Going Straight: Stretching into Different Stipple Patterns

I’ve been working on the octopuses for around five months. There are seven in all, five finished. I’m pleased to say they make a good start for a show.

But I don’t want quilts that look like the same pieces, only in different colors.

What defines a work? Certainly subject matter. Certainly color. But textures also make pieces stand from with each other.

I’ve leaned heavily into oranges and blues on this collection, but I think there’s a good range of colors. The background is always the color of your sky, the mood of the piece, and its definition

The octopus’s garnet stitch texture connects the grouping.

Something more subtle separates them.

The stipple treatment establishes the movement of the water, but it also visually separates the pieces from each other.

Confession. Left to my own, I have three stipples I use. I really felt I needed to stretch a bit here, particularly because I want the quilts in this series to stand up as separate works.

Version 1.0.0

Leah Day’s book, 365 Free Motion Quilting Designs has become a go-to reference for me. I don’t feel a need to copy her designs, but it’s full of a lot of stimulating ideas. It’s one of the few books I store right by my machine. It’s a worthy resource. I turned to it for some different stipple ideas.

I almost never do straight lines in my work. I’m not very good at them. But I love the bubbles and stripes here. It’s almost like wallpaper for the quilt.

Here are details of the other quilts, showing the different stipples.

Leah’s book is a lovely springboard into other possibilities. It’s available on Amazon

So I went straight on one of them and survived. Maybe I can do straight lines.

Lace Jellyfish, Step by Step

I wanted three-dimensional transparent jellyfish with opaque areas.

This technique depends on the stabilizers. But there are a number of different stabilizers that will work. They are made for very special purposes.

Stabilizer Sandwich

This time I made my stitching sandwiches out of a layer of Totally Stable for my drawing, Paper Solvy, lace or organza, and Badgemaster, All the stabilizers except the Totally Stable will dissolve out of the work. What I want when I’m done is a clean outline and edge, with some white areas and some transparent.

You can make an image just with your stitching. But you have to make sure all of the stitching connects with itsself or it will fall apart when the stabilizers are gone. Instead, I used commercial nylon lace and organza as the fabric

What do those stabilizers do?

  • Totally Stable: Iron-on, tear-away. Good surface for drawing a pattern
  • Paper Solvy: Paper-like, tearaway that provides stabilization without a hoop that will dissolve in water.
  • Badgemaster: Heavy-duty corn starch topping that dissolves in water.

The order of the sandwich was, from top to botton, Badgemaster, organza or lace, Paper Solvy, and Totally Stable. Snce we’re working upside down, Totally Stable drawing layer is on top where we can see it.

The threads I chose were a polyester white top thread and a Cristalyn white metallic in the bobbin. The metallic is more fragile, and that is why I have it in the bobbin. I chose white because the background is so dark, and I wanted them to shine out. All of the stitching is done from the back.

You’ll notice that I used 2 different magic markers for my drawings. That was an error. Even with all the stitching, the marker colors showed through. I don’t mind either the blue or the orange, but they don’t work together in the same piece.

The Stitching

These are all stitched free motion from the back.

Stitch Process

Outline the image. Freemotion zigzag.

Remove any of the Totally Stable parts you want to be see-through. Score them with a pin and pull them out.X

Use a straight stitch to texture the jelly.

Remove the excess Paper Solvy and Totally Stable from around the pieces.

Stitch around the edge with a zigzag to stabilize them.

Cut away all the excess stabilizer

I edge-stitch again just to give them a more solid edge.

The Paper Solvy and the Badgmaster need to be dissolved in hot water.

Badgemaster is starch. So I took the trimmed off scraps,dissolved them in water, and dipped the jellies to give them that hard starched edge. I dried them on freezer paper. Notice that the orange jelly is the one that was drawn in orange. I need to rethink my mmarkers.

We’re ready to roll with the 3rd pin up on Octopus 5. I believe we’ll call it, Rock, Paper, Shark.

