Author: ellenanneeddy

Avoiding the Easter Bunny Look: Shading with Pastels

| ellenanneeddy

Anatomy of a Color Scheme

There’s no help for it. If you are shading a pink bird, you’ll need to use pastels at some point. I’m not a fan. But you don’t get to throw out a section on the color wheel. Eventually, you’ll need all the values: tones, jewels, and pastels. Tones and jewels. Yes! Pastels. not that much.

Let me break down the color scheme for you.

There are six color zones, in the feathers of this bird, and then a zone for the neck and thighs, the feet, the head and the bill.

There are two progressive color themes going on. The pink under body and feathers, and the green overstitching. Both progress from dark to light.

Where did it go wrong? I chose the wrong yellow.

White objects are rarely pure white, unless you want a posterized deco look. They’re made up of other colors pale enough to be perceived as white. The bird itself is pink. I pulled in bits of lavender and yellow to blend it and to create a shadowed projection. I chose the wrong yellow. If you look at the top feather, you can see a strip of yellow that’s pretty loud.

You know that kind of Easterbunny pastel. Yellow, pink, blue, purple, and maybe green. It’s only appealing if you’re under the age of five. It missed here. I stitched some cream and natural white thread all over it.

Then I added the overstitching. The overstitching takes center stage, and the yellower bits back off. I think I’ve saved it. It also browns out the pinks a bit. They’re all there, but quieter for the green.

What should I have done? I should have lined up that yellow in a row with the other colors and taken a black and white picture of it. I would have known right there. But I’m happy with it now.

I’m ready for the next step, which is the background. And I think it needs yellow fish and birds.

Scrap Wrangling: Pyramid Cheese Puff JArs

| ellenanneeddy

I’m about to get crafty on you. I usually don’t do a lot of Pinterest. But this is a Pinterest-inspired answer that I’ve been looking for for a while. I’ve been reworking my studio storage. Which is a nice way of saying I’ve been clearing out all the stuff cluttered in the corners.

I create heaps of scraps. Of all kinds of things. They silt up. some of those are cut shapes I use for design. I have collections of clouds, water ripples, leaves, suns, moons, and flower bits cut out of lace, cheesecloth, and sheers. If they’re in one place and I can find them, they help create the elementals in my backgrounds. If they’re not contained, they float across the studio floor under immovable objects. Sometimes never to be seen again. Sometmes found years after the project is finished.

Hence the cheese puff jars. Don has an addiction to cheese puff balls. I can’t eat them without setting off my celiac, but the containers are great. They’re small plastic barrels with a pop-on lid.

I’ve used these for years to store scraps. or to store threads, paints, dyed yarns, thread ends. Unfortunately, they tend to float back and forth over the floor. You can accidentally step in one, with predictable results. They’re somewhere between an answer and an accident waiting to happen.

I was trying to figure out how to make a storage container for them. I tried mesh shelving. Not quite the right size. I was considering making a shelf system out of PVC. Then I saw a Pinterest post of cans glued together as a pencil sorter.

Gluing bendy plastic bins sounded awful. Then I thought of elastic.

It sounds like you could just wrap elastic around them and pin them together. That was harder than it sounds. I used 1″ rolled elastic and #2 safety pins. I cut elastic the right length, and pinned them together. Then I pinned the elastics together with safety pins into a harness. I slipped the barrels into the harness. Two rows of elastic gave me more stability.

I’m pleased. I have a collection of fabric rocks all together where I can find them. And a water/cloud sun collection. I can put them right by my photo wall and design with them. And a station for 3 different kinds of scraps all in one place. Those have open lids so I can slide bits in as I cut things. I can either use them on their sides, or upend them. It’s all within reach.

I stacked mine in multiples of three. That makes a pyramid and it’s possible to move them as a unit. Groups of three are easier to move than groups of six. I wouldn’t try for groups of nine unless I didn’t plan to move them.

It remains to be seen, if groups of three can be stacked.

Haven’t tried working with them yet, but I’m excited. How long did it take to make the pyramids?

