Between the cooking of birds and a small blizzard, we’ve had a pause in the world.. Don spent yesterday napping, I believe. I don’t know because I binged watched most of the extended Hobbit with Tolkein, my cat, and started a new sweater. Not what we normally do.
This was not a year for travel. Time and space have not cooperated. But it doesn’t mean that I felt people were distant. How did I manage to make friendships that have lasted 30 years, 40 years? How did that happen?
When we all could travel easier, many of us made friendsgiving, the day after thanksgiving. Now our bodies just aren’t cooperating. But strangely I felt everyone there. Don and I are only kids. We’re both, thankfully considering our parents, orphens. But we have family, rich and strong and very much loved. Thank you all.
Speaking of parents, my father fished as a religion. It was where he found peace, rest, calm and joy. I’ve never wanted to catch a fish in my life, but he took me in his small row boat, and immersed me in that world. Part of me has never left. When I stitch fish, I’m revisiting it. I offer it to you.
I spent the week batching luna moths for my cranes. I’m not sure whether they sit on the coast or not, but they’d be in the adjascent swamp land.
I love batch embroidery. It’s coloring in the zone. I use it for most of the small to medium elements in my quilts. So much can be done with small fish, flowers, frogs, birds, lizards, and anything else you can think of. I always make too many. It’s sort of like too much bacon. How could that happen? And of course, I can always think of a use for another fish or strip of bacon. Many pieces need a left over elements, just to round it out.
Batching elements helps me build a body of things to incorporate into a quilt to make it more love, to make it move, to make it flow.
It may be too much. This is the first pin up. They always shift by the time I get the water in and make adjustments. I think it needs rocks to ground it.
I’ve been working on this piece for a while. And then I’ve needed to let it sit.
Partially, I was waiting for weed stencils I could turn into rubbing plates. They came from Temu. and took forever. But I’m pleased with them. I want more, higher up on the right side.
Now we come to the tricky part. We have a blank space on the left hand side. You don’t have fish or frogs in surf. Maybe butterflies by the shore. I think rocks would be understated and wrong. What will I use to fill in?
Usually I know my options pretty well. I work a lot with grasslands and swamps, rivers, and ponds. Ocean shores, not so much. I’m not sure what is on the beach except for horseflies. Somehow, that’s not what I wanted.
Google didn’t help either. I looked up coastal insects and got lots of information about pest control. I was hoping for pretty pest control subjects. They did mention some pretty moths.
This is a moment I’m glad I’m a bibiloholic. I have in a series of books, Florida’s Fabulous insects. I have a terrible urge to use a lunar moth I already embroidered. IT worked pretty well. Moving moths could set the path for the eye through the quilt. When I looked it up, luna moths are down there.
So I drew out a series of luna moths. It’s more than this piece needs, but there is no such thing as a luna moth I won’t eventually use.
Design is a process. Solve one part of the puzzle, move to another part. Waiting is also part of the process. I find pieces grow into themselves rather than follow a design I had in mind.
Most quilters think in terms of one surface. You make a top. You quilt a top. It works for the traditional quilt.
It’s never worked for me. If you’re creating a natural world, one layer seems, well, flat. Layers change tones across a piece, build texture, create shading, and add elements that are present but not solid. They can be made from fabric layers, thread layers, and sheer layers.
I also have a layer of image embroidery which is a separate thing.
Hand dye is always my starting layer. Even now when it’s become a pain in the ass to dye, I still don’t want anyone’s fabric for my art but my own. It’s unique one piece to another and if you let it, it will tell you what to do. Who doesn’t need a leg up?
This last month I’ve added another possibility. I can have an oil paint stick rubbing layer that adds substance as well as texture.
Because I can make the rubbing plates I need. I’ve used rubbings for all kinds of things, but mostly, the commercia; plates are best for texture. Oil paint stick rubbing is not exactly transparent, but it does show the background through.
On this piece I wanted trees, water, and reflected trees. I wanted the actual trees to be more present, so I stitched them straight stitch with brown, black and blue.
The reflected trees and the water texture I simply let be. It feels, mirkier, wetter and more like water surface.
I have a beginning layer of sheer shapes for water under my fish.
After I’ve stitched down my fish, the second layer of sheers places them in the water.
A stippled thread layer of Madeiera Metallic colorizes the air portion and makes it shimmer.
A stipple layer of Sliver thread makes the water splash and shine.
Finally a layer of leaves defines the surface of the water.
My goal was to create three worlds, the pond, the surface and the air. I think I’ve got it.
Layers add texture, density and complexity to what I do.
