Quilt Gallery

Our group of six artists met as participants in the monthly critique group started by well-loved quilt artist, Judith Trager. We dealt with the blow of her passing in January of 2022 by creating a piece to honor her generosity, spirit, and love of nature, especially the aspens of her beloved Colorado. Like those iconic trees, Judith stood strong, endowing those around her with color and light.

This quilt is a tribute to my great-grandmother, Ethel D. Gilkerson. My childhood recollections of her are one-dimensional, much like a single snapshot. With time, I have pieced together the essence and power of her life and now have a richer understanding of her choices and her character. Her strength, despite adversity, has been a model for five generations of women.

My friend and I each started our own versions of this quilt at the same time. I was trying to distract her from her husband’s recent illness and myself from my mother’s accident. She never had time to finish hers. The hand appliqué gave me a lot of time to think, and by the time I needed backing, my mother had died. Removing the backing and batting where I could, I used one of her unfinished quilts as the backing.

This wall hanging is a complementary design to my eldest daughter’s wedding quilt, celebrating their new family and joint unconditional love for cats.

When my mother passed away, I was inspired to make a rendition of her painting of a rooster into a quilt. My father refused to send me his painting because he was afraid that I would not return it. I placed a copy of the painting on the back of my quilt so I could share her artwork.

After 42 years of marriage, my husband passed away in 2016. The mortuary asked if I wanted his thumbprint on a pendant or ring to wear all the time. I decided on a pendant that I could wear on a chain with both of our wedding rings. From this, I created a pattern to make my quilt. We lived our lives as though each day could be the last. We found joy and laughter every day and enjoyed every moment of our time with our family. There was nothing more important to him than family.

I made this quilt in honor of my in-laws’ 48th wedding anniversary. Each of the brown hands is a handprint of a child or spouse, except for the small one, representing the child who passed away. The green handprints represent grandchildren, in age order, from darkest to lightest. The background is pieced with four pieces, to show that we are all connected in this tree, despite being spread across all four corners of the world. The quilting shows the sun shining through the leaves to help us grow!

My dear friend, Nalani Olds, Hawaiian spiritual counselor and authority on the Hawaiian queen, inspired this creation. Nalani’s great-grandmother, Elizabeth Achook, co-composed “Sanoe” with Hawaii’s beloved Queen Lili’uokalani. Honoring a friend is one of life’s joys. In the song, Queen Lili’uokalani describes a secret affair between two unknown lovers. Using images of water lily (the woman) and lehua (the man), “Sanoe” is a haunting and beautiful melody of a woman calling into the night mist.

After every vacation, show, movie, and ballgame, my husband Roger would ask, “What are you going to do with all those tickets you are saving?” Roger passed away in 2017. We were married for 56 years. This quilt is in honor of him and our life together. The tickets and photos are the memories of my heart.

My grandson, Grissom, loves soccer very much. He is honored to be selected as one of the starter players on the Taipei U12 Elite team. As his grandmother, I made this quilt to remember his best moments so we can all celebrate and share this glory.

Long-time inspiration, sparked by the iconic quilt by Sieglinde Schoen Smith, which has been used to illustrate the century-old fairy tale, reached its now-or-never moment at the beginning of the Covid pandemic. Sadly, soon it became a memorial project in memory of my late Mother Lubov (Love), taken by Covid, and a long line of strong women—the backbone of our family, including my grandmother Vera (Faith), my very first sewing teacher.

This began in answer to a challenge and became a memorial to my father when I selected the yellow rose for the center. My father grew roses, and my favorite among them was a beautiful yellow climbing rose. Had I made a memorial for him, it would have included Kentucky, the Air Force, hunting, WWII, and the depression. Yet now, when I view this quilt, I remember and honor all those things about him without trying to collage it all together.

Following my husband’s sudden and unanticipated death, I began this portrait based on the obituary photograph. Needless to say, it was a highly emotional project. I struggled with it for over a year, finally achieving an excellent representation of him.

One hundred months of my life have been spent actively trying to get pregnant. Every square is a month of sadness and despair. However, this quilt is also a celebration of the birth of my motherhood. I was finally able to become a mother with the birth of my daughter in 2003. In 2009, I celebrated the birth of my son. The variations of the blocks make a faint heart. I was never alone on my journey. Love always surrounded me.

I saved fabric from all the garments I made for my children to make them each a quilt. For my son, who works in film, I designed a film reel showing his life to date. The color blocks are the fabrics, and he is wearing the garment/costume in some photos.

Inspired by the decorative art of Anton Seder, I made this quilt to celebrate the 39th wedding anniversary of myself and my husband, George. I cut up, rearranged, painted, and stitched together ten different art pieces that I have made over the years. It is both an acknowledgment of time together and a quilt of memories.

When I admired the shirt a friend was wearing and joked that I wished I had it for this quilt, he took it off and handed it to me. I refused the shirt, but found it on my doorstep the next day, thus the name for this quilt. The friend has since passed from Alzheimer’s, and I think of him fondly when reflecting on this quilt.

All of these ties were worn by my father or my husband from the 1960s to about 2012. My father preferred the wild colorful ties, while my husband always selected the more subdued colors. When I showed the quilt to my family, my oldest grandson immediately laid claim to it. It was interesting to hear the men pointing out ties that they remembered.

On any given evening during my growing-up years, you could find my father at his watch repair bench working with thousands of sparkling, nearly microscopic watch parts. In the cabinet next to his workbench, each drawer was a self-contained design, a collage of circles and squares of gold, silver, and tin.

On any given evening during my growing-up years, you could find my father at his watch repair bench working with thousands of sparkling, nearly microscopic watch parts. In the cabinet next to his workbench, each drawer was a self-contained design, a collage of circles and squares of gold, silver, and tin.