By Diane Harris, HQ Stitch Brand Ambassador

I started the quilting on a decades-old UFO yesterday, and as I was stitching along in the ditch, it occurred to me that every quilt I make has a purpose. Even if I fail to think about the purpose, it’s always there.

As I mulled it over, I concluded that it would free us up tremendously if we settled in our minds the purpose of any quilt we create. Then, no matter what happens in the process, we know exactly what we’re after.

This quilt is a good example. I had blocks from guild members given to me at the end of a leadership term in the late 80s. That’s more than 30 years ago. They look better here than they did in person, but dusty Williamsburg blue was the color of the day.

I decided a few months back that I had just one goal:

Make something creative and unexpected from the blocks.

You can read the whole story of how this quilt top evolved but what I’m getting at here is that once the top was done, I had already fulfilled this quilt’s purpose. I’d stretched my creative muscles and enjoyed it.

I cut the blocks diagonally and added scrappy red triangles to create something entirely different from what I’d ever imagined they could be.

Now that it’s time to quilt, I’m as relaxed as can be because the quilt’s purpose has already been fulfilled. At this point there is nothing to worry about, nothing to prove.

I can just enjoy the process of quilting.

Which is a good thing because its wonkiness meant that the ditch was, shall we say, circuitous. I just kept on quilting and didn’t worry about it. What freedom! What fun!

Sometimes the ditch has awkward angles. Quilt on.

I decided that straight-ish lines would be good on the blue and white. But I discovered that there are straight lines, straight-ish lines, wobbly lines, gently curving lines, very curvy lines and lines made in wild abandon. This quilt ended up with all those kinds, and I’m fine with that.

Some lines are more curvy than others. Quilt on.

In the red and pink areas, I thought I’d practice my Christina Cameli combos.

I took a class called Wild Quilting from Christina on Craftsy and this is one of my recent practice pieces.

But about five minutes in, I knew that was the wrong decision.

This is a git-r-done quilt,

not a masterpiece. I didn’t want to spend days on the quilting, I just wanted to hold the layers together. Some quilts are like that and it’s perfectly fine that they are.

I started with Christina Cameli combos but changed my mind. Quilt on.

Will I spend time ripping out that start?

No I will not.

Leah Day says that ripping out bad quilting will make you good at ripping, but it will not make you a better quilter. I’m on board with that. The wrong-start quilting stays in.

Imperfect Ribbon Candy. Quilt on.

I finished up with some ribbon candy in the border, and to be honest it’s not very good. I was in a hurry and I was ready to be done.

I see texture, not mess-ups. Quilt on.

But you know what? When I tossed it on the floor, those imperfections didn’t seem to matter. I’m seeing nice texture and that’s good.

So in reality, not only did this quilt fulfill its initial purpose, it also served as a terrific practice piece for machine quilting. I wrote its story on a label and all I have left is to attach it.

Mission accomplished.

Done and DONE!