quilting

Marching On: Struggling Along to New Tech

| ellenanneeddy
Detail of fish in water elements

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.

A Big Hooping Deal

| ellenanneeddy
20 U Singer Industrial

Those of you who follow me know I’ve been working on getting the 20 U Singer industrial to work for zigzag embroideries. I’ve been positive about it, although that’s been more of an affirmation than a reality. We’re still not there yet.

I spoke with a mechanic last week who said, “You can’t get that machine to do that.” He’s speaking out of his experience, but I’m feathered if I let a little thing like someone’s experience stop me. Besides, I did used to work large embroideries on this machine. It went too fast, it broke thread and needles right and left, but I could use it with a screw tight embroidery hoop.

We’ve solved the broken thread fast issue with a servo motor. That’s working quite well.

But did I mention I hate hooping? Stitch three inches, move the hoop. Stitch another three inches. It’s painfully slow. This is the front and back of my test piece. The moth is straight stitch. The squiggle is zigzag. A hoop will work, without a foot.

Maggie Frame

Which is why I’m ecstatic about the hoop I purchased today. Maggie Frame is a magnetic hoop set for embroidery machines. But I don’t see any reason why I can’t use it free motion. The hoop snaps and is held in place with magnets. This video gives you an idea how it works.

Here is a comparison between the Maggie Frame and Mighty Hoop.

The sandwich I’m using to embroider is a layer of hand dye, felt, stitch and tear and totally stable. Stuffing that into a screw down hoop is hopeless. This video showed them hooping four layers of terry towels. I can’t wait!

I’ve ordered a 10″ x12″ hoop. As always, I’ll share my journey with you as I try this new tech out.

Water Ripples: Adding an Extra Splash

| ellenanneeddy

I love organza and lace for natural elements. I can make water easily with some fusible and sheers. I cut c shapes in various sizes and colors, and fit them into pond or river water.

This is a process I usually do right before I put on my embroidered components. I get everything embroidered, so I’m sure it fits in, and then add the elements (air, wind, water, clouds, smoke) to the background itself before I stitch down any of the embroideries. Only after tthe sheers are stitched on, do I stitch the components down.

There is one problem with that. It leaves my fish and reeds all out of the water. They are in front of the water, but not in it.’

What I’m looking for is the feeling of layers. I usually cut c shapes and swirls. Then I mix them together until I have water amalgamated with different temperatures and depths.

If you think about real water, it’s always in layers. You put your toes in, and maybe you feel the sun warmed top layer, Go further in, and the lower levels feel colder. How do we express that as art? I think the deeper the colors are, the colder they feel. We can make layered water, warm on the top, but colder as we go further in.

So the last thing I often do is to lay a few pieces of organza and lace over top of the fish. Not completely. but enough that they’re completely clearly in the water.

Anything less would be all wet.

Work Flow: What Do I Do First?

| ellenanneeddy

My work contains a lot of different processes. It can seem a bit overwhelming when you’re looking at the inished piece. But there is a flow to it.How do I start? What makes sense out of what comes first? And next. And why?

I’m using the cat head fountain as my example here because it’s what I’m currently working on. This is a repeat of a quilt that never worked out.( see Try, Try, Again). Every piece has its own challenges and processes, some of which are unique to that piece. This one isn’t reallly typical. I’ve been trying to fix my problem with man made structures for some while. The fountain itself was a separate process I’ll skip over for right now.

I’d like to say none of this is written in stone. This is generally how I approach a piece of art.

Which comes first, the background or the subject?

It can go either way. It’s a chicken and egg problem. I need both. It doesn’t matter which comes first.

Background

The background answers many question. Sometimes there’s a piece of hand dye has really strong opinions and tells you exactly what to put on your quilt. It’s worth listening. So I put the background up on the wall and let it tell me the story. Is it a swamp? A meadow? A river? The background often tells me exactly where I am. What time it is? This background was a piece of oil paint stick rubbing on gray hand dyed that made perfect old stone.

Sometimes there’s a piece that’s perfect but it’s just too small. I may strip piece it to stretch it. I did piece a border to this, to get it to the right side.

