I finished four quilts this week. Partially for the joy of it, Partially to fill the time.
Swirling Leaves
Butterfly Pond
Ginko Butterfly
Heron Pond
Heron Pond Detail
My body is betraying me. I have an infection in my replaced knee and we’re going to have to clean it out, let it heal and replace the knee. It’s a three month process.
Can I quilt? I don’t know. The question is, can I walk into the car and the studio. We’ll find out. We don’t know.
I hate the words, ‘We don’t know.’
What I know is that time forced away from your creative flow doesn’t stop it. It finds a way. Through quilts, through words, through my hands, through my dreams, through my prayers.
We came back from the surgeon who told us that instead of doing surgery now, we need to wait until January 19th. More we don’t know. And waiting for the covid vaccine.
If you’re a praying person pray. If not spare me a good thought. I guess the first trial is the wait. Thanks!
I remember the first time I saw a heron land on a pond. I watched it fold itself out of flight and land floating, tidied. You couldn’t imagine from it’s folded form, the shadow of it coming into land. Fierce and lovely, Of course I fell in love.
Eerie Street, Chicago
But that was not my first love. When scientists started to declare that birds were dinosaurs, I roared up in agreement. The only thing as fierce as a heron is a dinosaur! And the resemblance is striking. I’m a believer.
Lady Blue
Part of why I celebrate dinosaurs, and herons, and their survivors is that I see myself as a survivor. We all are. Living means that, so far, you’ve survived life. And time gives us a space to unpack that and understand a little the gifts we’ve been given.
Fall Stream
They aren’t always pretty. Survival can be a messy business. But it reminds me that I have strength and swiftness, if not in my body in my mind. I can be lovely even in my fierceness, if I choose to use it well.
Daylily Pond
And if I am a dinosaur of sorts, my survival, my ability to go on is strength in itself. I am grateful.
Where the Heart is
And I’m going to need it. I’m probably having my right knee replaced again, due to an infection. If I can’t walk, I should be able to fly. I’m related to the Pteranodons, thru my mother’s side. I can survive anything.
This blog is taken from a blog from several years back. Somehow, the pictures got removed, so I’m revising it and putting it up where it’s available. Of all the things I do as an art quilter, I’m very proud that I’m not confined by binding. This lets me make any shape quilt I wish, in any color binding I want.
I started out as a traditional quilter. And for years, I bound all my quilts with bias tape. But as my work became more organic, it felt terribly strange to put my work in a square box. None of my work fits in rectangles. It grows organically. It should be allowed to grow off the edge.
The corded buttonhole is a standard technique from couture sewing, translated from there to the quilt world. It gives us a way to finish both quilts and art clothing in a new way that’s literally out of the box. Instead of the square edges and gentle curves that are the limit of bias binding, we have the freedom to follow any shape. That means that the edge of our pieces is not defined by straight lines, but by their internal design. It also means a quilt can have an external shape that fills a wall in a much more exciting way. giving the negative space around the quilt impact. And because our binding is thread, we have the full range of polyester thread colors for our palette.
I prefer to do this on my Bernina because of the specific feet and the stitch quality. You can use a regular utility foot and a couching foot off another kind of machine.
We’ll be using two basic feet for our binding.
What largely counts is the thread escape on the bottom of the buttonhole foot.
The #1 foot has a top groove we can use to couch down the cord. It’s your standard zigzag pressure foot.
The #3 foot has a thread escape groove on the bottom for the zigzag stitching to pass through. The #3 foot is the older style buttonhole foot (without the electronic eye)that has exactly the right thread escape to accommodate the buttonhole binding.
No matter where I put the couching thread, it lands on the floor while I’m stitching. If you have floors like mine, a yarn bowl will help keep your crochet cotton clean. The thread will spool evenly as you’re couching.