The Big Black Line: More than Just an Outline

Every image has to be attached to a quilt at some point. There’s more than one way to accomplish that. But the one I use most is a solid black line of polyester zigzag embroidery.

That sounds dull, doesn’t it?

The black poly outline does more than you would suppose. It creates a crisp outline.

I’ve tried using other colors. Bright, light, neon colors. Nothing gives the same punch as black.

It’s not true of flowers. I can use a bright color outline on a flower that pops it perfectly.

The outline defines the edge visually. If you want it to show up across the room, you’d better make it bold. The outline is the finish line.

I’m just finishing outline octopus 4. One nurse shark is outlined. One is not.

But it does two more things. It makes the image puff just a little. I like the 3-D effect.

And it holds images down solidly. These embroideries wave around the edges like the flag on a windy day. A light line of stitching does not hold them down well enough.

I did not need to cut either the sharks or the octopuses, to get them to lie flat for this quilt. All of it was done with a heavy black outline. The thread traps the edges and mashes it into place.

I used to use black metallic thread to outline metallic images. But since that has to be done with metallic thread in the top, it’s an all-day sucker. Takes forever. Endless breakage. The polyester thread doesn’t have the same shine. But I only have so much hair I can pull out in one afternoon of sewing.

Doing the Twist: Designing Ways

I’m always astonished at how much an image can change with positioning. One of the advantages of component quilting is that it can be moved endlessly to get the placement right. I went to embroidering large images some while back. But I’ve learned several other things component quilting allows me to do, and I use it constantly now.

Changing Processes

Three changes in my process made this work: component quilting, pin-ups, and daily process photos. I work with components rather than images stitched into the work. I do multiple pin-ups for placement, and daily process photos that let me track the changes.

These are all relatively new for me. But it wasn’t something I planned. I just happened to find these processes helpful, and now do them regularly just in my studio work.

Component Batch Quilting

Batching a number of elements at once allows freedom later on in the project. Instead of just doing the larger images, almost all of the embroidery is on a separate sandwich, ready to cut out and use.

  • I’m free to change my mind about each element. If I embroider a moth in the piece, that’s where it stays. Right or wrong, it’s not going anywhere. You live with your choice. If the moth is separate, I can move it indefinitely.
  • I can make images from the same color choices that are in the same range but unique.
  • I can always use whatever is left over. There are never enough fish, frogs, bugs or birds.

So now, almost all my embroideries are made as components that can be used at will. For more information on batch quilting, check out Streamline Quilting with Component Techniques.

Pin-Ups

The first pin-up is where I design my quilt. Once I put the quilt top on a sandwich, I put my main images in, see where they might fit, to rearrange things.

But the first pin-up is only a beginning. In this case, I did my pin up, added my elementals, and pinned it back up with those included. My original intent was to have the octopus learing over the top kind of like Cthulu. But it was flat.

So I gave it a twist. To make something move, put it on the angle. I angled the octopus, to put him into motion. Then I angled the other elements to echo that motion.

Picture This. by Molly Bang, is the best book about composition. It’s about how people process imagery. First, she illustrates Red Riding Hood with rectangles and triangles. And she made it work.

But she explains how we see things, what meaning we take from images.

If you are an artist, run out and buy this book. Then buy another 5 copies, because you’ll want to give it to every artist you know.

She has some very useful observations. Horizontal lines are stable. Vertical lines are stable. Angled lines look like they’re falling. If they’re falling, they’re in motion.

I angled the octopus to echo the left jellyfish.

Then I angled the nurse sharks to echo the octopus.

Daily photography

Having daily process shots gives me so much information about what is and isn’t working in a piece.

Including a black and white picture to evaluate values.

I’m always surprised at how much a little twist can do.

Finished, Except that Nothing Really Ends

I have a very hard time when things finish. I’m an INFP for those who know Myers-Briggs. I’m happier with things left open, possibilities, choices, options. That moment when something is finished is joyous, but it’s also an end, a loss, as well as a win.

This could be an excuse for the large pile of unbacked and unbound quilts sitting by my machine.

