A New Era of Quilting: A Conversation with @farmandfolk

I adore the work of Farm & Folk. They have brought quilt making into the new century in the most beautiful and timeless ways. Familiar classic time honored designs with a fresh feel. I wanted to learn more about Sara, the owner, and her story. | This story originally ran in FOLK’s Tourist Welcome issue.

I’M SARA BUSCAGLIA OF FARM & FOLK AND ANCIENT FUTURE FARM. I’m an organic farmer and textile artist. I work with natural dyes derived from plants and minerals and apply them to organic cotton and linen fabrics, then use the fabrics to make heirloom quality hand-stitched quilts. My family grows a lot of the food that we eat and we’re always striving to be more self-sustainable in that way.

I first became a maker when my first son was born and I took time off from farming to care for him. I found myself a little lonely and needing something to do, so my friend convinced me to buy a sewing machine and a few patterns. That’s how I learned to sew and suddenly I was making my son little clothes and then making myself clothes. Sewing eventually led to knitting and when we bought our farm we got a flock of sheep, which led to me learning how to spin wool into yarn, which led to natural dyeing, and so on.  I think making is like that. Once you make something, the maker’s mindset is instilled in you. You think outside the box of buying something already made and learn how to make it yourself.

Quilt making came to me totally out of the blue about eight years ago. I had been sewing garments for my kids since they were born and had a scrap basket that was overflowing with all the remnants left over from those garments. I was going to send the scraps to the thrift store but had a sudden urge to attempt to turn them into a quilt. That first quilt was a simple patchwork-square quilt, and it came together much more easily than I expected it to. In my head, quilting was something that was very difficult, but it turned out to be a very fun and inspiring kind of challenge, and suddenly I was a quilt maker. That discovery of quilt making was so fulfilling to me because I was able to turn my passion for sewing into an art. Cutting up fabrics and creating expressive shapes that in turn became functional pieces of art felt and still feels radical.

To me, a quilt is a preservation of the maker’s love in the form of fibers and stitches. The colors and patterns that the maker chooses tell a unique and personal story. A quilt can be like an autobiography in that way. My mom has a Cathedral Window quilt that my great grandma made, and it’s a true expression of who my great grandmother was - the bright colors she used on a white background, and her perfect hand stitches. I have quite a few quilts that my grandma made which I was lucky to inherit, and they too are very much an expression of her personality. The brown and white solid and calico fabrics and the perfect tiny hand stitches tell her story and reflect who she was. My mom makes quilts that tell her story, and now I make quilts that tell mine. My choice to naturally dye fabrics, the style that I use to cut the fabrics up and sew them back together, and my imperfect hand stitches are an expression of who I am and my values.

During my journey as a quilt maker, I’ve learned so much about the history of quilts. For example, in 1856, an 18-year-old man named William Perkins was experimenting with synthesizing quinine, an anti-malarial drug. In an experiment with aniline he obtained a black precipitate, which he then extracted in alcohol to create a purple color, which he discovered was an amazing light- and wash-fast dye on silk. He patented his discovery in 1856.  This was the birth of synthetic dyes, which very quickly extinguished the natural dye industry because synthetic dyes were very cheap to produce and easy to apply. So all dyed fabrics and textiles, including quilts of course, were naturally dyed until 1856 when synthetic colors took over.

I believe that once you find your passion as a maker it’s all about commitment to your craft. It has taken me years to become confident in my work with natural dyes and the colors I create, and in my stitches and seams. Putting in the time and research and energy to improve my skill set, to dig deeper, and constantly evolve, is what keeps me going. It took me seven years to learn how to achieve a beautiful strong red on cotton fabric with madder root. These big achievements and the many, many small ones along the way are what keep me going and growing.

At this point I think my biggest success so far was in finding the confidence to launch my website. To put my work out there and begin selling it. That was such a giant leap. I wasn’t sure if anyone would be interested in my quilts, and when they began selling it was such an amazing feeling. It really helped me to have confidence in my work and to make more and to evolve and expand and improve.