Some thoughts:

  • Cleaning the jars is essential. they’re greasy. The new Dawn Power wash spray does a really good job.
  • You could take off the labels, but that seemed like work.
  • There might be something else out there that is sold in a barrel, that doesn’t leave as much residue, but I don’t know about it. Let me know if you find it.

Rethinking retooling

| ellenanneeddy

This last year has been a disaster for my sewing machines. Most of my work depends on intense embroidery. Lately I’ve depended more and more on that stitchery for my images. I love it. But it does wear and tear on the machines. I had 6 major machine breakdowns. last year. I broke down 3 220s, my 770, my 630 and a 930. Some have fixed. Some have not.

I’m a Bernina girl from way back and have been a Bernina Ambassador for most of my career. I work with Berninas because they are tough and they stitch accurately. That doesn’t mean they don’t break down, Particularly if you’re sewing at speed demon speed for hours on end. I was told this is my fault.

I suppose it is. It’s what I do. I can either back away from this kind of stitching or find another way.

Zigzag embroidery allows for intense detail and color, I can’t step away from it. I also can’t keep breaking machines. So something has to change.

Don is my miracle in this. He’s a wizard with older small motors. He’s not specialized in sewing machines, but very mechanically savvy. He’s collecting manuals and parts machines. As always, he’s my hero.

I really can’t function though without a working machine and I prefer 2 backups. I’m not exa sane without a sewing machine.

Years ago I bought a 20 U Singer for intense embroidery. That’s not what these machines are known for. In a way, they’re the cockroach of the sewing machine world. Not in the sense that they hide under the cupboards, but because they are pretty much unkillable. You find them most often in dry cleaner shops for repairs.

It was a mixed success. This thing eats babies and cats, breaks thread constantly, and is fast—too fast—even with different slower pulleys. And it was the weight of a tiny elephant. When I left Porter, I left it in my studio, where it has sat.

Ken, the person renting my house, offered to bring it to me. That in itself is a huge glft But I’ve had my reservations about making this machine work. I first felt I was stepping backward, Is it an answer to the same problem? Is this machine tough enough?

Well, we know it’s tough. Can we make it work with embroidery thread? There’s the question. It’s also paid for.

It had its problems before. But things have changed. I now use stronger threads. I no longer work in a hoop. And we found that a servo motor would step down the speed. So it’s coming to the studio sometime this month, and we try it out. I’ve gone from feeling like I’m stepping back to seeing new possibilities.

You can’t step in the same river twice. You are different and the water is different.

I’m digging out the studio this week to make room, which is why I don’t have new work to show you. I’ll let you know what happens next.

Wish me luck. I think it’s time for another spoonbill.

Going Straight: Rethinking Along Straight Lines

| ellenanneeddy

I’ve always joked that it didn’t matter that I couldn’t do straight lines because I really didn’t want to. I tend to justify my limits a bit. I do know better.

I left behind piecing when I was a beginning quilter, because I was much more interested in quilting in creatures than following straight lines. I was also rotten at straight lines. We are defined not so much by what we take up as by what we discard.

So after years of beautiful curves and free motion ecstacies, I find myself if situations where I really do want to make a straight line. At least sometimes.

It all started with a ceiling tile. I have a ceiling tile that rubs out like prairie grass. I love it. It gives the movement of grass without a heavy shape. But the lines are basically straight.

I’ve stitched them with just my darning foot, to mixed results. I couldn’t follow the lines as well as I liked. They’re pretty, and I love the grass stems, but I wanted them to be less sloppy.

I was browsing through some videos where I found one of Leah Day using a ruler and a darning foot together. I’m quite a fan of hers. She has done a lot of good innovation with stippling and texture. She showed how to quilt with a darning foot and a ruler.

I know it’s a long-arm quilter thing, but I had never tried it. There was a special foot involved and some very pricey rulers, so I decided to try to do it on the cheap.

Berninas aren’t either really short or long shank machines. They’re a whole other system. But I do have an adapter for feet that works pretty well. I ended up ordering a short shank darning foot and a five inch omnigrid square.