Subject

The background does all of that xcept when it doesn’t. Then I go looking for images. I do use books for reference. I’m a poor enough artist that once I’ve drawn it, it’s pretty much unrecognizable. But I do like to get the numbers correct on how many toes my creature should have.

I draw on Totally Stable, an inron on, removable stabilizer. The stabilizer stays witin the piece. It’s drawn backwards because I’m stitching from the back.

Either road, I never prep the back until I’ve embroidered the subject. The embroideries shrink. And not in an even way. The shrinkage comes from the width of the zigzag stitch you’re using. Usually it’s around 11 percent, it’s not consistant, or predicable.

Stabilize the Background

Once the subject is embroidered, I stablize the back with felt and Decor Bond.

Elementals

Elementals are things that are see through fire, water, air,clouds, flower petals. If it’s a flat applique, I back it wit Steam a Seam 2, iron it down, and stitch it in a loose zigzag with monofilament clear thread.

First Pin Up

Once I have the elements in place, I pin up my subject into the background and assess what I need to make a pathway

Components

These can be any smaller images that direct the eye through the piece: bugs, fish, birds, or stones. In this case it’s leaves, roses and small yellow birds

Second Pin Up

I add in the components to create a visual path. This it that last moment to adjust for everything The smallest angle of a leaf or bird can change it dramatically.(see Turn of the Head) After it’s stitched down, I’m committed. This is where I currently am with this quilt. The next part is to leave it on the wall for several days to be sure everything is where it should be.

Stitch Down

At this point I stitch the elements into the background

Stipple

Most pieces do not lie flat unless they’re stitched all over. Some kind of stipple will accomplish that.

Back, Quilt, and Bind

Finally I back the piece, quilt it, and cord bind it. Check out Way over the Edge for instructions on cord binding.

This is not always the path. But these are all things that need to be accomplished.

I regularly walk you through my projects step by step. But I don’t often show it in a more macro form. For more information on work flow check Deciding Rather than Designing.

When the Wringer Won’t Wring

| ellenanneeddy

I’m feeling old.

Along with a number of other studio failures, my wringer washer is not wringing. There are several answers for this. Most of them demand manual strength. I suspect we’ll call the mechanics at Dillan’s before that’s over. The wringer washer is really old. But then again, so am I.

But for right now, I need to dye fabric. Which means I need to soak fabric. Which means I need to wring out fabric. Which means a lot of wringing of hands.

I have in the past, asked for help. I think it’s geographically more difficult right now. If anyone would like to help me dye fabric, I will send you home with a pile of lovely hand dye as a thank you. But everyone I know to ask is too far away to ask.

Time to get creative. What else holds wet fabric and wrings it out?

Modern washing machines. It’s an idea. It is, constitutionally, wasteful. Washing soda lasts forever if it isn’t contaminated. I can hold water in the washer. I can get it to wring it out. But the soak water will only be good for one shot. It’s discarded in the rinse process.

And it’s a large shot. I looked up the capacity of washing machines. It suggests that an older top loading machine that the capacity is between 15-20 gallons for a small rinse load. I’m not sure if that includes just the rinse water or the wash water as well.

The formula for washing soda soak is 1 cup of washing soda per gallon of water. 15 cups of washing soda per load is a lot. Then again, what would it cost in chiropractic dollars? Chiropractic dollars measures how many trips to the chiropractor you’ll need after accomplishing your task the hard way. If it costs less than the chiropractor, it’s a bargain.

So I did it. I have 25 yards of fabric ready to wash out today. We’ll know if it got enough washing soda for the fabric to connect with the dye.

Short answer, it worked sort of. It’s massively wasteful of washing soda, It also leaves fabric dryer than I like. But I didn’t have to wring out anything. It still wore me down to a dirty rag at the end of the day. I also didn’t get the most intense color I rely on. I will not be doing this again.

The washer isn’t the only one who’s getting older.

I also just found out they don’t make StaFlow starch any more. Stay flow has been my secret weapon against wimpy fabric. Rather than mix it and spray it, I put it in the last rinse in the softener cup of the washer with a dolop of milsoft fabric softener.

Starch gets a bad rap. We usually wash out our fabric from the store, partially to remove the startch but mostly to get any bleeding and shrinking out of the way. And it removes other bad chemicsls, But starch give your fabric body, and the softener gives it a beautiful hand.