.I have a friend I just heard is dying. One of those good and bad things about getting older is that we sometimes have thirty-year-old friendships. It’s like the world shuts a window that was a bright and different view.

I don’t know how to say goodbye to a friend from that long ago. He brought me wonderful art books helped me write and publish my first fiction writing, and took me to my first country dance. Wonderful gifts. I sent chocolate Haagen-Dazs, soup, and M&Ms. We bring whatever bits we have.

I hate watching things end. Even in art.

There’s an energy to art that might be its largest purpose. There is a connection between you and your art that wizzes around the room, even in the duller processes. I do believe art is alive. It has an energy of its own, and it communicates what should happen next. It is not your child. It’s a partner in co-creation. While you are making it, it’s remaking you.

There is a finish line, a moment where the last stitch is stitched. The energy stops swirling. There is an end. It’s wonderful, but something is lost.

But at that separation, something else happens. The connection between the art and the artist is cut like an umbilical cord. But art finds its own place. In someone else’s world or heart, it goes on to do other things for other folk. Art soothes people, riles them, teaches them, inspires them, but most of all, it changes them. If art is really good, it lives past you. Nothing really ends. It moves into the next space. Other challenges. Other purposes.

I’ve peppered this post with photos of the quilt I’m currently finishing. We’re stippling today. Almost done. It’s a good thing I have another quilt waiting in the wings.

Tax Sale

We got hit with an unexpected and awful tax bill. So all my quilts are on sale.

New, old, large, tiny quilts all available at the best prices.

I don’t ever want to ask for money. Instead, I offer you my very best work at my very best price. If you’ve wanted a quilt of mine, this is the time. I’m also open to offers.

Thanks!

https://www.etsy.com/shop/ellenanneeddy

A Series of Lessons

Over the last couple of months, I’ve been working on a series of fish in the waters. This is an important symbol for me. It explores surviving strange waters, rising out of the depths, swimming with the current, and swimming against the current. It’s about flowing water and changes. It really checks all my boxes. It also serves as a connection with my father, whose religion was bass fishing. Since going fishing made better people than going to church, I respect it deeply, even if I won’t eat fish. I live in water.

So I noodle at the fish-in-the-water image often. If you’ve been following the blog, you know I made one quilt I loved, and I wanted to see whether I could recreate the energy. Not the fish or the river, but the energy of the piece.

Epic fail. I made a very nice other piece with similar hand dye, a fish I drew 5 times before I was pleased, and similar oil paint stick rubbing for the forest in the background. I hated the first fish I embroidered. I stitched a more active catfish, that was better.

Then I took a break and went to find the studio floor. Again. Everything flutters to the floor except the things that go clunk.

There it was, the best background for the embroidered fish I rejected. The fabric made a vortex, so I did too, out of stitching a swirl of sheers.

I didn’t learn anything technical from the exercise. But I did confirm what I already knew. It does me no good to recreate something. Another piece will need different components and approaches. I didn’t need to be making arbitrary rules for myself. I needed to listen to each piece to give it what it needs. If I thought I was in control, that was delusional.

Maybe this is a right-brain, left-brain thing. I’ve been struggling to organize both in the house and the studio. That’s a very left side of the brain thing to do. It’s foreign thinking, but it’s less grim than Swedish Death Cleaning. You know what? No one ever did teach me this. Certainly not my mother.But that shouldn’t stop me. If you don’t know how, you can learn.

So cleaning does turn into art. Eventually.

As Don says, “I’m a man. I can change. If I have to. I guess.”

I can too. If I have to, I guess.

Of course, I hung the quilt up and noticed that the wonderful spiral stitching in the center is unnoticeable 3 feet away. Small flowers and thick thread to the rescue. Of course, the pond has floating flowers.

The change isn’t a technique or a new technology, really. The change is learning to listen better.

Angling for Fish: The Short and Long of It

Last week has been spent in fish production. I can’t really put in the octopuses until I have the fish to create the path around them.

Usually, fish have scales, and the scales divide the space..You progress from scale to scale, picking lighter colors as you get to the underbelly. You fill in the scales darker on top and progressing through lighter colors around the belly. It’s pretty. It gives depth.

