 'too pretty to cut' fabric. The 'I'm saving this for something special' fabric. The fabric that gets unfolded, admired, gently petted like a family heirloom… and then carefully returned to the shelf for another five-year nap.

At this point, some of these fabrics have survived multiple sewing room reorganizations, two emotional support purchases from quilt market, and what I believe should qualify as senior citizenship.

And honestly? I think many of us do the same thing with creativity itself. We save it.

We wait until we have more time, more confidence, more skill, a cleaner sewing room, fewer responsibilities, less fear of 'messing it up.'

We wait for the perfect project. The perfect timing. The perfect version of ourselves.

Meanwhile, the fabric waits. And so do we.

But here's what I've learned after years of quilting, teaching, and talking with makers:

The magic rarely happens before we begin. It happens because we begin.

Usually imperfectly. Usually nervously. Usually while muttering something concerning under our breath after cutting the wrong piece.

Some of the quilts that end up meaning the most to us are not the flawless ones. They're the ones connected to courage, learning, experimentation, memories, growth, laughter, persistence.

The slightly crooked block often carries more story than the perfect one ever could.

So this weekend, maybe this is your gentle reminder:

• cut the fabric,

• start the project,

• take the class,

• pull out the unfinished quilt, or

• try the thing you've been convinced you 'aren't creative enough' to do.

Because creativity doesn't disappear. Sometimes it's just folded neatly on a shelf waiting for permission.

Until next time… Keep stitching,

Donna