The foot with the adapter was an epic fail. I could put the foot on the adapter, but it wouldn’t make a proper stitch without breaking needles.

I went through my old Bernina feet and found one that came with a really old machine. It was a darning foot with a raised lip. It worked. Clearly there’s a learning curve.

Would it have been easier to buy a new foot? I’m sure. But it was also pricey, Next time the ship comes in, I’ll buy one.

Will I do this more? There are times when a straight line is just what you need. Probably no way out.

So we have a win for old weird Bernina feet and ingenuity. I’m always pleased with new possibilities. It’s like someone slipped a new toy in my tool box. My reeds are everything I could ask for. They’re almost straight.

Deciding Rather than Designing: Starting from Scratch

| ellenanneeddy

I wish I were someone who could take a design and execute it. I can try. It’s a case of man proposing, and God laughing. Instead, a series of decisions are to be made at each point. Each decision points to the next.

One of the most useful things I do in a class is to start a piece from scratch. It’s not like there is a direct list of what you do next. But there are some decisions to be made. It helps to have a plan.

Here is the list of things I need to decide for each piece.

  • Background-The hand dye creates the light and the atmosphere for the piece. It usually is the first choice. Does it have a sunspot? A pool? A field of flowers within it? It dictates almost everything, especially the lighting in a piece.
  • Major Images-These are the main focus. I draw them in Totally Stable, backwards. They iron on to the back of the piece and remain inside the piece as a pattern.
  • Atmospherics-Water, light, smoke clouds, and sometimes leaves and flowers are atmospherics. They are usually made of commercial sheers, handpainted lace, and dyed cheesecloth. They make a translucent presence in the piece.
  • Details/pathway-These are smaller embroideries, or stones, or leaves that can be used to create a visual pathway through the surface.
  • Texturizing the surface/stippling- after all that embroidery, the rest of the piece needs to be integrated. The stippling over the surface can pulls the piece together.

There are no right or wrong answers. There are simply decisions. Each defines the piece. What I choose not to do also shapes the definition. I’m OK with that. I’ve learned that each decision I reject can be featured in the next piece. Or the one after that. I’m not making one perfect piece of art. I’m creating a body of art that explores the limits and range of my techniques and my skills.

This piece, like most of them, started with a piece of fabric and the idea of herons. I dye a number of pieces of fabric as cenotes, wells of color. Some times the cenotes make a light source, but this piece made a wonderful pond.

The birds started as whistling herons. But at a certain point, they were indistinguishable from the Louisiana Blues. So I did them as blue herons. It’s important to finish the major embroideries first because they shrink. You don’t know how they’ll fit in until they’re embroidered and cut out.

The atmospherics for this piece are water and grass. The grass is an oil paint stick rubbing of a ceiling tile. The water is accentuated with c-shapes of hand painted and commercial lace. Then I put in rocks to anchor the pond and direct the eye.

I decided on damsel flies and grasshoppers, as pathway elements. They did not work the way I had hoped. The damsel flies fit in, but I’m not sure of the grasshoppers. I’ll have to finish them to be sure.

Finally, I wanted seedlings growing up through the water. I made big beautiful bold seedlings the size of God’s underpants. Again, not the best choice. I scaled that down and it was much more effective, although I might want bigger ones at the bottom.

This piece is pinned in position. I’ll be stitching soon. But most of the decisions are made, step by step, before it’s stitched down.

Backtracking: Going back to Old Tech

| ellenanneeddy

I’m always looking for a better way to do something. Easier. More visible. More user-friendly. Tech changes as we go along, partially because we get smarter about what we do, partially because we learn from others, and partially because the materials, thread, and stabilizers change and we change with them.

If change isn’t a four-letter word, it should be. It’s not easy or fun to develop new ways to do things. But if we are going forward on an artistic path, it’s inevitable.

Except when it’s not.

I developed using free-motion embroidered appliques as an anti-pucker technique. First I did it only with quite large objects. Over the last couple of years that has developed into what I call component quilting, where almost all of my images are done separately on a sandwich of hand-dye, felt and Stitch nTear, and then cut out. I apply them to the quilt surface only when they are completely embroidered.

