Machine Hell: How Commercial Do You Need to Be? In Search of a Tough Enough machine

The Broke Down Bench

What do you do when your techniques are killing your machines?

This is about component embroidery. Lately, I’ve leaned more and more on component embroidery to create large astonishing embroidered images. I love the work it creates. I am completely reliant on my machines.

I have a love/hate relationship with most of my sewing machines. I really love them when they work. I’m in abject hell when they break down.

Since I’m a Bernina girl from way back, I’m used to tough well-built machines. Yesterday, my ancient 930 had a moment. I thought it was a screwdriver fix; It was not. We’re playing mix and match between the two 930s in the studio. Neither is quite ready for prime time. It has brought to mind how intensive my work is.

That was underlined by the 3 220s I managed to break last year, and my 770 which has spent 7 months out of the last year in need of several kind of repairs. And is once again in the shop.

These are lovely machines. They’re built tough, and I’m still having them break under me like I was shooting horses I’m riding on in a battle. I’m devastated. I know better than to have only one functional machine. Because always, inevitably, something will break.

When I talked with my mechanic she said “You do know you sew more than other people..” Which means I stitch very heavily to make my images. Meaning perhaps I’m asking more out of a machine than it’s built for.

Which leads to the question, do I need a different machine? Do I need a commercial machine?

I went through this several years ago when I bought my 770 Bernina. It’s fast. It’s got that nice long arm and some lovely features. It does not put up with mad-speed sewing. I love it. I’m afraid of it too. It threw its hook at me through the door on the bobbin mechanism. I wish I were kidding. And I don’t know what to do about a machine that’s off more than it’s on.

So here’s my 2025 Challenge.

Do I change my work because my machine won’t do it? Do I find another way? Do I look for other tools? Or do I back away from a stunning technique that lets me do things past my earlier abilities?

Which leads me to humming something like a Sheryl Crow song. “Are you tough enough to be my sewing machine?”

Being an artist is only peripherally about making art. It’s mostly about developing skills, ideas and visions. The art is a byproduct. It is a picture of where your art is at a particular moment. This is why I can always let go of a piece of art if it raises my abilities as an artist. Any artist’s first creation is the skills, techniques, and vision you make art from.

I’m looking. I need a zigzag machine that is commercial grade I can control the speed on. And I need to find some money to look with. I’m always willing to give up a piece of art to further what I can do as an artist.

Those of us who live an artist’s life live with constantly unbalanced finances. Don and I are on social security. I don’t discuss my difficulties hoping for a handout. But I have used my art to fund things I couldn’t buy any other way. I’ve offered work of mine at dead rock bottom prices, when the need arises. I’ve never asked for money itself. I’ve offered the work I have to make what I need happen. I’m doing that now.

These pieces represent work I couldn’t have done ten years ago. They’re made with component quilting elements, separately embroidered and incorporated into the quilt itself. It’s changed what I can do. I need a tough enough machine to do it.

So my quilts are back at 40% discount, on Etsy.

If there’s something you are in love with, this is the time. And I’m open to offers. I am a motivated seller. If you wish to see more information on my body of work, it’s also on my Portfolio Page. The price on the portfolio does not reflect the sale price, but you can click through from the portfolio page to the Etsy shop.

Also, if you have knowledge about industrial or particularly tough zigzag machines, I’d love to talk with you. I need more options, and would appreciate your expertise. And if you have questions about a particular quilt, let me know.

Thank you!

Ellen

THe Point to it All: Abstract Roses

I love roses. I no longer have them in my garden but they often fill my quilts. I was working on a batch of roses for a quilt that’s out of series of brambles over old walls. The backgrounds are oil paint stick rubbings with blackberries or roses growing over them. It;s based on a memory of a french fairy tale where there was an ornately carved wall with roses growing over it. The movie Ever After (a cinderella retelling) has a scene with a wall like that.

This time I’ve been working with a drawing of a red wing blackbird, but the black was just too boring. So we went blue instead. It worked with the rubbed background.

These roses are abstract. They’re made from spiral cuts of sheer fabrics, intertwined and stitched free motion. I’ve done them before. Abstraction is about taking one or several parts of an image and letting them represent the whole. But stitching the points felt so good. I tried to figure out why. It’s not exactly what a rose looks like, but it has the spiral form of the petals. The spiral reminds us of the structure of roses. Where do the points come in? Some roses have folded petals that look like points.

Abstract work is hard for me. I’m not an accurate person by nature, but it takes me a while to simplify something enough to abstract it. I’ve done it from time to time, but it’s not natural for me. But the point to the roses, was all the points.

I wanted white roses, but you can’t have just white. Without color there are no shadows. I went with a pallet of pale blues, lilac, aqua, cream, grey, and green. The white fabric spirals make the image white and the threads make the shading. As I was working stitching the roses, I noticed I really liked putting points on the edges. It made them much more rose like.

Then it occurred to me. The points were an echo of the thorns of the rose.

When I had my Porter garden, I came to love my roses not only for their scent or their loveliness. Roses are aggressive. They are, as a species, 30 million years old. They are lovely scented thorned privacy. And I thought my birds might need a little privacy.

These arr partially stitched down. I hope to finish them this week.

Here’s the rest of that series. I love the idea of walls covered with rose vines.