What are elementals? They’re not the subject or the background. They are layers of sheers usually that create the ilusion of air, water, clouds, fire. Things that are usually translucent or transparent. They change color and texture within the piece without being obtrusive. Usually they have no hard edges. Instead, we see through them, but they help create the illusion of those elements by shifting the colors.
I put in my elementals directly after I’ve chosen my background and finished embroidering my subject.
Up until now, I’ve made my elementals out of sheers, lace, hand painted lace, and dyed cheesecloth. I love those. But I always want more options.
Since I’ve been able to make my own rubbing plates, I’ve had options to create that layered effect. Most rubbing plates create texture or give you a subject. The ones I made with stencils are created to make trees, clouds, waves and waters. Why does rubbed fabric work for that? It has soft edges, It blends into colors, and you can layer your rubbings just like layers of sheers..
beginning backgroundembroidered fish
I’m very pleased with the background and the fish. But I wanted the feeling of reflected trees and pond surface.
Fish placed in background rubbed with tree images and water reflectons. Rocks added.
The water and the reflected trees add a hazy elemental layer. What now? I’m unsure. I think it needs a layer of sheer waters as well.
Layers suit water. If you’ve ever walked into a pond, you can feel the layers of water, warmer or colder. It makes sense in fabric as well. I’m hoping to create three worlds, the bottom of the pond, the surface of the water, and the bare trees above the surface. Time to get out the silk leaves and organza.
This is an ongoing series about making rubbing plates, part two.You’ll find part 1, Hunting for Rubbing Plates in last week’s blog. I’ve been exploring making my own rubbing plates with modeling paste and stencils.
Modeling paste costs the earth. And it comes in pretty tiny jars. Not to fear. It turns out to be easy to make with dirt cheap supplies.
I’ve seen several recipes, but none of them seem fussy. People just pour in ingredients and mix them until it’s the right consistency for their work. The peppermint comment is a rememberance to school paste and a joke. PLEASE DON”T EAT THIS STUFF.
Basic Recipe
Corn Starch
Colored Acrylic Paint
White School Glue
Container with Lid
Spritz bottle with water
Roughly equal parts glue and corn starch. Add a dash of acryllic paste, mix, sprits with water if it’s too thick.
Something no one seems to say is that the cornstarch seems to thicken quickly. It may help to spritz it several times in a session. Covered it will last for 3-4 days.
Colored acrylic paint is a nicety I discovered by accident. I didn’t have white. You can see how your stencil is working if you are working with colored paste. Much recommended.
I’m using foam board as a background. It’s a compromise. Wood is just too heavy and cardboard is to light. I’m using washer weights to hold down the larger pieces from curving as the dry. I cut the foam board into stencil sizes with a boxcutter and a plastic ruler. Foam board can come apart at the edges. I’m using blue masking tape around the edges to hold it together.
Picking Stencils
There is a staggering amount of stencils available. Once you banish the cute puppies and cats, there is an endless amount of choice.
Look for stencils that:
Don’t have large empty spaces within the design
Have a moderate amount of internal design
The right size for the designs you intend. This won’t stretch or shrink in any way.
Are made of tough plastic you can reuse
Don’t have really tiny lines in them
Making the Rubbing Plate
Set your stencil where you want it. Use a pallet knife to apply the past. A flat scraper or dead credit card is a good tool for smoothing things. Cover your design thouroughly and scrape off all the extra. Lift the stencil off carefully.
I have a bucket of water I put the used stencils in. That makes clean up easier.
You’ll find the design is lightly raised from the surface.
I usually smooth the edges a bit with some sylicon brushes and water.
Let it dry thoroughly.
That’s it. After it dries, you can take a nail file and smooth any rough edges.
Next week I’ll explore what I can do with these plates and some fabric.
I spent last week working on three cranes. I was fairly pleased with myself, when someone asked, “Are these cranes having sex?
I hadn’t seen it. I still kind of don’t. I looked up a picture of cranes in love, and it didn’t quite look that quiet. But I have my head in my hands trying to figure out what I do next.
I was inspired by a Japanese textile design in a Dover Pictorial Archive book. I’m pretty sure they didn’t see it as cranes in love. It was my own rendering of it, changed in the way we change everything we draw ourselves.
Usually I let people tell me anything about my art. If it comes from them, it’s theirs. I don’t mess with that. I meant what I meant. I’m not responsible for their response.
But this hits me in a place that makes me feel very vulnerable. Sex is about bodies and bodies are about vulnerability. Art is about visual vulnerability. I’m not really secure about body image. I work in animal imagery since I can’t bear to work in human flesh. I have a delicate detent with my body, somewhat riddled by the failures of old age and memories of high school.
