Finding Your Artistic Voice
Last week, my husband and I wandered through Santa Fe, where adobe walls glow like warm sand at sunset and creativity hangs in the air like chile peppers drying in the plaza.
While we at lunch at the Plaza Cafe, I was distracted by a hummingbird darting in and out of the flowers.
We strolled through the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum. She does so much more than oversized flowers. And those flowers gave me wonderful ideas for my 3-D applique!
Then, we braved the bustle of the Annual Indian Market — hundreds of artists, each with their own medium, tradition, and twist.
Of course, I was soaking it all in with a quilter’s eye. I wanted to incorporate all those beads in my next project. The wirework whispered “metallic threads.” The weavers’ color play echoed fabric auditions at my cutting table. And then, tucked among the booths, I stopped in my tracks.
A Doorway at the Indian Market
The paintings of Timothy Nevaquaya practically vibrated off the canvas. His work wasn’t the muted earth and gem tones I often expect in Indigenous art. Instead, he layered saturated tints against bold silhouettes, carving vibrant textures into his oils with heavy knife work. The effect was alive, electric, impossible to ignore.
I asked him about it. He told me that for years he studied and mimicked traditional styles but never felt fully at home in them. One night, he thought he had “messed up.” In trying to fix the piece, he made it “worse”—and yet, it was also better. That accident became a doorway into a new realm, where he finally found his own artistic voice.
I quipped, “So, a happy accident?” (channeling my inner Bob Ross).
He shook his head, serious but smiling:
“No — it was more like moving through a doorway.”
That stopped me cold.
As artists, we all long for one of those moments — where frustration and persistence collide, and suddenly we’re not imitating anymore. We’re creating.
My Doorway into 3D Appliqué

“My own ‘doorway moment’ in fabric: a growing garden of dimensional appliqué blocks. Each one a reminder that what started as a ‘mistake’ has blossomed into a whole new style.”
For me, that doorway was 3-D appliqué. I was frustrated with shadowing and bulk in fusible appliqué, and in the process of trying to “fix” it, I stumbled into layering, quilting first, and dimensional stitching. What felt like a mistake at first opened into a whole new world — my Applismith method.
The Paintings We Brought Home
We were so moved by Timothy’s work that we brought three pieces home: The Power and Strength of the Apache, The Dance of Healing, and Mountain Spirit Song. Each carries a presence that feels alive — strength, movement, and spirit. Now, when I look at them, I’m reminded not only of his story, but also of my own “doorway moment” as a quilter.
Bringing those paintings home felt symbolic. The Power and Strength of the Apache speaks to the courage we need as artists to keep going when the work feels hard. The Dance of Healing reminds me that creating — whether with brush or needle — has the power to restore us when life frays at the edges. And Mountain Spirit Song feels like the echo of something bigger, the way art can carry tradition, place, and voice into the future.
Quilting as Strength, Healing, and Spirit
Quilting does this too. Every stitch we make holds strength, healing, and spirit — sometimes quietly, sometimes boldly, but always carrying a story forward.
💭 What about you? Have you had a quilting moment where frustration turned into discovery? Next time a block feels “ruined,” pause before you chuck it in the WOMBAT pile (Waste Of Money, Batting, And Time 😉). It just might be the doorway to your own signature style.
Happy Quilting!
Laureen