What does that do technically?

  • It diminishes the puckering around heavy embroidery by cutting it away
  • It creates a strong visual image that pops off the quilt surface.
  • It creates a larger outline than you might want for a smaller image.
  • It allows you to use a zigzag stitch for quicker coloring.

What did I use to do? I stitched my images directly into the quilt sandwich. It was where I started as a quilter. First I used to stitch images into the quilting. Then I began to stitch with specialty thread so those images would show up better. It was at least 15 years before I began to stitch the images separately.

What does that do?

  • It requires either straight stitch or very narrow zigzag because of the puckering
  • It allowes the background to show throught the embroidery, so that it blends in more.
  • It can be seen on the back (which is really cool if you embroider directly into the quilt sandwich
  • It puckers up anyway, but less than it would with zigzag

I’ve pretty much stopped using direct image stitching. This time I went back to it strictly for the aesthetics. I wanted fish that did not stand out as much as the frog. Doing component embroidery on the frog and direct embroidery on the fish makes them different in appearance and creates a visual sort where your eye lets you know they are different. I wanted the frog half out of the water and the fish firmly in the water.The fish were outlined in a narrow black zigzag, and then stitched straight stitch from the back with metallic thread in the bobbin.

Did it work that way? I’m still figuring that out. The fish are quieter than the frog and seem part of the water. I’m not sure how I feel about the look.

I do know that I can’tafford to throw away technique. Some things just work differently. Having those options is holy.

Frog River is now available for sale at my Etsy Shop.

Etsy

Does it Have to be Yellow?

| ellenanneeddy

I started a new quilt this week. like most quilts, it started with an incredible piece of fabric.

It’s been a while since I’ve dyed, so I’m down to the most fabulous, I’m scared to use it wrong fabric, and the stuff I really don’t care about.

This piece took time to figure out because it’s only a half yard. Sometimes that’s plenty of space. Sometimes it’s not.

but it made such a good pond. All that yummy blue purple against yellow.

I wanted herons, and I found a sketch of herons I used for my information.

Unfortunately, when I looked up the specifics, it was a whistling heron.

In case that sounds unfamiliar to you, you’re not alone. A whistling heron is from eastern Asia.

Is it different especially from other herons? Not so much. Heron head, heron wings, heron feathers. But yellow. The body is yellow.

I think you can see my problem. A yellow heron is going to show up on this like a yetti in a snow storm.

OK. How real do I have to be? What do I want to accomplish with this piece? Am I copying life precisely? Am I playing with interesting shapes or colors? How tied am I to “The Real Thing.”

Henry James wrote a story called “The Real Thing.” It was about an artist who had a reduced gentleman and lady offer themselves as models to him. That had to be a pretty harsh come down in the world for them.

They said they were the real thing, but in truth, they were only that one real thing. He found the girl who could be a gypsy, madonna, dance, lady and probably was a lady of the night, a much better model because she could be anything with his imagination.

Modern art launched right around the beginnings of photography. There’s a reason for that. Up until then, the goal was to come closer and closer to real. Suddenly, you could have a completely real image at the click of a button. An artist can’t really compete with that. So different things have to happen.

So where do we go if we’re not more and more “real?” We start exploring, shape, light, color and texture. We start to think what if. We start to let the art define itself. We find it defines us in the process. That’s a whole lot more scary than real.

But worth it.

I decided these herons could just be herons. And little blue herons are the perfect color behind all that lovely lemon yellow.

So these birds can be blue and shine in their yellow, not so realistic but perhaps symbolic, world. That there are pools of water, even in strict drought. That we find them even under extreme conditions and can thrive past the hardships. That we are not completely defined by other people’s real.

You’ll find a free copy of Henry James story, The Real Thing, here if you want to read it. It’s an interesting thing for artists to think about. Why are we painting, sewing, drawing, and create? What do we build in doing that? What reality do we create? Because as artists, that’s our job.

