Twilight Color Palette

I've been inspired lately when walking through the garden, or standing under the oak tree, in those last moments before night truly sets in. The air, the trees, everything takes on an ethereal quality. The world turns blue in that last moment of dusk. Have you ever noticed how, as the sun sets, and dusk settles, there are stages of twilight?

The sunset blazes, the world is orange, yellow, purple and pink.

The sun sinks just behind the horizon, the sky is still ablaze, but the ground is colored with muted violet.

Then, in that last breath between night and day, the sun's light has faded from the sky, but misty blues and greens mixed with deep shadows and accents of moonlit white seem to spring up from the earth itself. Even your skin takes on a bluish cast. If magic exists, it happens in this moment.


I've created this fabric color palette for the Dreaming at Dusk mosaic contest at Stitched in Color. Head over to create your own palette and view the other gorgeous palettes and inspiration.



To all the gross chairs

To Jenna at ColdAntler Farm,

This post resounds with me. I too, have hand-me-down overly used furniture. My furniture tells a different tale. The giant, once nice, but not my style, burgundy sectional sofa was a castoff from a family who probably has more money than sense. It was, however, generously offered and graciously received. There were a few small tears in the back, but not bad. After nearly two years in the the TLC of my three young boys, I found myself today thelling them to put giant wads of stuffing back into the couch and that it was not to be used as pretend snow for their blanket igloos.

My choices are reflected in that sofa too. I chose to be a stay at home, homeschooling, kinda crunchy (mostly from necessity), mom of 4 incredible kiddos. My husband works so hard to keep this dream a reality. It's not easy. Some days I dream of time alone, time for hobbies, for other adults to talk to, to get to go to the grocery store without reminding my rambunctious offspring not to climb and jump off the palates of flour or hide in the store refrigerators. I digress.

I am thankful for secondhand furniture because even though my burgundy faux leather and olive drab canvas sofas don't match, I can relax and laugh when my 7yr old practices jumping and flipping off them, or when the two year old uses the couch cushions like a slide, when my five yr old builds a fort with the cushions that ends in a dog pile from his brothers. I don't have to frantically run for upholstery cleaners to protect my investment when my baby girl spits up or a diaper change goes awry. These messes get cleaned up after my kiddos have been cared for and when it's convenient.

A wise woman once said, “You CAN have it all, but you can't have it all at the same time.” These choices have also added up to a dream I have held dear since I was a small girl. Other girls dreamed of wedding dresses and Prince Charming. I dreamed of Cowboys, adventure and owning my own farm and the Black Stallion. These dreams gave way before a dream I didn't even know I wanted, being a mom and wife. But I have nurtured my lifelong dream all this time through gardening, making my own food from real ingredients, and any small hobby that reminds me of the old way of doing things. I also live vicariously, through YOU and others like you. And after Eight long years of ugly sofas and carpet that needed replacing six years ago, I am This. Close. to maybe, just maybe purchasing that land, to build that barn, plow a new garden with a cow and have a whole mess of chickens, and be able to turn my kids loose on acres of land where they can run and scream and be as loud as they want without disturbing the neighbors while my husband and I look on while holding hands on the front porch.

So here's to you, Jenna, and all the falling-apart furniture that represents so much more.