Of course, along with successes come failures, but I don’t let the failures get me down. Most disappointing to me was perhaps the experience of failing at making a strong red dye for seven years. Projects that don’t work out after spending hours and hours of working on them can be very frustrating, but failures are so necessary! If I fail at something I get kind of obsessed with figuring out how to succeed. Failure is probably my biggest driving force.

To me, “slow living” means intentional living. You plant the seeds and take care of the plants, weed the garden. You are committed to that work. Harvest is the long-anticipated reward. It’s the polar opposite of buying something on the internet and having it arrive on your doorstep two days later. It’s building a fire on the hearth in winter from the wood you chopped on a hot summer day. It’s canning peaches from the peach tree you planted 15 years ago. It’s the selfless act of planting trees and caring for them and watching them grow slowly with the understanding that those trees will benefit generations of stewards that will come after you.

The biggest part of my way of slow living is planting my garden of food and dye plants. I also plant trees – they are the epitome of slow living! I raise chicks every spring and witness ducklings hatch. I bring in the harvest and fill the larder every fall with the food we grew in the summer. I tend the fire all winter and sew quilts made from fabrics I dyed with plants, and I hand stitch them. And then I do it all again when spring comes back around.

There’s a huge disconnect in modern society. Most people have never thought about where certain things come from. Folks go to the mall and buy a bunch of clothes but don’t really think about what they’re even buying or who made it or how it got to the store. Once I began making things it helped me to connect a lot of those dots. I began thinking about the work that goes into making a dress, for example, and where the fabric came from and how it was dyed and what kind of pollution those processes may have caused, and the people who worked in the factories and what they were exposed to. I don’t necessarily try to inspire people to think about these specific types of concepts but I think that when people see me making a quilt from scratch for instance, and they see all the work and love that goes into creating the colors, it really helps to encourage them to think about ways of slow living. I think when people see other people living slow lifestyles it helps to connect the dots of, for example, where food comes from and all the work and love and commitment it takes to produce it. It’s really easy to be unaware of these things because of all the distractions out there. Ads telling us to buy this and that. It’s not like you hear anything about food production on the nightly news or see garment factories and all the egregiously bad conditions that commercial agriculture workers and textile producers face. There’s plenty of information out there about it but you have to actually look for it, which is difficult when there are so many things distracting us.

I love the saying “do what you can with what you have.” I think that’s a great piece of life advice. Also, knowing that it’s the little things that can collectively turn into really big things. I think the most difficult part in life is making a decision about what you want to do. Once you make the decision, you find a way to make your plan happen and you get there one small step at a time.

I never really thought “I want to be a farmer,” it just happened, and I have never regretted it. I quit college two years in because it was time to choose my major. My advisor kept handing me this printed-out list of majors and told me it was time to pick one, and that I could always change my mind if it didn’t work out. There was nothing on that list that felt right for me and I felt like it would be a big waste of time and money to blindly choose a career. I quit school with the intention of taking a year off to figure out what I wanted to do. I met my husband a few weeks later and we eventually planted a garden which kept expanding and turned into a small farm. We got a booth at the farmers market and that’s how I found my career. It felt right so I kept at it. I figured it out by process of elimination and some good luck, hard work and dedication. I hope to never lose my inspiration because that’s my driving force. To make mistakes and learn from them as a person, as a farmer and as a business. To constantly evolve in all aspects.

Farming has taught me everything. It has been my biggest influence. When I’m out in the field pulling weeds or hoeing and I hear the birds above me, the insects buzzing, I think about the worlds of microbes and mycelial networks at my feet. It’s a serious vibe. It’s a connection to nature and to the food I grow that I cannot describe in words. It’s something you have to experience to understand. I can pause to watch an ant colony in action and gain a better understanding of the world through the ants. When I see the generations of crops sprouting every spring and returning to the earth every fall it reminds me that I am only here for a short time, that I too am part of that infinite life and death earth cycle.

Autumn is the smells of coffee, green chile, and hashbrowns in the morning kitchen. The golden light and crisp air. We harvest our potato crop in October and that always feels like a holiday. We have potato soup for dinner every potato harvest day. We harvest the pumpkins and dry beans and dry corn and store it away in the cellar. We light the fire again and give thanks for this good life.