It’s a response to really old tapes. I wasn’t just fat. I was born deformed. Admittedly, it was a small genetic oops. But my mother could build a tragedy out a broken nail.
IF you are harmed enough, people can frame you as being inhuman. If you are harmed deeply enough, you may even think that’s true. If other people think it’s true, they can do anything to you because you aren’t a human being. That was my whole childhood. It seems to be going around globally right now.
I’m not taking this anywhere except in my own life. And I don’t want anyone to explain situations where it is somehow ok. Or tell me to get over it. I don’t believe we get to dehumanize people.
The bottom line is that I’m terrified of naked vulnerability. My animals are me in some way. I’ve come to see my self through Don’s eyes and his vision is kinder than my memories. I usually let that stand. I’m not sure I can be a crane in love on a quilt.
I took the time to reoutline the birds. It usually makes things clearer. Maybe this time that’s not such a good idea.
So what do I do with a quilt with cranes possibly delecto inflagrante? Do I finish it? Put a bunch of cat tails around them? Do I stuff it in a drawer until I feel more brave? I tend to not just throw work out, even if I don’t like it. I could put a lower price on it, and it either sells or it doesn’t. That assumes I can bear to finish it. There’s a dark corner in the closet, perfect for storage.
So what do you think? Would you finish it? Show it? Put a fig leaf on it? What?
I’ve been prepping for a show proposal for weeks now. While I was working through my machine woes, I couldn’t back and bind the larger quilts. Now that I have a functional 930, I could accomplish that.
Two years ago, I started this heron piece. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s a heron drawing I found in my files. It was lovely. So I embroidered it and fit it into a quilt.
But it’s large. The word large is inadequate. It’s roughly 59″ x 59″ It’s larger than I’m tall.
Embroidering it wasn’t’ the problem. But after you add a back and a layer of felt, you have a lump. A very large lump.
So it sat the corner. And I became afraid of it. I made a myth of it. It was too large. It wouldn’t fit through the machine. My arms aren’t as strong as they used to be.
I had a friend ask if I could make it work if I cut it up in some way. That shook me loose. It wasn’t a bad quilt, or even a failed quilt. It was just too big. And I was being a coward.
After that I went hunting my big girl panties.
All of those things are true. It’s too large, it did not fit prettily into the machine. I had to jam it under the machine head. And my arms may be less strong, but my will..? Never doubt my will. No one can tell me no but me.
There’s no can’t like won’t, Sometimes we build myths about our work. “It’s so good.” “It’s no good.” “It will never lie flat” Almost all of that is irrelevant. I won’t know i it’s good for some while after I finish it. I need to stop the negativity and just step into the task. It was backed, quilted and bound in 3 days.
Here’s the details on Great Blue
Here are the other quilts I’ve set up for my proposal. I think the heron’s really necessary. Big girl panties and all. Wish me luck.
Willow MarchEgretBlue FishOctopi ReelBsvkyard ConversationWaterfallBlue PondSnake in the GrassIn the ShellBig FishWaterfall
Do you remember in the Wizard of Oz when they fixed the tin man with an oilcan?
Let’s just start this out by saying I am not a mechanic. By training or inclination. I have 60 years of working with sewing machines by way of experience. I am in no way recommending this proceedure. I’m telling you it worked for me.
You know I’ve been wrestling with my machines. It all came to a head last week when the working 930 Bernina froze solid, mid stitch. This is the fourth machine that has done that.
Don looked at me and said, “Have you oiled it?” Of course I oiled it. All the places in the book.
Fixing is Don’s job. Oiling is mine. Besides, I was restless and distraught and desperate. I got out the new shop light and oiled everything that moved metal against metal. There were a lot of places I would have never found without the light. It felt fruitless. Don said, “Let it sit.” That felt awful, but there wasn’t anything else to do.
The next day, the wheel budged just a bit. I pushed at it. It rotated a bit in a jerky way. Don said, “Let it sit.” I oiled it again like watering the garden.
The next day it didn’t move at all. Or the day after that, Or the day after that. I kept oiling.
Today was the day I pushed the wheel and it moved. All the way around. I got out the light and saw a hunk of thread I’d missed. I pulled it out bit by bit with a hemostate. I oiled again He put it back together and it ran. I kissed both him and the machine.
It sounds simple, but it’s not. The manual on your machine suggests several oiling parts. The idea is that your mechanic will get the other spots during a tune up. That assumes your machine is under ten years old. And being serviced regularly. And that your mechanic knows the older machines. As machines age, they get dry. In places that are hard to reach and not documented.
So the oil can be the cure. Except when it’s not.
