My parents were creative people.
My mom enjoyed sewing and knitting. She always had a project in process.
When we were young, my sisters and I joined my mom on fabric store outings.
My mom walked through the aisles of fabrics, lightly touching many.
Occasionally, she stopped for a closer look.
We followed in her footsteps feeling fabrics too.
Fabric store outings are still a favorite. The possibilities of creating something unique was and is wonderful.
When I shop for fabrics, I find myself touching fabrics as my mom did and understand the appeal.
I love that I inherited her love of fabric.
My father was an architect.
Growing up, my sisters and I spent time at his office.
The space had warehouse height ceilings with large, hanging white globe lights.
The furnishings were earth toned, very modern and low yet comfortable.
The entry space held miniature landscapes of the firm's building designs.
The glass conference room stored poster sized black and white photos of finished projects designed in the office.
Drafting tables lined the outer wall of the space.
On each table there were big sheets of drafting paper with drawings in process, multiple sizes and types of pencils, eraser bags and a dozen or more different kinds of shape makers and rulers. The creative energy in the space was endless.
It was an appealing and inspiring place to spend time.
One of the drafting chairs from my dad's office is now in my studio, I love it and use it daily.