Where a pattern begins

Every pattern in the studio starts in the same place. A battered sketchbook on the kitchen table, and a slow cup of tea.

I keep a separate book for each season, mostly because I can never find a pen when I need one and a fresh book is a good excuse to buy a new one. The earliest pages are usually awful. A wonky block, a piecing plan that doesn't quite tessellate, a fabric palette that looked lovely in my head and like a muddy puddle on paper.

That's where the slow part comes in. I don't sketch and stitch in the same week. I leave a pattern to rest for a few days, sometimes longer, and only come back to it when I've forgotten exactly what I was thinking. The bits that survive that test are the bits worth making.

If you're working on your own pattern, the only advice I have is to let it sit. Put it down. Walk the dog. Come back. The pattern you make on the third visit is almost always the one you wanted.