Click here to see a detail of the irises, here for the wisteria.

I made this quilt in 1995 to enter the Hoffman Challenge; click here to see a piece of the Challenge fabric. I had decided that my work was too rigid, too confined; that I needed to loosen up, be more creative, more artistic. So I decided to make this quilt without planning and laying out every little piece first. I would just cut lots of odd shapes of assorted wisteria fabrics, and appliqued them down. Well, I stressed over every single piece. I agonized over my fabric choices--did *this* fabric really look like wisteria trunk? Do wisteria and irises really bloom at the same time? Will this piece of marbled (by me, in a workshop) fabric *really* be okay for water? Am I done yet? Ad nauseum. It became the quilt from hell. I had to finish it, because I was committed to doing the Challenge. Why? Because I said I would. So I kept on plugging along, whining over every little bit, until it was done. I hated it, but I entered it anyway, and it was accepted into one of the travelling shows and made the rounds. Once I got it back, I still hated it for a little while. Then I hung it in my dining room, and decided I liked it okay.

One day, before the quilt was finished, one of my kids asked me what paradise was. And as I was explaining, it occurred to me that I was trying to depict my vision of paradise in this quilt. Hence the name. Clearly the subtitle needs no explanation.

After the quilt had been home for a while, it was included in a show at the Hanover Tavern to raise money for the Richmond Symphony. Someone saw it there and tracked me down through the guild to offer to buy it. I wasn't ready to let it go then, and I felt that no amount of money was worth letting it go. Within the year, I gave it to my friend Dana, who had listened to all my whining about the process with her usual degree of patience. I think she earned it. (2000)