Studio

The Importance of Backing Up: Looking before You Leap

| ellenanneeddy

There’s nothing like being on a roll with a piece. You’re sewing away. You have one more bit to do, or maybe three or maybe five. It’s a bit questionable but you push through because it’s so good to be done.

By now I should be prescient about that. That’s a ledge with a chasm right by it. And I should know I’m likely to fall. I did that this week.

three fish

I had that green heron quilt ready to go. Got the heron on. Looked at the fish and decided I needed an odd number. Three was a bit empty. So I decided on five.

five fish

Did I look? Actually I did. Did I think? Perhaps that’s the problem. My brain knows that odd numbers work better than even ones. My eye knew the fifth fish just didn’t fit in. I listened to my brain. Not so smart.

Theories don’t always work. If your eye tells you it’s wrong, then it’s wrong. Had I listened I would have saved myself three hours with a mustache trimmer and seam ripper. And a ruined fish.

Design is important. So is color. So is drawing. But in the end, it’s how the piece balances and flows when it’s all done. This is the part you can foul up with everything else right. And the answer is simple. You need to look at it.

Not just put it up and see. Put it where you can really analyze whether it balances and flows and whether there’s stuff.

I’m bad at this. That moment when I get that urge to finish…. it gets me every time I follow it.

So how do we look at a quilt differently?

Old school is to just back away far enough from it to see it. It’s not enough to see it laid on the table. You need to hang it to see it. I used to hang really large pieces off the porch and walked down the alley to really see it.

I’ve also used a a wide angle viewer. These let you view a big quilt in a small space. They are very valuable.

Another old school method is a ruby beholder, or a color evaluator. It’s a red or green piece of plastic where you can see the values in your quilt as opposed to the colors. It’s a huge help.

All of that steps back to a digital camera. And yes, your cell phone will probably do that.

Just get far enough back to photo the whole piece. And then, changed the photo to black and white. You can see the movement, whether something needs to be put over slightly to one side. Whether you’ve just got a hole or it’s too cluttered. Whether something disappears. It will also show you if you’ve got a value problem.

My bird is a bit subtle here. But I don’t think I mind that. He’s hunting after all, so he needs to be.

Leaves in place

It’s always better to do that before you sew things down. You would think I would learn. Experience is the best teacher, and some fools will have no other.

Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Fabric: With Apologies to Samuel R. Delany

| ellenanneeddy

I’ve worked on cleaning up the studio over the last two days. Finishing The Garth left me done in a lot of ways. It’s hard to change gears and start something new. Usually I fish around for what’s left over from something else to make something new. It’s kind of like stone soup. You start something out of pretty much nothing and throw things in. It works for me. It isn’t often I start something out of complete nothing. There’s something left over, and it needs it’s own place.

You can really measure time in objects. Certainly you can measure time in work you’ve done. I was thinking about how my work has changed over the years. I’ve been quilting since I was 21. I’m 68. I have had time to see the art quilt movement start, grow, boom, explode, and retreat a bit . But if I’m honest about it, much of what I did was about the fabrics that were available to me. So I thought I’d look back at some of my work, and show where it shifted for me. Please forgive some of these photos for their size and detail. Some of them are quite old and out of my hands.

Solid colors:

I made my first quilts as bed quilts. I made them. We used them. They died, as most bed quilts do.

After that I fell in love with Amish quilts. That kind of stitching can only show up on solids. They arrived on the quilt scene around in the beginning 1980’s . Of course I couldn’t hand stitch them either. I was a dreadful hand quilter always. I worked with a walking foot and quilting by counting four stitches over for each row.

Hand Dyed Cotton

I’d been dyeing fabric since I was ten. But it was a game changer when I started treating dyed fabric with sponge painting. It gave me a light source within the quilt that I didn’t need to piece.

Sheer Fabrics:

I discovered sheers and laces as applique for translucent things like water, air, fire and flower petals. It gave me a way of layering things objects. It’s a cool trick and I still use it.

Weird brocades:

I first came into fancy brocades at the textile discount outlet in Chicago. But I’ve hunted them ever since. They make magnificent bugs.

Hand Dyed Cheesecloth:

Hand dyed cheesecloth makes a marvelous sheer. And It acts just like cotton because it is cotton. Here I used it to make mountains, but I’ve used it for flowers, mushrooms, rocks, and all kinds of things. The texture is cool too.

Oil Stick Rubbed Fabric

Oil Rubbed Fabric.

For as much as I avoided prints and textures, I’ve now fallen in love with the textures I can create with paint stick rubbed fabrics.