I sent Don into Walmart for Sta Flow. There is no more Stay Flow being made.. There are left over bottles available for $28 dollars a bottle on Amazon. I refuse to mix my own cornstarch. So we’re trying a new liquid starch called Linit Starch. I hate having to try new products. It leads to uncertain outcomes, where you once knew what the results would be. It’s another learning experience. I’ll keep you posted.

Things change, products change, methods change. We change too. Sometimes it’s even better. At least I’m telling myself that. And I have fabric again. If it takes longer, that’s just how we need to roll.

Walking a Visual Path: How Does The Design Invite Us Into Our Art

| ellenanneeddy

I’ve been a long time follower of the visual path. Our eye travels through a piece of art and makes its own journey. We can build that visual path with our objects and their placement.

A good visual path

  • should welcome you into that world,
  • should give you a good tour, covering the surface of the piece.
  • should graciously show you the way out.
  • should breathe.

But part of that pathway is perception. How does the structure of the design direct us to travel on that path? Where do we start?

There are some other good questions as well. What makes an entry point? How do we travel? Are we released from the piece at some point? Or does it try to make us stay focused within the piece?

I’ve begun to think about how we enter a piece when we see it. Where does the eye start? Does it make a difference? Being a good dyslexic, I always thought it didn’t, but I’m thinking I was wrong.

As Westerners, we read left to right. So do we enter a project visually from the left and travel over to the right hand side? And what does that do within the language of the piece? What does that positioning tell us?

Handedness is pretty hardwired, but some of it is cultural. We can see an image either from either left or right like flipping a slide. But how do we normally process that?

What matters is what we see first. Where does it direct us to look?

If it faces directly in front of us, that sort of stops the motion right there. We are where we are.

If the subject is facing us, headed left, we see it as the main object.

If the piece is standing facing from left to right, we see it as a main object, but we also see what it is focused on.

The entry point is either a spot that focus us for being open, or for grabbing our attention.

For our purposes, the red arrow is the entry point and the yellow arrows point out the path.

1163-25 There and Back Again

The entry point here is the from the view of our subjects. Everything carries them along in their quest. The movement is all left to right.

1124-25 Birds Eye View

The bird is our entry point. We see what she sees. She’s focused on a pond beneath here.The rocks circle the pond, defining it, but also drawing our eye around it.

1149-24 Leaping Lizards

Our entry point leads us straight to the mocking bird facing left. . Her glance takes us around the piece following the lizards.

This is just a theory so far. I’m curious what you think about it. How does the facing of the subject change the story of the piece. What is the structural language? What are we saying?

So this is drawn with the eyes facing left. When it’s embroidered, it will be flipped horizontally and it will face to the right. We’ll be in a position to see the world as the fish does.

I’m not sure about this yet. It’s a theory. I’m curious to see what you think as well.

For more information about visual paths, check out It’s the Little Things Building a Visual Path

Do You Need an Industrial Sewing Machine?

| ellenanneeddy

This has been a burning question for me over the last 6 months. I live and die by my sewing machines. It’s what I do. I sew every day around 4-5 hours a day.

Over that time, I;ve locked up 2 220s, 2 930s and a 770, all Berninas known to be tough and durable. I’ve felt like a general who’s horse has died, getting on another horse and inadvertently shooting the new one. It’s been ghastly.

What it’s about is the intense embroideries. They feel like the heart of my work. They’re intense, detailed, textured, and, pardon my vanity, show stopping.

I can’t seem to make them without breaking machines.

I went through this a long time ago. I burned the brushes off my 930 and bought an industrial 20U Singer. It was not a perfect answer. It was way too fast. It chomped through thread. It was incredibly noisy. And impossible to control.

Eventually, I stopped making those larger embroideries.

Lately I’ve needed to work those large embroideries. And we rescued the 20 U from where I left it at Porter.

It was the right decision. Don put a servo motor on it to slow it down. It did a very nice job with my #40 polyester threads.

What is a servo motor?

I’m not sure of the mechanics of the thing. Functionaly it’s an industrial motor with a rhiostat. You can adjust the speed to your taste. It’s infinately more quiet, and takes up a lot less energy.

I wouldn’t say it was the right thing for everyone.

