I Need Your Help

I’m starting a Patreon Page.

Many of you have probably had classes with me. God bless you for that!  I love my students for their enthusiasm, their creativity, their generosity and their company. We’ve all been on this journey together. I’ve watched us reach for stars, and sometimes catch them too. We grow with our art, by our art,  and through our art.

But time catches up. I don’t really teach at guilds anymore. The travel is too hard. That doesn’t mean I’m not growing through my art. I’m still finding new things to do and new ways to do them. ‘And I always want to share them with you.

There’s another downside to not being able to travel. I’m in danger of losing my studio. Because I’m not teaching on the road, I don’t have a steady source of income.  I understand it. We’re in a tight economy, and there isn’t always money for art.

So it seems we need to find new ways to do that. I do have a blog. I share on Facebook and Instagram, but I want to give you access to more. I want a place where you can get class booklets that are currently unavailable. Or look up a technique and see it demonstrated step by step. I’ll offer small projects that make a big difference in your skill level. I’ll feed you lots and lots of eye candy. I want to welcome you to where I live, in my studio.

If you’re unfamiliar with Patreon, it’s a platform where you can support me and I can share with you. You become my patron in whatever level is comfortable for you. There is a free tier as well. It’s a small and more regular way to keep art going and to be part of that art.

I’m currently working on a book called In The Studio, which is about the process of creating fiber art. Not the cleaned-up version. I want to show the zigzag process of design and creation. I’ll be offering this book live as I write it so you can see it first.

As a community, quilters have supported me in ways that still stun me. And when I come to you with a need, you’ve all responded so kindly. I would not have become the artist I am without your kindness, care, and support.

So what would you like to see? I need to know. I’m offering books and articles that have become unavailable, project and technique articles and videos, early access to In The Studio, my current book project, live question-and-answer sessions, mentoring, and quilt points where you can purchase a quilt with your Patreon contribution.

I want to honor that support by starting a quilt point program. Every dollar you send me through the Patreon Soar tier goes toward any quilt you wish to purchase. In love with a special quilt? Tell me, and I’ll hold it for you.

Are you interested? What can I offer you? Will you join me?

Popping Up: The Pop Art Element

I’m not a very abstract person. I’m not good at reducing forms or working without a visual reference. Of course, I’m not always wedded to reality either. I believe that when we stray from a photographic reality, who we are, what we mean, and what we see have a way of coming out to say, “Hi!” And a lot of other chatter as well.

For a long time, reality was the task of art. Up through the Renaissance to modern art, we’ve lauded the ability to make something that looks real. I find that wearing as an artist. If you want complete realism, you probably want photography. You’ll see your image just as it is. Once we had photography, realism stopped being a goal and became something accomplished.

Photography works for the surface. It fails me for movement, for mood, for expansion off the canvas, and for the feeling it gives me. I have nothing against photography. But it usually leaves me a little cold.

So once we left realism as the only goal, there was room for all kinds of experimentation.

One of the experiments was Pop Art. There were many versions of this. One was to repeat an image in rows or patterns in bright colors. This is Andy Warhol.

Andy Warhol, Converse Tennis Shoes

I’m not interested in tennis shoes, but I do want to see what happens if I put repetitious octopuses in bright colors together. This is the first octopus. The plan is to put four together. I’m not sure if I’ll use rows or weave their tentacles together.

The colors on the octopuses echo the hand-dyed fabric I’m using. They have a light source that shifts the colors through the tentacles.

Here are three more in different states of completion. When we’re done, we’ll see what pops up.

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.

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

Making Rocky Roads: Rocks Out of Cheesecloth

texturized pebbles

Once I find something that works, I tend to stick to it. A creature of habit, like anyone else. What pushes me out of the box? Mistakes! Misorder! An inability to find what I need! Basically, it takes a catastrophe. Fortunately, it doesn’t have to be a big catastrophe for it to do the job.

I really love using rocks in my work. They weigh a piece. They can form a visual line. They add a dark shadow or highlights depending on your color choices that frames the piece. They identify the bottom of a piece.

972 Shelter from the Storm unstitched rocks

I’ve used hand-dye for years for rocks. It already has that mottled texture and color. I used to soft edge the appliqué so the edges weren’t as obvious, but I’ve come to like the shading I can do with black thread. Inner shading works better with a straight stitch. Outside edge works best with a thin zigzag top, and a heavier shaded bottom.

texturized rocks

I sat down and started cutting rocks for the Octopus surround and realized, I didn’t have enough rock fabric. I dye greys and browns specifically for rocks, But there is almost never enough. And greys and browns are regular backing colors I use all the time. But if you’re working on three quilts at once, that’s a lot of rocks.

They also need to be differing colors. Rocks are never all the same. That’s part of their charm. They need to fit well enough to be identified as rocks, but they need a separate individuality to work.

Earlier this year, I ordered a box of cheesecloth. I use dyed cheesecloth for leaves, flowers, and other translucent things. I bought a box of cheesecloth at Joann’s every year or so. That cheesecloth was a uniform open weave,

Now that Joann’s is gone, I found that cheesecloth is graded in sizes by the number of threads per inch. Makes sense. It’s how we class thread and fabric.

I overestimated and ended up with a much tighter weave of cheesecloth. At first, I thought it wasn’t a problem. Then I realized it was much less transparent and much more like regular cotton.

I’d dyed a batch that sat on my table for a long time. It lacked the same transparent grid of the lighter-weight cheesecloth, and didn’t do the texture of leaves as well.

When I went to clear the table, there it was, in about a dozen browns and greys.

So if I use cheesecloth for rocks, what changes? I have to choose a background that will show through. The weave will show through as a grid of sorts, but that can be pulled in different directions and stretched.

Normally, I stitch my rocks on black felt, because it gives me an edge that fits with the stitching. If it’s all backed in felt, it should work.

Interestingly enough, what changes is how the stitching looks. Straight stitching sinks into the texture of the cheesecloth and is less visible. But the cheesecloth makes it more textured.

I’m not sold on cheesecloth for rocks, but I think it works here. I can always stitch heavier.

One More Time: We Need Another Fish

Fall Waters the original quilt

Late last year I did a fish quilt that I thought was really successful. As an experiment, I took some of the same elements to see if I could make something that matched it in energy and beauty. Not copying. Just trying for the same feel. It failed. It laughed in my face.

This is not a new thing. I have piles like an archaeologist’s dig of pieces that didn’t work, tucked into the corner or another. And I raid those piles regularly, looking for the next thing.

Here is my failed experiment. I found it tucked in one of those piles. Could it work a different way?

first fish for fish rising

I blame the fish. He’s a nice fish. A little clueless. But not compelling.

New catfish

So we/re trying again. Same background. New fish. Something with more drama going on.

At that point, I abandoned the idea of using the same components. This quilt needs its its own water and world. I put in sun motes across the surface. I decided against small embroidered fish because I already had some wonderful ones rubbed into the fabric in gold.

Fish Rising, with a different fish

Once I added the new fish, I felt more assured. Full disclosure, I cut off the white tail ends since they made it look like Pac-Man. Much improved.

We’re not done yet. Lots of layers of stitching and sheers left to go. But it doesn’t feel like a loser anymore. My experiment was very useful. You really can’t step into the same piece of art twice.