What if you don’t divide the space? You can stitch row after row of color next to each other. It looks stripy. There’s a place for that, but it’s not very natural.

It doesn’t work for clown fish.They blend from one color through another without separation.

So how do you fill in a larger space? One way is the short and long stitch.

You need to understand that none of this is a stitch on your machine. It’s all zigzag stitching. The change is the angle in which your fabric goes through the machine.

The long and short stitch is done from side to side. The difference that it spreads from both sides and fills in unevenly, shading the area softly and without stripes. The top and bottom of the image has a solid line to outline.

That kind of shading allows us to put in darker contrast colors to shade that blend right in. These fish are shaded with a dark and then a lighter purple. Since the colors are mostly covered with orange thread, your eye blends them into a shaded solid orange.

All of this is for the octopus’s garden. This is my second pin-up. I think it needs one pillar rock and some water, but it’s ready to back, and stitch.

For more information about the long short stitch, check out The Long and Short of It Blending Stitches with the Long Stitch

Mentoring: Who Were Your Teachers? Who Are You Teaching?

One of the things I miss from my childhood was the women’s sewing circles. It was old-fashioned even when I was a girl.It died out as women took jobs outside their homes. We have a version of it at yarn shops and at quilt guilds, where we get together and show each other how we work.

But my neighbor, Mary Annis, did it with her children. It wasn’t formal. She gathered her 3 girls together and included me when they sewed doll cloths, crocheted, knitted, or made art projects. Later on, when I learned to sew, it was at her feet. She was my first mentor.

I met Mary when I was eight. She saved a quilt out of the trash for me, taught me to be late, messy and not to answer the phone, explored knitting, crochet, quilting, quilling and tatting, and gave me room to breathe. I can’t imagine who I would have been without her.

Even in the days of YouTube, we still need to learn from people. We don’t just learn a skill. We also learned about how and why. It was an introduction to being a creative adult, a crafter, and a maker. It was, for me, life-changing.

Art has its own form of mentorship. We teach art in colleges. We have art classes. We can learn all the techniques and tools. What the classes don’t teach with the hows is why.

Studio hygiene. is about making creative space inside and outside your head. The outside is about work, protecting your body, and making work physically easier. The inside is about making a space where creative work is possible. That is part of the how. That space shuts down judgment, rude comments, negativity, and fear. It opens the doors to new worlds, knowing that perfection is neither possible nor necessary, nor even helpful. All we need is a safe place to try things.

Which leads me to another mentor from my past. As a brand new teacher, I taught art and music at a Catholic school. It was a flawed place. The books were ancient, the equipment was nonexistent. The headset was mid-70s Catholic repressive.

Except in one room. Midge Gamble was in her sixties. She taught 3rd grade at this very 3rd-rate school. She had precisely the same books and equipment. She refused to let in was the 3rd-rate attitude. Where the other classes were angry, hostile, her classroom atmosphere didn’t allow that kind of repression or the anger that fuels it. She helped me understand that the teacher makes the classroom

We learn from models. We learn from what we see. At some point, we show others.

Next week, I have the privilege of teaching in the MAP Program at the Peoria Art Guild. They’re a group of high school kids full of potential, passion, and ability. The program gives them experiences with all kinds of artists. It’s a great experience for these very talented kids.

So I come back to Mary. They had a memorial for her at the home where she lived. One of the ladies turned to me and said, “She tried to teach me to knit.” I said, “She tried to teach me, too.” Whether we could learn or not, Mary had shared it with open hands.

Learn one, do one, teach one. It’s how we build community and civilization. I hope you had wonderful mentors. And I hope you get to share with others who are passionate to learn.

Check here for more information about the Peoria Art Guild’s MAP program. It’s a free program they offer every year to serious high school artists. And a wonderful community.

IF you’d like to read more about Mary, her daughter Betsy did a wonderful blog of this amazing woman’s life. You’ll find it at Marygram.blogspot.com