As I was cleaning out my studio I found all of these things. Some of them I use constantly. Some of them I see as a thing I outgrew a while ago. But art is not measured by our products. It’s measured by learned skill, new ideas and inspiration in use.

Thinking Outside the Box: That’s Not What You’re Supposed To Use That For

| ellenanneeddy

I remember being told I should color within the lines. It’s probably just as well I never was able to do that. I’m certainly not about to start now.

I’ve been totally hooked on paintstick rubbing. Like everything else, it’s a tool to be used with other tools. I’ve been exploring more and more how to incorporate different plates with each other in design. Here’s the latest batch.

I love them. And I’ve recently found some iridescent paint sticks in colors that didn’t come in the kits.

There’s only one limit I don’t like. The plates tend to be small. You can repeat all you like. But they don’t lend themselves to larger pieces. Not to worry. I decided there needed to be a way. I went looking for more kinds of rubbing plates. The choices are limited.

I tried drawing with glue on placemats. I tried carving foam. I got desperate and bought some fondant plates. All too small or not quite enough. Or a huge mess. Not satisfactory.

Not everything that works marvelously was made for that purpose. Some of the best tools of the quilt world have been borrowed from some odd places. My favorite thread bags were originally worm bags for fishing. Rotary cutters started as carpet cutters, I’m told. Surgical seam rippers really are a surgical tool some brilliant nurse brought in to their quilting studio.

So in that same spirit, I bought some ceiling tiles. They’re two feet by two feet. And beautiful! Stiff textured plastic. Exactly like a rubbing plate, only bigger.

Here’s what they look like rubbed. I’m in love!

So I’m not supposed to use ceiling tiles that way? Isn’t a good thing I didn’t pay any attention to those rules? I think so.

Hello, My Darlings: You Are the Heart of My Art

| ellenanneeddy

There aren’t many times in your life when you bring home a new sewing machine. Even for those who work in the industry, it’s a red letter day.

Thursday, I brought home a new to me (gently used ) 770 Bernina from Feed Mill Fabrics and Quilting in Oneida, IL. Don took this picture of me having fallen into the machine sewing. Yes. Like that. I sew until the machine and I are one.

I’m not a high tech girl, and I’ve worked most of my life on mechanical machines. But there are things about this bemouth that are to love. The throat size. The quiet motor. The speed of it. The excellence of the stitch.

My 630 is gratefully on the side as a backup, but I can see this new machine is going to take center stage of my sewing. It’s just as well the dogs and cats are banned from the studio, because I think it could eat a cat solid. We just won’t go there.

You don’t just buy a sewing machine. You buy the ability of a sewing machine. You buy the ability it gives you. I don’t need the embroidery capability. But this is the kind of solid sewing I crave, and what I test out every day doing the crazy stitching I do.

So this is what I did the first day I brought it home. I stitched my ass off for an afternoon, 12,000 stitches according to the machine! It ran like a top.

It needs a moth, I think!

Most of all, I’m touched by the support I’ve had. Don has believed in me and given me more backing than I’ve known in my life. He gave me my studio and walked me into get this machine. He leaves me amazed. He sits in the studio and cheers me on day after day. I adore him.

We kind of crisped our plastic purchasing it, but it was possible at all because people like you bought quilts and made it possible. The quilts are all still on sale until Sept. 21, in case you would like one, or like to help.

But all of you who helped me, bought quilts, backed me up, went to my classes, read my blogs and have wished me well, Thank you! You’ve made it possible for me to follow my art. You are a part of my heart and my heart.

You can hear me with my heart beating in time with the machine. I’m in love.

No Place Like Home: Quilt Stores Make Our Community

| ellenanneeddy

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of doing a live Facebook show with Beth Rylander in her delightful shop, Feed Mill Fabrics and Quilting in Oneida, IL. I talked about free motion stitchery, and brouht in a small trunk show of work.

I’d visited Beth’s lovely shop, looking for a new Bernina. I believe I’ve found my machine, a lovely 770 that is coming in as an experienced machine someone has pre loved for me.

Today was so much fun! She does this every Saturday. She reaches out to her group by doing a live show weekly, so people can know what is new, fun, exciting and there for them.

Beth’s shop is stuffed stem to stern, and top to bottom with beautiful fabrics. And she not only sells Berninas, she has two lady mechanics. I’m impressed.

But her store bears something much more precious even that fabric. She has made a store in a feed mill in Oneida, that is a community for a huge circle of other women, like you and like I who love fabric, sewing, and each other’s company. What a quilting store does best is it makes community. Which is why all quilt stores are precious, and need our support. Because they support us all.

Here is the video we ran this morning.

Farewell, My Lovely: What Can You Do When Your Sewing Machine Dies?

| ellenanneeddy
Quilts 40% off!