Know your machine
What is your machine made of? Outsides don’t count. Insides do. Oil will abrade plastic, and possibly nylon. So you NEVER oil something that’s plastic on metal or plastic on plastic. Only oil metal on metal. Tap on it with your screwdriver if you aren’t sure. You’ll hear the difference.
I was shocked with what I could see with a magnifying shop light. I have several, but this is clearly the best of them. I found places on my machine I’d never heard about, and I do have a mechanics manual.
You also don’t want to open anything that will void the waranty. My machines are 20-40 years old, so that doesn’t matter. Newer machines are also much more complex. You may want to talk to your dealer.
If you’re cleared, take off the panels you can. We’re looking for the secret spots. They hide in the dark.
This is an answer for a machine that is stuck. If your machine is really truly broken instead of stuck, it will tell you. Listen. Pops, bangs, screams, grinds, smoke, the smell of burned plastic, or sounds like it’s chewing, are all indications that something broke. Stop immediately. This will not self heal. Oil it, but don’t expect that to fix the problem.
When and where do you oil?
If your machine is working well enough to move the wheel by hand, you can see all the places where it moves. Oil moving parts that are metal on metal. You will find more places if you can turn the wheel to see where they are.
If it’s not moving at all, oil what you can see. Check that what you’re oiling is metal on metal.
Don’t be upset if you don’t get an immediate response. Oil seeps in. If it won’t move at once, give it some time to penetrate.
What kind of oil? Buy your oil at the dealership. Oil is not all the same. Some kinds actually have shellac in them. If like me, you have many machines, you can buy in bulk. Bernina Jeff. of High Fashion Sewing, in Junction, CO, was kind enough to show us the oil he uses: Velocite # 10 spindle oil. I trust Bernina Jeff. His videos are accessible. He is knowledgeable and kindly. I purchased a number of small bottles and a pint of oil.
Can you oil too much? Of course you can. If you’ve got a puddle, there you are. Wipe it up and call it done. I like to use flannel to clean up oil.
Do check out Bernina Jeff. He has great machining toys for sale, knows his stuff and is a good and gentle teacher.
I do hope you never need this. But I intend to oil every machine I’ve got down to the nubs.
I have to say that this week has left me exhausted. My new to me 930 froze mid stitch, and I am, again. scrambling. Currently working are the 220 and the 20 U Singer.
If it sounds like a first world problem, you’re probably right. But I sew every day, usually around 3-4 hours a day. It’s more than a job. It’s not quite an adventure. It’s certainly my mental health.
When I was teaching, occasionally I’d get a student who would ask me how to do something. Usually it was an amazing idea. But I’d never tried it. I was sorry to tell them I didn’t know exactly how to do that, but that they eventually would. Art is not all about inspiration, and public statements. It’s often fed by the ability to hunt the snark, find a way to make things as you wish. It’s damn hard work.
But if it’s important enough, you find a way. And many artists have the decency to make their journey available to others, so that our art grows, not just in volume or in content but in ability. It’s why we write. It’s why we teach.
If I said that to you in class at one point, I apologize profusely. Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it’s what you wanted to hear. And I thank you for not having hit me.
The art quilt movement rebuilt quilting. Part of it hunted down old skills: hand stitching, hand quilting, pattern pieces, paper piecing and the like. Part of it is new tech: rotary cutters, machine work, computer design, different materials and stabilizers, different threads.
This is not the glamourous part of art. It’s grueling. Try one thing, try another. Look for an answer. Take the best compromise you’ve got.
Edging with three hoops on the 20U
I’m currently working on a koi fish quilt, working title, Upstream. It includes a kick ass koi and waterfalls over cliffs. I’m proud to say I figured out how to do the detail stitching on the 20 U. It involved 3 metal stackable hoops. I’m waiting with some anticipation for my Maggie Frame to arrive. It may really change the whole hooping process
The hoops are important because I can’t get a foot to work on the 20 U. The one foot that works won’t deal with the thickness of the quilt sandwich. Other feet I tried didn’t work with the machine or allow for a zigzag stitch.
For those not familiar with how sewing machines work, your machine will not form stitches if your fabric isn’t held taunt. Your pressure foot usually provides that stability. Without it, something else has to hold your fabric tight. Hense, the hoop. This video does a nice job of explaining how a stitch forms.
So I have to figure out the hoop thing.
On another front, my new crashed Bernina 930 is in pieces soaking in machine oil. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.
Stitched down with water elementals
I’m struggling with finding ways to utilize the Singer 20U. I added in my cliffs, direct applique with the 20U, using that stack of hoops. It’s a less elegant stitch line, but it worked.
Next steps: stipple in, add water splashes, back, quilt and bind.