A Very Buggy New Year: Streamlining Quilting with Component Techniques

Component quilting lets me streamline my quilting. I have two quilts I’m working on that will need some bugs. Why?

Both of these pieces are going to need some help building a pathway. Bugs are a great way to do that. They flitter across the surface and they create movement. But these need a significant number of bugs. It’s just easier to make a batch. I think ended up making 35 in all.

I did damsel flies, moths, and small white butterflies for the frog/turtle quilt.

For the bluebird quilt, I wanted larger white butterflies.

This batch of bugs was a color lesson for me. Normally I ignore gold and silver thread. When there’s purple and green metallic thread, why would I use gold or silver.

All of the bug bodies are from Madeira FS2/20 thread. The black core thread really looks like beading up close.

I tried the opalescent white as a butterfly wing. I was underwhelmed. I really don’t like the pink quality.

I needed the white that silver brings. I tried going over it with silver afterwards. It was not improved.

Opalescent white under silver does a nice bright white. For those birds, nothing else will do.

I wanted a softer quality for the moths and the swamp. So they were done from polyester threads.

For the damselle flies I needed a solid carapace and see-through wings. The iridescent thread did the wings nicely, even with the pink cast.

Different threads offer really big differences in the result. In this case, it keeps the bugs separate from each other and from the other elements in the quilt.

Size is a limit with component quilting. Things under an inch and a half are hard to keep crisp and have too heavy an outline when they’re applied. But for most elements, it allows me to choose where to put what. Choice is good.

The Quinticential Label: What Do You Put on your Quilt

I’m a big believer in documentation and in keeping track. The last quilt I finished was numbered 1,162 since I started counting my quilts forty years ago. I figure there were about 100 before I started counting.

So I was pretty shocked when I found I had 12 unlabeled quilts from this year and it got me to think about labels.

At one point I embroidered labels with a pfaff.

Years ago, I had a gallery person remove labels from quilts of mine, because she wanted to be the only port of contact for people to reach me. That was before we all knew how easy it is to find anyone on the internet. Some of those quilts were stolen later before I replaced the labels. I have forgotten her name and her gallery. I’ve never forgotten what she did. She didn’t mean harm, but there are always unintentional consequences. There is no way I will ever see those quilts again.

I now make labels that are glued and stitched into the back of my quilt. You cannot remove them without permanently obviously damaging the quilt. Once I found this method, I never looked back.

Recently I found a method that makes fabulous labels I can personalize exactly to my needs. Avery labels used to have computer programs for you to use to print labels. I haven’t seen those in years, but they do have a service online where you can design labels either in batches or one by one. Printavery.com has a full-service label printing program. I use the 5264 6 label sheets for large quilts. They are 3.3″ x 4″. You can put both text and pictures on the label. I also use the 5263 10 labels sheets for smaller quilts. Those are 2″ x 4″.

The labels are all well and good, but a paper label is longterm useless. So instead I print my labels on June Tailor Quick Fuse Fabric Sheets for Ink Jet Printers. These sheets are a regular size 8.5″ x 11″ piece of fabric with fusible on the back. You can print them and cut them into whatever label sizes you want. They fuse beautifully with a hot iron.

So what do you need on a label? Your name and the quilt’s name are kind of the basics. Then it’s a matter of intent. The quilt for your beloved child, or someone laid up in a wheel chair is personal. I’d whatever you feel the need to say. Uncle Bob, Christmas 2024, made with love. For your new baby Beth from Granny. Whatever.

Commercial needs are different. What I want out of a quilt label is to identify the quilt, and make it possible for someone to reach me if they need to. I also want a label they can’t pry off with a crow bar.

I’m working with a large body of quilts still in house, so I need an inventory number of some kind. That number is the next number on the list plus the year it was created. So number 1162-24 is the 1,162nd quilt I made, finished in 2024. Hopefully, I won’t screw up and put down the wrong number. It has happened before. But remember, I also have the name of the quilt on the label.

I use my studio name, Thread Magic Studio, because it too is an identifier. If they type that in on line, they’ll be able to reach a current address and phone number for me.

I used to pick on picture for the year for all the quilts. Now I put the picture of that quilt on instead. It’s an instant identifier.

I’ve debated the next part for a while. Currently, I have my shipping address and phone number. But things change. If I’m sending out an older quilt that might have old information, I check and replace the label. If I’m sending out a large quilt to an owner, I ask them if they would prefer a label with their contact information on it.

Should I add a website and an email? It’s not a bad idea, but there’s only so much space. I can’t personally read anything in size 9 type. I think internet information is more likely to change than physical addresses.

So this is what label sheet looks like. I’ll cut it apart with a rotary cutter and round off the edges.

Some Tips

  • There is sew-in label fabric available which I do not like nearly as much. The fabric isn’t as nice and it doesn’t fuse. The packages all look much the same so check.
  • This does require an ink jet printer. Don lothes them, but a laser printer will fuse the fabric to your printer. Very unhappy.
  • You probably want to feed these sheets one at a time through the printer. They do jam sometimes.
  • You can print anything you would on regular paper. But keep in mind what it looks like. The preview section on the program will you check.
  • Clean your iron first. Or use a pressing cloth. The iron fabric tends to smear easily.

Is it worth the time? I find it so. I can’t keep track otherwise. But any quilt you make deserves to recognize you as the artist, and the information to find it’s way home.