Finding Refuge in Craft
Do you see your craft
As refuge or an escape—are they different?
When I run the Improv That Block Squad, or any class or in-person retreat that I offer, my guiding intention is to create a sanctuary and refuge for improv quilters and makers.
A community for restorative creative practice that gently supports self-acceptance, reflection, and honest making rooted in each person’s lived experience and values, is a place of refuge —a steady place to land, an anchor in the storm
Yes it’s fun AND it’s far from an escape; it’s intentional, grounding, and woven into the rhythms of everyday life, —a practice you can return to, again and again.
Making is my sanctuary and place of refuge. Refuge is the state of being safe and sheltered from harm. When I find refuge in craft, it becomes a sanctuary where I can be brave, curious, compassionate, and at ease—where I can know and speak my truth, reflect, and grow. It becomes a source of self-discovery and alignment, to stay in touch with joy, wonder, sadness, and fear—all that makes me human.
With hands, heart, and mind engaged, I create something authentic and aligned with my values. That practice can heal me and help keep me whole during chaotic times. When the world tilts toward imbalance and unchecked force, tending the inner flame of my humanity becomes more urgent. Finding refuge in craft keeps me whole; it is not an escape into numbness, disconnection, or inaction. Instead it is a life-affirming immersion into a felt sense of who I am and what is right, honest, and good within.
I think of Superman’s Fortress of Solitude: an arctic crystalline structure grown from a Kryptonian crystal that serves as his sanctuary, laboratory, and repository of knowledge. In that place he drops the Clark Kent facade and remembers where he is from, gets clear on his mission, and takes time to heal. He doesn’t live there forever. He returns when he needs to ground, recharge, and prepare to act.
Making is my fortress of solitude, my sanctuary. It’s not about hiding; it’s about returning—again and again—to a practice that reminds me of my center. In the quiet of cut cloth, the rhythm of piecing or knitting, the attentiveness of color and seam, I come back to myself. From that grounded place I move into the world with clearer intention, steadier courage, and renewed willingness to meet complexity with care.
Still from Superman, 1978, ©Warner Bros. Superman in the Fortress of Solitude, reconnecting with his ancestors.
Craft made in refuge ignores capitalism, deadlines, and the pressure to be efficient, perfect, or “right.” I am not on the clock. I am not producing. There is no hustle, no keeping up, no measuring myself against someone else’s highlight reel. I create at my own pace—following curiosity, lingering where it feels satisfying, letting projects breathe without an end goal.
When I make from refuge, the work becomes practice rather than product. Stitches, seams, and scraps are ways back to myself: sensory anchors that steady my attention and open my heart. This kind of making restores sanity when the world feels frantic. It reclaims integrity by honoring choices that aren’t dictated by profit or external validation. It returns agency by reminding me that I can set my own rhythm and standards.
That internal repair matters beyond the studio. When I’m grounded in refuge, I’m less likely to be coopted by every urgency. I can hold complexity and stay connected to others without burnout. I’m more able to listen, to act deliberately, to speak clearly. That might look like contacting leaders, showing up at a protest, tending to a neighbor, or taking small, courageous steps inside my sphere of influence. Those actions are fueled by the steadiness that comes from making with care.
Making in refuge is an ethical practice. It cultivates a capacity for sustained engagement—so we can return, again and again, to collective work for safety and justice. It also models an alternative economy of time: one where satisfaction, curiosity, and connection are measures of value. In that model, craft is not escape from the world but a way to prepare for it—so we can act from fullness, not from depletion.
If you feel overwhelmed by current events, resist the urge to numb or withdraw. Instead, take the smallest step toward creating in refuge. Making something honest, beautiful, and at times even revelatory—something that brings you peace and joy and engages your mind and spirit in restorative flow—is no small thing. It’s resistance, it’s powerful. It matters.
Journal Prompt: Write one short phrase that speaks to you. Think about why it matters. Do you see your craft as refuge, retreat, escape, or a mix? What do you need most from your craft now? How can you engage in craft to support your well-being and the higher good? Name one small step you can take today or this week.
Practice Improv quilting as Sanctuary with me and other wonky makers in 2026
FREE Improv Scrap Play Class / Sign up to watch the video replay
Brave Patch School Public Square a free space or the Groove a peer-to-peer mentoring community
Improv That Block Squad / January-June online community course
Improv That FAN Quilt-Along / January 31, 12-3 pm et / online class
Blossom Retreat at Clos Mirabel / May 2-9 / Pau France / 1 spot left
The Art of Sustainable Quilting Retreat / July 6-10 / Madeline Island WI
Intuitive Color Quilt Stories in Abstract Piecing / July 26-August 1 / Geneva NY
Check my Quilt Classes page for newly added events.
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Finding refuge in craft keeps me whole; it is not an escape into numbness. It is a life-affirming immersion into a felt sense of who I am and what is right, honest, and good within. From that grounded place I move into the world with clearer intention, steadier courage, and renewed willingness to meet complexity with care.