Anonymous Was Who?

Beachcombers
Beachcombers

For heaven’s sake, sign your work!

I’ve told this story before. I worked with a gallery who thought it was to their interest to remove the labels from the backs of my quilts so no one would be able to contact me except through them. They did not tell me that.

What happened next they really couldn’t have predicted. Someone stole 7 of those quilts. It was ugly. I know who. And I was that willing to never see that person again, that I have resigned myself to never seeing them again.

Even if the thief dumped those quilts in a place where someone could find them, they’re like children traveling on a bus without a note pinned to their collar. Someone might recognize them. In the same way that we may have snow in July. Not likely. I’m resigned that these quilts are gone for good. They were my teachers, as all good quilts are. At some point, I’ve learned to let go of pieces and hold on to what I’ve learned.

Breaking the Ice
Breaking the Ice

Recently I was on facebook where someone posted about how they hate to sign their work.

My hackles raised. I climbed on that hobby horse and here I am! Sign your work!

Why?

Because your work is a measure of your life! It deserves documentation. It is a document in itself. Someone, your children if not your critics, will look at it and know you better. And find joy, and knowledge and power in what you did.

There is a book called Anonymous Was A Woman. This book, with all respect to the author, makes me furious.

It’s a lovely book and a real situation. Most women at some time have been only known as anonymous. It makes my blood boil. It’s a self inflicted nastiness. You can choose to be anonymous.

But why would you? Why would you silence your own voice? Why would you hide who you are? Who is served? Who is honored in that?

We are not anonymous. We are women making statements in our art and our lives that need to be heard, even if our statements are private and stay close to home. Not signing your work is an anonymous ransom note to the universe.

I now label all my quilts. And I sign and date them in the stippling. Someone will want to know. And I want them to know all about you and me and the things we made. And who we were. Sign your work.

Stippled signature
Damask Rose 911-20
Available on Etsy for Sale

It may be subtle, but the signature is in there, and they have to harm the quilt to remove it.

I also do an iron on label, computer printed from June Tabor’s Iron on Printer Fabric

This label has my name, the studio name, address and web site and phone number. The quilt number is the actual number of the quilt with the year it was made afterwards. There’s a space for me to sign the label when the quilt is sold.

Of course that can go wrong too.

Nothing is correct on this label at this time except the name of the quilt. Since the quilt itself is a document, I tend to leave them as they originally were made unless an owner asks for a label with their information on it.

Should you have a quilt of mine you want an updated label on, contact me and we will of course make one for it. Safety first.

Archival: The Drawings in the Pile

Fish drawing
Embroidered fish

For every embroidered creature in one of my quilts, there’s a drawing of that creature inside the quilt sandwich. I’ve always worked that way. The drawings are on Totally Stable, an iron on, tear away product by Pellon. I iron the drawing on to the back of the stabilizer and color it in with thread.

I wish I were good at drawing. I’m not. What I am is willing to do it over and over again until I have something I like. so there are piles of these drawings, some that get used and some that used to sit in a mesh laundry bin, mushed in with mountains of other drawings.

They weren’t bad drawings. Sometimes I’d pull them out and use them. They just weren’t drawings I’d used yet. But the mesh bag was a bit less than archival.

Today, Don unearthed his old file cabinet. Amazing! Flat storage!

I spent the rest of the studio day looking at old drawings that I’d saved, and gently folding them flat in preparation for being used.

It makes me wonder how much art we work on gets set aside, only to be mushed up, and forgotten. It makes me want to pay more attention to the side things that don’t quit work, just to see if they would work another time or in a different way.

Heron drawing

This heron needs some fineness. And perhaps a lot of thick thread. Now aren’t I glad I found her in the pile?

Noncommercial Part 2: What Are You Going to Do with All that Dyed Thread?

If you’ve been following my posts, you know I did some thread experiments on dye day.

Experiments are always just that. Might work, could work, did work, did not work. All information.

But I worked with threads that are NOT workable in a commercial teaching setting, largely because of the way they’re put up in manufacture. The best way to dye thread is in (reasonably enough) a dyers hank. That means it’s in a flat loop, usually confined by a paper label or by twisting into a skein. Do all threads come that way?

No. No they don’t. But since I’m not producing for class or for travel I can fuddle around with the weird stuff. The trick is to get it in the end into a form where you can get it on the machine. Between a ball winder and a swift I can hank up anything I like. (See Noncommercial blog post.)

Here’s some of what I tried.

# 20 Pearl cotton, dyed and undyed
Well, even I know that won’t work. But look at the colors. The thread and fabric are dyed from the same shades.

# 20 pearl cotton fits in the needle as well as the bobbin! Since the cone didn’t feed onto the machine I filled a bobbin for thread from the top.

I love the Frizzle I dyed!

Look at it as branches for a tree. I have the cotton string I dyed here too, but the frizzle definitely wins.

Do I love the new threads I dyed!
They are to dye for!

Will I experiment with new threads? Well there’s all that thread that didn’t arrive in time for dye day…. Stay tuned!

The Dance of Dye: Seeing Your Fabric Born

You’ll need to forgive the way I look. There’s nothing glamorous about dye day. Or really dye week. Prepping fabric, dyeing fabric, washing up, washing out and ironing are all really blue collar fun. You sweat and get messy. Never mind that I’ve missed my last three hair cuts.

My friend Lauren Strach used to come to visit, partially for dye day, but mostly for the day I ironed. Because that was the day the fabric came out of the mangle.

Hand dyed fabric is pretty. But like all of us, it likes to dress up. It’s nice hanging out to dry. But you really get to see it when it comes through the mangle, pressed, starched and pretty. It rolls out like a beautiful woman floating down a staircase.


Of course the real moment is when you get to see it with hand-dyed thread

Lauren is a fabulous fiber artist, who explores a number of styles, in amazing ways. You’ll find her work on Instagram.

I’ve been privileged to watch her work grow. And she would come and drool with me over the freshly ironed new hand dye. She lives in Oregon now, and I in Galesburg, IL and all of that would take a lot of arranging to do again. But I treasure the memory of watching her face as the fabric would roll out, pressed and precious. And the things she would do with it.

You’ll want to see more of Lauren’s work. It’s a journey in color, texture and joy.

You might ask why I was mangling in the garage instead of the new glorious studio! We had misbehaving mangles. Don found me a lovely mangle that lasted just long enough to blow black smoke and powder on the floor immediately after it was plugged in. We took it out and found that new amazing IronRight. It stopped opening and closing about five minutes in.

I had a long cry, and we waited a day to plug in my old mangle from Porter and she worked like a charm. You bet I sang to her!

This is Don companionably sitting on his mower in the garage while I ironed my fabric. He had to sit somewhere. Did I mention I really like being married?

I do dye fabric for others as well as myself. This was a good dye run, and People regularly ask me to dye what they want for a particular project. But I do have some fabric from the last dye run I would be willing to sell if there’s an interest. Contact me and I’ll set up a video phone conference if you wish to pick some out for yourself.

You can see the flower already started here.
1055 N. Farnham Street
true
Galesburg, IL 61401
USA