Breaking Through Borders: Establishing Movement through Frames

Being someone who does nature quilts, it seems unnatural to frame a background with a border. Nature doesn’t fit into a picture frame very well. Of course, there are times when you simply have to. You have a 50″ subject that needs a background and 45″ fabric just won’t stretch far enough to accommodate.

But there are other reasons to create a border.A border can emphasize a light source in the center. A border can bind your subject into the frame of the piece, capturing it almost. Breaking through that border establishes the idea that your subject can’t be contained. That it’s moving so hard and so fast you can’t keep it in a box.

This heron just turned out to be too big for any of the fabric I had. I considered splitting a light source, but the background was just too good to cut up. So instead, I bordered it.

Borders are basically a frame. And like other frames they either offer something special or they really detract. You can use a border to create a different atmosphere, to give a boundary, or to simply expand the fabric. In this case, I needed the fabric extended, but I didn’t want to make it a square box for my subject.

These rectangles show three options: an unbordered piece, a piece with equal borders, and a piece with gradated sizes. Equal borders make a plain frame for the subject. But a gradated border gives weight to the bottom, gives a travel direction to the eye, and starts the movement of the piece before the subject is even applied.

I cut my outside strips at 5″, 6″, 7″ and 8. Narrowest on the top. Widest on the bottom. The green inner border is almost the same value (black/white) as the purple so it doesn’t make as hard a border statement.

The head of the bird is in the lightest (narrowest) spot and his feet are where the sun don’t shine.

The frame also creates a light source in the center, illuminating the bird.

Using a border, not only to make more space, but to define light and direction is an easy way to make a frame. And pulling your imagery out side the box breaks the border in a way that makes the whole piece move. What could be easier?

Tiny: How Big Does a Quilt HAve to Be?

I’ve lately been working with some larger major works. This year has been about building back a body of work. And it’s been successful. Here are a few of the larger competition/gallery pieces I did this year.

These pieces excite me. They take a real chunk of time, but I’ve learned some technique this year that has speeded that up. But a large piece is about a lot of visual thought. It has to fill up space so it needs points of interest, both up close and at a distance. The longest part of a large quilt is taking the time to think it through. They don’t work like small quilts. I know people who enlarge a small design into a large quilt. I’m not one of them. The space gets filled differently. Larger quilts are made from a central object with paths drawn around them.

Smaller quilts are more like snapshots. Not much there. But it’s all good eye candy. I spent the last couple days pressing through some little artifact quilts (made with rubbings and found objects). Because they are so tiny they offer a lot of freedom.

Lately, I’ve been working smaller as well as bigger. There is something wonderful about a tiny world you can step into visually, as a private retreat. They are designed differently so they make your brain think differently. And because they’re small they’re affordable. Everyone deserves art.

Besides, tiny quilts can go in intimate small places. They don’t need a full wall. They don’t have to match the couch. They make a retreat into another world in just a tiny space.

This is the latest batch of tiny quilts. You’ll find them on sale in my Etsy Shop.

Thinking Outside the Box: That’s Not What You’re Supposed To Use That For

I remember being told I should color within the lines. It’s probably just as well I never was able to do that. I’m certainly not about to start now.

I’ve been totally hooked on paintstick rubbing. Like everything else, it’s a tool to be used with other tools. I’ve been exploring more and more how to incorporate different plates with each other in design. Here’s the latest batch.

I love them. And I’ve recently found some iridescent paint sticks in colors that didn’t come in the kits.

There’s only one limit I don’t like. The plates tend to be small. You can repeat all you like. But they don’t lend themselves to larger pieces. Not to worry. I decided there needed to be a way. I went looking for more kinds of rubbing plates. The choices are limited.

I tried drawing with glue on placemats. I tried carving foam. I got desperate and bought some fondant plates. All too small or not quite enough. Or a huge mess. Not satisfactory.

Not everything that works marvelously was made for that purpose. Some of the best tools of the quilt world have been borrowed from some odd places. My favorite thread bags were originally worm bags for fishing. Rotary cutters started as carpet cutters, I’m told. Surgical seam rippers really are a surgical tool some brilliant nurse brought in to their quilting studio.

So in that same spirit, I bought some ceiling tiles. They’re two feet by two feet. And beautiful! Stiff textured plastic. Exactly like a rubbing plate, only bigger.

Here’s what they look like rubbed. I’m in love!

So I’m not supposed to use ceiling tiles that way? Isn’t a good thing I didn’t pay any attention to those rules? I think so.

Large Quilt or Small Quilt: Does Size Matter?

I’ve spent the last year rebuilding my body of work. When I married Don, I had perhaps maybe 40-50 quilts in house depending on how old the quilts are you are showing. For the first three years my occupation here was mostly in figuring out how to live around another human being. Then I had knees redone. Three actually. You can need to have to have a knee done twice. Don gave me his house as a studio a year and a half ago. All of a sudden I’m working again on a daily basis. It’s good for me. It’s good for my heart and soul.

So I’ve been experimenting for my own pleasure, but I’ve also been working towards having enough work to show. I don’t intend to teach on the road again, but I do love showing my work. And since it doesn’t necessarily fit into the standard quilt show, I’ve always sought out sole artist shows.

That means having a full body of work. Your standard one person quilt show in a small gallery is probably 12-20 quilts depending on the size of the gallery and the size of the quilts.

Five years of not producing work doesn’t sound like the quilts would disappear. But they did. Some sold. Some got given. We went from around 50 to 15.

The size of an art quilt is about the space it fills. If it’s in a large gallery or show, it needs to be the size of God’s underwear. If it’s for a small space, it needs to fill the space appropriately to make itself known. It should at either size, change the energy of the space by it’s presence.

So this last year and a half has been a building up of work. I love doing the little pieces. They’re light and fun and full of experimentation. I’ve always loved them.

I’ve always loved doing the visual paths. They’re elongated universes designed to take your eye through a trip They make a huge statement without being huge and they fill a space in a unique way.

But big quilts. Big quilts take for ever. Big quilts are always a huge risk. They are hard , hard work. And they’re made to be show stoppers. As in, if you want a show, be prepared to make a mountain of these. Or your sort of stopped.

They usually take 9 months to a year, although I don’t work on them constantly. If they are disappointing when you finish, it’s a huge loss of time and energy.

I’ve never found that I could take a small design and blow it up large. The space fills in differently if you do that, and it’s hard to make something that’s interesting both as close up and at a distance.

Obviously it’s a matter of balance. Most people have a size in their head that is comfortable, and that’s as big or small as they go. But it’s worth working past your comfort.

Does size matter? Yes and no. Size makes impact. It makes a statement. It makes legend work.

But small work, intricate work makes a small space resonate with it’s energy. It’s worth doing it all, as best as you can. The stretch either way is good for you.