Dec. 17, 2022, 1:20 p.m.

The Fold: Sink Into Sanctuary.

The Fold, a letter from artist Sarah Atlee

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Photo of the sun setting behind Stonehenge.
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By Jeffrey Pfau - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, click image to view source.

This issue of The Fold may not be super-crisp, because my Mom had unexpected eye surgery this week, and I'm looking after her. She's doing great, and recovering well. Healing vibes are welcome!

This is also the last issue for 2022.

The Longest Night

​Solstice is almost here. It's a time that has come to resonate more with me than Christmas does. I'm not Christian, nor was I raised to be. But I've grown more sensitive to the Earth's seasons and how they make themselves known in our viscera.

The winter solstice is the shortest day and the longest night of the year. Humans have been observing and marking the occasion since at least Neolithic times. There are numerous solstice celebrations happening right now across the northern hemisphere. Yule. Shalako. Dongzhi. Hogswatch. (Okay, that last one is made up, but technically, all holidays are.)

Book cover illustration for Hogfather by Terry Pratchett.
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It's in our blood, our bones. We gather, shelter one another, pool our resources, feast, and prepare for the winter ahead.

How does the longest night show up in you? Are you cold? Does your body want to curl up? Are you eating lots of rich foods? (I hope so!) Do you habitually brace yourself against the wind?

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I feel all those things about now. I also feel a deep desire to look back, release the previous year, and make room for whatever's next. My space starts to feel too cluttered. I have moments of what Kendra Adachi calls "big black trash bag energy." So I try to remain intentional about what I release. Soon I'll be naming the new year (more on that in January).

My favorite thing about winter, though? Having too many quilts becomes the best problem.

Safety Blankie

Photo of a patchwork quilt, made from a variety of fabrics. The center is a large square of bright orange fleece.
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Safety Blankie​
Deconstructed garments and other cotton fabrics, machine pieced and quilted. 45 x 42 inches.
$830 Click here to purchase.​

I made Safety Blankie while I was an artist residence at the Jentel Arts Foundation in 2017. One night I had a bad dream, and woke up literally groping for something safe to snuggle under. I thought, "Where's my blankie?" It wasn't there, so I made myself one.

Jentel is tucked into a beautiful corner of rural Wyoming, with ranches neighboring on all sides. Residents are instructed very clearly not to go anywhere on foot without donning at least two articles of safety orange (or chartreuse, if you want to mix it up).

Obviously, my quilt needed to wear orange, too. I trawled local thrift shops until I found the perfect fleece vest in - you guessed it - bright orange. For safety.

Sarah sits on a couch under a quilt. The top half of her head is visible. The center of the quilt is a large piece of bright orange fleece.
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Safety Blankie can help you feel safe and secure, too! I promise you'll have good dreams underneath it. Click here to bring it home.​

Photo of a person holding a folded patchwork quilt. The person is wearing a tan coat, and their hands are visible.
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Photo by Tavi Veraldi​

Do you enjoy makers' stories as much as I do? Check out Grace Rother's newsletter. Here are her eloquent remarks on the beginning of wool season. (Support a fellow maker by upgrading to the paid edition!)

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Photo of a quilted table runner sitting folded on a black background.
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Looking for a last-minute gift?

Do you love giving your people functional art that can be used every day? Click here to browse available quilts in my web store.​

I've closed potholder orders for the season, but you can still get them from these retail locations:

​DNA Galleries in Oklahoma City (map)

​108 Contemporary in Tulsa, OK (map)

​SYNESTHESIA popup shop at the Fred Jones, Jr. Museum of Art in Norman, OK (map)

A GIF For Those Who Read This Far

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May you have shelter, plenty, comfort, and peace. See you in '23.​
xoxo Sarah

You just read issue #19 of The Fold, a letter from artist Sarah Atlee. You can also browse the full archives of this newsletter.

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