You’ll need
#3 Crochet cotton
A quilt/ or quilted object backed, quilted and ready to bind
Polyester #30-40 weight embroidery thread the color of your choice
A#3 foot and a #1 foot, or a regular presser foot and a couching foot
A zigzag sewing machine
A rotary cutter and mat
A yarn bowl
Binding
We’ll bind our piece with a corded binding that’s basically a corded buttonhole all around the edge.
Preparing your quilt:
Stitch around the edge either with monofilament nylon or with a neutral embroidery thread so that all the layers are together
Your piece doesn’t have to be rectangular or square. It can be any shape at all. To keep sharp 45-degree corners or points, you need to clip the tips off them.
Using your rotary cutter, cleanly cut away all the extra bat and backing fabric, exactly the shape you want your quilt to be. You want all the edges to be clean. You will lose around a quarter inch in the binding.
Thread your machine top and bottom with a polyester embroidery thread of your choice. You can use rayon or metallic thread, but the breakage tends to make things so much more difficult. I prefer Madiera Polyneon and Isacord.
Attaching the cord:
Set your machine on a zigzag stitch, with the needle position one position over from full left. Your stitch length should be set at almost the widest width.
Position your quilt so the stitch falls just over the right-hand edge of your quilt. Thread the crochet cotton through the top of the foot.
Start your stitching somewhere in the lower edge, not on a corner or direct curve.
Zigzag your cording all around the edge.
When you come to the end, drop your feed dogs and make several stitches to anchor the cord.
Clip your threads and cord.
Tip: If you have a quilt that is ruffling at the edge just a bit, you can pull the cord and gather in the ruffle. This will not solve severe distortion problems, but it will fix minor ones. You need to pull the cord before you change directions or turn a corner.
Corners, curves and points:
These all take a bit of finesse. Your standard buttonhole stitch isn’t set up to cover them. But you can get good coverage on them by rocking your stitch over them. As you’re stitching, you can pull back just a bit from the front to make sure your stitch line covers everything. Curves may also need that assistance. For corners and particularly for points, stitch up to them and turn the piece at slightly different angles as you go round the edge. You can put the needle down within the point and pivot and stitch several times until you have coverage.
Covering the cord:
Your second pass should cover your cord with smooth zigzag stitching. Flip your piece over and start on a straight section.
You’ll find certain areas may not have been included in the stitching. This will give you a chance to address that.
Set your sewing machine for the widest stitch it will give, and the densest stitch length it can handle. Put your needle position to the far left.
Use your #3 foot, with the double channel thread escape.
Position your quilt so that the stitch to the right ends over the edge of your quilt
Start at a lower edge, not on a corner or a curve.
Stitch around the edge of your quilt.
When you come to the beginning, move your needle position to the far left, set it onto a straight stitch, and stitch in place to anchor the stitching.
Sometimes I get enough coverage on the second pass, but that’s rare. Usually, it takes a third time around. Turn the piece over. If you still have wisps sticking up through the binding, trim them as best you can, and go around another time. I’ve been known to do four passes to get a smooth, solid cord. Turn your piece over each time to get better coverage.
Your color choice defines the edge of the quilt. If you match the center of your quilt, it will have no visual border. The piece appears to drift off the edge. If you contrast it strongly, it stops right at the edge. If you pick a color that softly blends in with the piece, the edge is visual, but softer, blending the edges into the wall. There is no right or wrong. Just the result you want for that piece.
Tips:
A clean-cut edge to your piece is always easier to cover with stitching. Use your rotary cutter and make a nice, solid cut line. Trim curves with sharp scissors.
Use a new topstitching #90 needle for the best stitch and for less thread breakage.
Apply Sewers Aid to the thread to help with thread breakage.
Organic quilts don’t have to be stuck in a box. A corded buttonhole binding lets your quilt go over the edge.
One of the not-so-secret elements of my work has been hand dyed fabric. I’ve dyed fabric literally since I was ten. I was working with melted crayons and Rit. The result almost made my father cry when he saw the midden in the sink, but I’ve been hooked ever since.
