Finding inspiration for our abstract quilt making can be fun but overwhelming when you don’t have a full and finished quilt pattern in mind; which is what improv quilting is all about of course!

Inspiration can come from anywhere, of course. The word inspiration means ‘to inhale’, so it’s taking in the things around you and sparking something fresh inside. This is like a breath of air for your body and your mind. 

I find that one little thing that I see can set off a rambling path of things. And my mind starts creating images that become a quilt idea, to become a possible improv pattern. Of course, with improv and abstract fabric piecing there is no set final outcome. But I do find that starting with a prompt gives me a great space to begin. 

My inspirations and ideas come from a variety of sources; from nature (trees, leaves, mushrooms, rings on a log) and from graphic lines of built environment (tall buildings, pavements, tiles in bathrooms). I also see so much when I visit an art gallery or open up an art book. 

The work of John Olsen. (When I lived in Cairns - years and years ago - I used to visit the local art gallery during my lunch breaks and sit looking at his work. I could have done that for the rest of my life and never got bored with it).
The triangle herringbone shapes on my fireplace flue protector. 
The artwork of Eva Hesse.
The linocuts of Angie Lewin. 
The drawings my children create.
The weave of a basket.
The drip lines of graffiti in our town. 
The shape of a fan.
Looking from a plane window on the ground below.

Inspiration doesn’t always have to be about pattern or shape. Sometimes it’s a colour combination - 

A leaf with a beetle with a flower. 
The bright pops of citrus. 
Or the muted tones of moss. 
A flower fallen in muddy water.
The underside of a leaf compared to it’s shiny bright top side. 

Sometimes it’s the pattern clash of two leaves side by side.Or a fashion designer who knows just how to do it right. Or a stylish person walking down the street. Or the shape and colour of a coffee cup sitting on a table.

Sometimes it’s simply the way the fabric cuts under my hands when I stand at my sewing table. 

Sometimes it’s about a feeling, rather than an actual image or colour. 

The way the sunset or the glint of moon rise across the ocean. 
The fuzzy feel of steam rising from a Winter’s creek.
A spider web sparkling with dew.
A moody watercolour painting.