It’s the words no one wants to hear. Yes, if it’s stopped changing stitches, the board is probably going out soon. Gasp. No. It’s my machine!

Lots of desperation here. I do have backups, but they are not meant as major machines and they won’t back me up long.

My dear friend Elaine always knew when I called her at 7am, that I’d trashed my machine again. I’d call to ask if I could borrow hers. She’d thank me for having waited until 7, That bad.

I may be retired, but I’ve sewn and quilted all my life and probably will until they dig the final hole. I need a new machine.

But the other difference when you’re retired is that the easy money is much harder to find. So I’ve put all my quilts on a 40 % sale. I have a number of great new works at every price range. And I’m willing to let them go to make sure I can get a new machine. The sale will be on until September 21.

If you’ve been wanting a quilt of mine, this is the best time! The prices won’t go lower, because they really can’t. And I have some fabulous new work.

  • 842 Hosta Moon
  • 866 Arabesque Rose

IF you are new to my work, please take some time to see what I’ve made. I feel each quilt is a separate world of it’s own, there to warm you from your wall, visually.

Prices on the web page and on Etsy will show the full price and give you the discount in your cart.

I’m asking your help to replace my machine.

Thanks!

What Makes You Clean Your Studio?

| ellenanneeddy

It’s not a natural thing for me. I clean. Once every twenty years, if necessary. There’s something to be said for that. You don’t want to rmess up a functioning system. Right.

I used to perform a service for people with unsupportive life mates who did not understand creative clutter. I would take them through my studio, through the thread wads, archeological book dig, archeological project dig, past the dye puddles do the archeological dirty dish dig. People would run out the back door of my one bedroom screaming that their mate could do anything, have anything, if they didn’t let it get that bad. I’m not quite there yet. I’ll offer the service again when everything silts up.

Forward to this morning. I couldn’t find my clip on magnifiers anywhere. Not anywhere. And there is no way for me to thread monofilament nylon without them. After two hours of breaking thread and taking twenty minutes to thread the machine each time I looked over the 9 pieces that needed monofilament nylon and decided I could either go home or sulk properly in a corner. I ended up emptying 9 drawers of polyester thread looking for Bottom Line. And sorting my whole polyester thread collection.

How do I sort thread? By content, by size, by purpose and by color. I’ve learned that if I pull out 10 spools of thread for a piece, unless I’m careful, they go into a basket that gets dumped into a drawer somewhere where none of it’s friends live. Finding them after that is an exercise in chance. All at cleaning up doesn’t sort anything.

All the #40 weight polys, the #30 weigh metallics, the #8 weight metallics, the #5 and #10 pearl cottons have a section of their own. And then I sort them by colors. So I can pick up a bag of thread and have all of that color at my fingertips. Until that messes up.

Bottom line, I don’t clean until I can’t find what I need. I’m also missing a bag of moths. I’ll either clean and sort until I find them or make more. Whichever comes first.

Nine drawers later, not yet, I will have sorted out all the poly embroidery thread. It wouldn’t have happened at all if my glasses hadn’t disappeared.

An End to Winter: Back to the Studio

| ellenanneeddy
Daylily Dance

Winter is this huge interference of snow and ice on a perfectly nice season. Mostly it’s a waiting time. I hate waiting. Not a skill I have.

I’ve spent the last two months recovering from two knee surgeries to repair a previous surgery. If it sounds like it sucked rocks, you’re right. Everyone was kind, and I purposely spared everyone details and day-to-days of my recovery. I’m mostly through it. It’s all over but the rehab and the shouting.

It’s like everyone else who goes through this. It’s a sparse time separated from your life. I crocheted edged handkerchiefs as a new thing I wanted to learn. It got as bad as that. But it fills time and doesn’t hurt, so that made it worth the candle

So when Don said I was going to the studio, I was worried. About the big step at the back door. About how long I could sit with my knee dangling. And always, did my creativity dry up during this sparse enforced winter of healing.

Silly me. Got the step in one bounce. Worked for about three hours and started a triptic I’ve been dreaming about for some while.

Here’s my bits about the new tryptic. I want to revisit Daylily Dance with more butterflies and caterpillars. Here’s the backgrounds I chose.

Background choices
Tryptic panels

Here’s some flower bits.

Is my creativity on board? I don’t think I need to worry about that. More quilts in my head than I can count.

I still have some rehab I would like to avoid but can’t. But at bottom line, I’m back where I belong.

I hope all your winters are short and productive. I hope spring finds us all whole in ourselves and with each other in kindness. I hope spring brings us the new flowers of creativity to change the world with the things we make with our hands.