Why? Because nothing starts better original art than original art.
With the new studio in place, I’m ready to dye. Well, almost. We still need to freshen up the wringer washer and test the new mangle. But I have a dedicated kitchen space with a drain in the floor. What more could a girl want?
I put up Three Point Landing because it’s so dependent on the fabric. It’s a one piece background with around 15 colors in it. The colors make it all glow, sky, water and waterlily. The background, just one piece of fabric, makes it all happen.
When I dye fabric for a particular piece, I usually dye three pieces for the one I’ll use. One can be backing and one can be accessory, perhaps. But all three of them will be different in lovely amazing ways. And if I’m lucky, one will be just right.
Are there commercial fabrics like this? Somewhat. Caryl Bryer Fallert does a line of fabrics that simulated hand-dye quite well. But it’s reproduced. Which means it’s not a one of a kind.
I always have some really beautiful fabric that I don’t need to keep. I sold it in classes to students, because it’s cruel to tell them they can have results like yours without giving them similar supplies.
But there are always people who come back for hand dye. It’s beautiful, The colors are vivid. it’s needle ready, starched and shrunk, and no one has a piece just like yours. Each one is unique.
My first dye run will be naturally smaller than usual. But I am taking orders for people who would like fabric. Fabric is roughly 44″ wide, mercerized cotton. It comes in yard, half yard, and yard and a half lengths. I can either send an assorted box of fabric, or hand pick for you from what you tell me you want.
The fabric has a light source in it, usually. Built in sun or moon light spots that drive the visual action of your work from the start.
Even blacks, greys and browns are vivid and exciting.
But if you ask me, I will dye what you want to your specs.
Fabric is $24 per yard. I ask that you buy at least $48 dollars worth of fabric. I do pack each box with an extra yard or two so you can pick and choose. You can send back what you don’t want. If you buy the whole box you get an extra half yard free.
I will have some extra fabric from the run, but I recommend that if you want fabric, email me or call me at 219-617-2021 and I will dye especially for your needs.
I expect to by dyeing around April 24th. Who wants fabric?
It’s been a while since I’ve blogged anything. There are times when you live your art. There are times when your art is an effort to live your life. I think most artists swing between those two points. With all the changes coming down, I’m hung somewhere between packing and planning. The art there is the art of putting it all into a box.
For those who’ve missed the punchline. I’m getting married, November 21st, to Don Bowers, a dear friend from college who somehow, miraculously has become my love. And I’m moving to Galesburg, IL.
At that point, I need to pack up and move my home and studio and plan a wedding. At 62.
I’d given up. I’d given up so often I could have written a book on giving up. Surprise.
Will I still teach? Yes if I’m asked. So ask. Will I still do my art? How do any of us stop doing are art? Art is not a process. It’s a by-product of an artist’s life. As we live we express ourselves in many ways. Art is just part of the expression.
What is today’s task? Emptying the dead and quite scary freezer to make room for the new one. There’s art for you. Bring out your dead. Find what’s still living. Hand the rest to Mo.
Tangentially, we’re having a mouse problem. The mice are a problem. Mo, the munificent and very messed up 14 year old cat is doing his best to show me that he is a magnificent mouser. I just wish he would stop putting them in the kitchen and in my bed. I always wanted breakfast in bed, but please. Not while it’s still warm.
I’ve had the privilege of sharing so much of my life with you all. It seems strange not to. So I’ll be writing a bit about this as I move, make room for the changes, start to merge with someone in a strange space. We are all artists, by genome, by birthright. And sometimes our lives are simply the art of trying to make sense of our lives.
If you’d like more information about the wedding, please check our web site on The Knot. If we had a failure of mail or brain pressure and you need to be with us on that day, let us know and we’ll put out more fudge for you. (Yes. I made ten batches). And if you have a moment, say a prayer for us. It’s a lot of changes.