The Next Generation: Teaching at the Map Program at the Pe0ria art Guild

| ellenanneeddy

I don’t have much work to show you this week because I was preparing to teach yesterday at the Peoria Art Guild. The Peoria Art Guild is one of the most supportive art centers I’ve ever seen. Not just for these kids but for established artists like myself, and emerging artists first bringing their work to the public, and for people who just enjoy being part of an art community it’s a astonishing place. It’s become my art home. I am so grateful.

So when the Peoria Art Guild asked me to teach for their MAP program I was excited. I had no idea how great these kids are. I’ve done it for three years now.

These pieces are in process.

The Map program is a Mentor Artist Program for seniors and juniors where established artists come in and mentor them.

What are these kids like? They are amazing! Talented, unafraid and energized. I was awed today.

I love teaching. I love the connection, watching their pieces come together, watching them build skills and confidence and find their own art. That has been a privilege.

I teach because I believe that art matters. It’s not about a process or a skill, or what you make. It’s about the ability to work with your heart and your soul to express yourself. It’s emotional literacy. The one thing unique thing each of us has is our vision. When we can share that, the world is a little wider, the bridges a little stronger, the light a bit more illuminating. The darkness stands back. We make art to shift and change the world.

What do we give to other artists? Our techniques. Our inspiration. Our studio workflow. Our vision. Our joy in creation. Our appreciation of their path, as we travel our own.

Would these kids make art any way? I don’t think anything would stop them. But giving them a broad base of skills and experience with different materials means they can better find their way. The MAP program is a fabulous opportunity for them.

The Peoria Art Guild brings this to these kids each year. I saw them grow ten feet tall in one day. It;’s a magnificent experience. For myself as well as for them.

If you have a kid in the Peoria area, Senior or Junior next year, who lives for art, consider this Map program for them. It’s free. You’ll find information on the Peoria Art Guild Site.

And IF you need a breath of art yourself, the Peoria Art Guild is there for you.

Peoria Art Guild

203 Harrison St,

Peoria, IL, 61602,

 3096372787 info@peoriaartguild.org

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A River Runs Through it: Creating Stunning River background with Oil Paint Sticks

| ellenanneeddy

You know I go crazy over oil paint stick rubbing. My first tries with rubbings were not successful. But at this point, I use them regularly to texturize backgrounds. Mostly I use commercial rubbing plates. They’re pretty and flexible. But they’re not very big. The technique lends itself to smaller pieces. They’re fun. But covering a half yard of fabric with a 6″ square design takes forever

This was a leftover piece for it. I love it but it’s just too small. And I wanted a piece that would give me perspective on the river I wanted to build for my frog river.

I love this background. I found I had a leftover frog and dragonfly, and they suited each other quite well. But the fabric didn’t feel enough like a river. It needed water and rocks.

. Unfortunately, I haven’t found any rock rubbing plates.That just meant I wasn’t looking in the right place. Lowes has some rock backsplash tile I’d purchased. I love the texture.

Here’s the extra rock tiles I found. They are backsplash tiles from Lowes. They are on a thread mesh, but they are real rocks.

Rivers are often defined by the pebbles at the bottom. So I decided to build my river with some rock rubbings.

So I went back to Lowes. In the backsplash section, I found a collection of rock tiles in different sizes.

I also picked some rubbing plates that make good river foliage.

I drew some chalk lines to show me where to put the river. Then I began with the smallest rock tile

I went to the larger rocks landing at the bottom. Then I rubbed blue and purple ripples through the river area.

This is subtle. But I do like it. Here the frog and the dragonfly fit into the river and sky. I’m planning on minnows and cat tails along the edges.

I finished off the composition with water patterns over the rocks. Then I added a layer of blue and green sheers for that wet look. I can hear the water running

What’s the take away? I can build depth into my piece by making a path that starts near me and gets smaller as it retreats. I also can find stones and tiles that pass as rubbing stones at any good hardware store. And I can make a river out of a paint stick, a backsplash of rocks, and a water rubbing plate on top of them. That’s a lot to ask of a piece of fabric and some paint. But we all know that oil paint stick-rubbed fabric is a magic of its own.

Check out this earlier blog on working with oil paint sticks if you’d like a tutorial on using paint sticks.