Hand Quilting: If at first you don't succeed....

I learned something new this week, both about quilting and myself.  Tuesday I took a class on hand quilting, a a back-to-the-basics approach that has intrigued me ever since I learned how to quilt. I want to know how to do it the way it used to be done.  Turns out hand quilting is not as easy as running stitches through layers of filled fabric.

You need supplies--a quilting hoop (which is not just a big embroidery hoop), marking pens, a design template, special needles called "betweens" (I thought it was a misprint for needles on my class description), special hand quilting thread (heavier and glazed), a special thimble (my mother's thimble, tucked in my sewing basket, lacks a special ridge to catch and anchor the needle), along with a steady stream of patience and persistence. Learning how to hold the needle correctly, use the thimble effectively, and train your fingers to pinch the fabric, stack the needle, and pull the thread to sew small, even stitches is all much more challenging than I thought it would be.

Not long into my class, I began to rethink my desire to learn how to hand quilt.  My thumb balked at lining up with the needle and my rocking stitch refused to rock. I listened and watched fellow newbies move from asking clarifying questions to stitching away in a relaxed flow.  I struggled to get half of my heart stitched, merely the very inside rim done....in two hours.   Inwardly, I kept repeating, "I don't think I can do this."  I came home with a splitting headache.  

I tend to obsess over challenges I can't figure out so I retreated to my safe place--a book.  I read different instructions from the spoken ones offered by my teacher and studied the step-by-step photos that illustrated close up shots of the technique.  I knew with time to process and space to practice, I could do this. It might not be pretty, small, or exact but it would eventually happen. First, I needed to understand the flow of needle, thimble, and thread, so I practiced....and slowly my shoulders relaxed, my mind quieted, and stitches began to appear more easily.

This first stab at hand quilting was never designed by our instructor as a finished product; yet I believe there is merit in keeping this rudimentary sample of this first foray into hand quilting.  Yesterday, I preserved it as pocket on a patchwork tote bag, a most useful reminder of the pitfalls along the path of persistence, patience, and perseverance.