What can an industrial machine offer you?

It is

  • An incredibly tough machine
  • An incredibly fast machine
  • An extra wide zigzag stitch

Those are very different skillls from a home machine.

There is a down side.

  • They are huge. They take up a large footprint in studio space.
  • They are harder to manuver. I’m still finding my way about managing stitch angle with it.
  • Unless you slow them down, they’re too fast for many threads and applications. The servo motor is the best way to control that.
  • You can’t pick it up and take it to a mechanic. You’ll need to fix it yourself or find a mechanic who does house calls.
  • They’re kind of crude. They’re rough machines mechanically. Simple to work with but they’re not sophisticated.

Don made this work for me by installing a servo motor. That motor is a miracle. So is Don. I’m grateful for both.

Am I sorry to be working with an older machine? No. They don’t change that much. As far as the changes in machines over the last 50 years, the most important one was being able to set needle up, needle down. With the servo motor, it’s in excellent fighting shape. These machines are indestructable.

Am I thrilled? Yes. Downside and all, I can tackle those big pieces without making a collection of broken sewing machines. Will I use if for everything? Probably not. Again, hard to control.

Want to come play with my new machine? Give me a call and come over. It’s like running a tyranasarus that sews.

There’s No Antidepressant Like Color. Except for a New Machine

| ellenanneeddy

For those of you who have been following along, you know we had a machine crisis for most of last year. It turns out that what I’m doing is really hard on machines. I’m finding my modern machines are just not up to the challenge.

Enter Ebay and Don!

Don found me a newly restored 930 Bernina, It’s a love. It’s still not a strong enough machine for the denser embroideries, but that’s ok. We have a servo motor for the old industrial Singer 20u. Don says he will be ready to start the switch on the motors perhaps next week.

1169-25 In the Shell

So in celebration for the new baby, and because I finally had the right tool, I got In the Shell finally bound.

Do you remember the feeling when you got a new box of 64 crayons? That’s a large enough number that they had some with silly names like Mac and Cheese. Open up the box. Choose your color. Instant antidepressant!

This quilt had the same effect. It got me through machine withdrawal, over the last months.

Madiera has a line of polyester embroidery thread called Neon. It isn’t all neon color. There are restrained greys and browns. But there are some kick ass oranges, yellows, greens, pinks, and reds, You get the idea.

This quilt was a mood lifter. Partially because I love the idea of a baby octopus in a shell, and partially because the colors could knock socks off.

Between the machine and those colors, I’m feeling so much better now.

Never be afraid to use the brightest, boldest colors. They’re not only lovely. They’re good fiber for your diet. And they fight depression. Eat the rainbow!

She Sells Sea Shells: A Study in Contrast

| ellenanneeddy

I haven’t made a lot of shells before. Starfish, yes. Jellyfish, inevitable. I find shells daunting. They’re not easy to draw, and they can’t be made to look like they’re moving. So this was an experiment.

Designg for contrast

One way to look at design is how to separate the field from the ground. You need to create differences that help the eye sort out what it’s looking at. The shells should be immediately different from the octopus and the sea.

This quilt required a shell for the octopus, And a tangible difference between them to be visually clear. The way to make things pop is to create a visual difference between differnt design elements of color, texture and size.

The color palate makes a clear separationg. The octopus is strongly orange, contrasted by the complemetary blue sea, and the off white and browns of the shells.

But we can make that contrast even stronger through the texture. Texture is made by stitching patterns, thread content, and thread size. Those design decisions clarify the design.

Shells are deeply textured with a smooth inside. I didn’t show the shiny insides of these shells. So the outsides needed to be crunchy and rough.

So the octopus is garnet stitch in polyester thread. The shells are out of both wound and flecked metallic threads. The threads contrast strongly. Metallic thread is much rougher than the smooth polyester. Both threads are 40 weight.

I also used a zigzagged scallop pattern for the shells. I stitched the rows irregularly with ribbed veins, so they’d seem more natural.

‘

The water is stiched with an 8 weight metallic to separate it from the shells and the octopus.

Thread choices help the eye separate the shells, the octopus, and the water, ‘It helps your viewer unnderstand what is happening in your piece in a glance.

This piece is ready to back and bind. I’m just waiting for a cool enough day.