Hi! My name is Liz and I’m the person behind Rozalee Designs. Originally, I planned on having my Giant Heart Bag pattern as my first blog post. After giving it some thought, I realized that a little introduction might be best to kick things off!

My journey to quilting hasn’t been linear, nor has it been easy. My mother, Lee Fowler, was a quilter for most of my life - I grew up with the ever-present hum of a sewing machine, handmade clothes and quilts on every bed. While I was in elementary school, she worked part time at a fabric store and I’d visit her at the end of her shifts. She’d plop me up on the cutting table with a stack of fat quarters and I’d fold them into little triangles while she cut yardage for customers. As I got older - and her talents continued to grow - she began to design quilt patterns and teach quilting classes. Sometimes, without a readily available babysitter, I’d sit in the back of her classes while women would sew, unintentionally soaking up information as she taught. By the time that I was in middle school, she’d bought a non-computerized long arm and began taking free motion clients within a year.

My mom passed away when I was 25 and she quilted up until the day before she died. Afflicted with a rare form of cancer that allowed for almost a decade of living with the disease, sewing was one of the ways she dealt with the difficult emotions around her illness. As her body betrayed her, myself and many of her friends would help where we could - loading quilts onto the long arm, attaching binding on her machine and even finishing some of her work posthumously. She was prolific, even in her shortened lifespan - there are too many quilts to get an exact count, but suffice to say, there are A LOT.

My relationship with quilting has largely been a reflection of my relationship with my mom and her death. I grew up intrigued - and being taught the basics - and an occasional part of her design process. When she was diagnosed and her work began to reflect that change, I aged into a bratty teenager that wanted to distance myself from her craft. As she expressed her frustrations through textiles, I moved towards photography and found my own path to expression through art. I eventually went to college to study fine art photography.

Now, with time and distance, I can see how her sewing work still effected my work in art school. Rather than just capturing and processing photographs, I took major liberties with my finished objects - I wove various physical prints together, I stitched fabric with paper and even embroidered lithographs. I was obsessed with pairing my photography work with sewing. Her gift to me as I left for college was a beginner sewing machine and it was loved.

When she finally passed away - I moved back to Oregon to be with her in her final years - sewing felt too raw, too connected to her. I helped pack up her basement studio with the help of my dad and many of her quilty friends, saving what I could, but I left a lot behind. (My largest regret is not asking to keep her long arm, but I was 26 and had no idea where I would have kept it.) Quilting and sewing still felt like hers, a craft that I’d enjoyed peripherally and through her love of it. I knew I wanted her domestic machine and some of her supplies/fabric, but I had no idea if I’d ever follow in her footsteps.

Before she passed away, we had started a quilt together. I designed a wedding quilt for a pair of friends - all on graph paper, just like she taught me - and it barely got started when she died. I shelved the project while I waited for the couple to set a date, but it started to loom within a year of her passing. With the help of a sewing friend, I pushed through and finished it just in time. Presenting it to them the day before, letting them in on the fact that I started it with her, was a moment I’ll never forget. It also seemed to ignite a fire in me I haven’t been able to put out since.

With the help of my partner Edward (light of my life and keeper of all my secrets), my incredible father, and a pair of superb therapists, I started working through my grief with sewing. They helped me realize that I could access this beautiful part of her life with joy and respect, pushing through the pain rather than ignoring it.

In the past 5 years, I’ve moved away from my career in photography towards one in sewing, quilting and education. As I build a new life with this craft I love so deeply, it’s become a dream come true to share it with others, almost like I get to share a little of my mom with every sewing nerd I meet. While she can’t be here to sew alongside me, she’s here in everything I make - I use her sewing machine, I sew with her fabric, I cut with her fabric scissors and I snuggle under so many of her quilts. Soon, I’ll even be re-releasing some of her patterns.

The name for this business - Rozalee - is an amalgamation of three names:

• Roxie: the dog that helped pull me out of a deep depression and got my heart beating again after feeling lost.

• Liza: my childhood nickname and a version of myself I’ve felted haunted by, thinking it was the last time I was truly happy. Now I see it as a representation of my inner child.

• Lee: my mother’s name and the woman who inspired me to follow in her footsteps.

I truly hope I can live up to my mother’s name and her incredible career in quilting, but I’m 100% sure about one thing: she would be overjoyed to know I’m sewing again. Even if I never made a cent from quilting or won a quilt show award or finished another pattern, she’d be so proud that I’m here. Quilting and loving it.

Thanks for coming to my little slice of the quilty internet, I’m so happy you’re here! I have a lot of fun things coming and I can’t way to share them with all of you.

Lots of love,

Liz

Intro to Rozalee Designs

Rozalee Designs

liz@rozaleedesigns.com