The Houston Quilt Festival is always a marathon, of sorts. Most mornings, I left the hotel well before sunrise, headed down to the convention center and prepared my classroom for the day’s creative adventure. Daylight eluded me. I spent most of my time in windowless rooms full of sewing machines and eager students. After each class, I took the elevator down to a colorful world of awe-inspiring quilts. One morning I had a later schedule. We drew back the curtains and there was the sun, just rising over the downtown Houston skyline. The foggy window made it look so vague and romantic, like a painting by Monet or perhaps Whistler. Hello sun. Hello daylight.