Tammy Gilley

I love fabric. I love the feel of it, the smell of it, what I can do with it. I am a fourth generation quilter, having made my first quilt for my doll’s bed when I was 7 years old.

Along with French vocabulary, my mother taught me as a young girl to sew and embroider. I remember days spent with her and my grandmother around our dining room table, each of us working on our own projects and having lovely conversations. It was my first memory of growing into my woman-ness. I really had a sense that this was woman’s work, and that was important, and creative, and wonderful.

Eventually, Mom taught me how to quilt. She was a very traditional quilter, and my style is much more funky. We quilted together for many years. These are memories, and quilts, that I treasure.

I began creating quilts based on my mother’s designs, which I took from her sewing room just after she passed away last year. She was so gifted, and had designed dozens and dozens of quilts. As I began to work with her designs, I felt like I was back at that dining room table with her, working on our projects.

And now, I’m creating my own quilt designs.

I do very few things quietly, and quilting is no exception. Where my mother’s quilts were more traditional, much more precise, my style is a bit wonky, more free-spirited, a riot of color... well, rather on the wild side. Still, with every sketch, with every stitch, I feel Mom gently guiding me. This was her gift.

How very fortunate I am, indeed. With the voices of generations of quilters before me nudging me on, I happily create in my sewing room these little quilted treasures. They tickle me pink and feed my soul. I hope they’ll feed yours as well.