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?

Wake It Up! Sparking Color With Overstitching

I love creating color with thread. The threads available make an endless choice of colors. You’re eye blends the bits f thread that peek out from their layers. It makes colors that are rich, dense, and complicated. What’s not to love?

But sometimes it gets too monochromatic. I was working on this heron and I wanted some fish companions for him.

When I picked out my threads for these, I wanted them red to stand out from all that grey in the heron. Red is funny. Like every color, it can lean either to the sun or the shade. A balanced red would use threads of both tempuratures. I used both kinds, a little purple and teal for shaders. And I threw in a green just to spark it.

By the time I got to the green, the whole mass was bland. Pretty. Stripy. Bland. I put in the green and it just woke up. Then more reds and finally oranges.

The green stitching on top is garnet stitch, in small circles. It changed everything!

Yellow overstitching creates a swirl on the fish face that helps round the face. Overstitching adds a color layer, but it also breaks through that bland smooth color.

It helps, of course that the yellow complements the purple, and the green complements the reds. But the textural elements also wake up the fish and feed our eyes.

Year’s End

What can you do with your days, but work and hope. Let your work find your dreams through your play. What can you do with each moment of your life, but love till you love it away.

Bob Franke, Thanksgving Eve

It’s the end of the year. I don’t always pay much attention to that. Every day is a studio day, and everything else is pretty much second to that.

Three years ago, I thought I was done. I thought I wouldn’t go back to my art. I had lost so much and I didn’t see a way back.

Then three things happened. I sold a major quilt I never expected to sell. It was big, it was odd and although I loved it, I knew it wasn’t within the mainstream. But it sold.

I told Don, and he turned to me and said.” Do you want a studio?” “I have a room,” I said. “No. A studio. He gave me his old house as a studio. And because we’d sold the quilt, there was enough to make it into a studio.

That changed everything. Between that sale and a place to work, God, or the universe, or just two people told me that it was not over and I should go back to work. And that they believed in me. I have no words. Thank you is inadequate.

Art is about finding beauty, finding sense, finding ourselves. It’s about retelling our stories. Sometimes your life is your art. You pour yourself into what you’re making. Sometimes your art is about finding ways to make your life beautiful and more sensible. Functional. It isn’t that some of us are artists. That’s for all of us. It’s our birthright as human beings that we are many things: a drummer, a potter, a writer, a musicial, a mother, a gardener, and among all of those, an artist. As we live we switch through seasons of doing art and living our lives as an act of art. It really is genetically who we are. Our art defines us and redefines us, but essentially, it retells our stories until they make sense to us.

So here is the bulk of my work for this year:

In all, it’s a year when I made over 200 square feet of quilts. I had a show at the Cove Center in Havana, Il. And I showed off my work at Feed Mill Fabric and Quilts, and at the GAlesburg Art Center. And I could. Why?

Because of the support I got from you all. When you follow my process, share your own journey, purchase a quilt or fabric, let me show, you aren’t just interacting with me. You’re impacting what I can do in the future. You are making resources available that make my art possible. Again, thank you is inadequate

Small Artifact Quilts

For that, in return, I try to give you back my art, my process, my knowledge, and my love. It’s small, but it’s what I have. And it’s mine, only because you’ve given me yours.

To Don, words are completely inadequate. But I’ll make you fried mushrooms tonight. It’s a sign and a symbol. And it’s art into life.

Cut Off the Same Cloth: Elements that Work for More than One Quilt

Years ago someone asked me how many mushrooms go in a quiche. I asked back, “How many mushrooms do you have?”

I don’t make copies of things. I do make variations, and I find it useful to rethink some things I’ve done before, or more importantly tried to do before. I might get lucky. You never know.

But there are some things I know I can always use. There are never enough dragonflies, daisies, frogs, or mushrooms. They make an excellent point of interest for a visual path through a piece. And every so often I make batches of them.

The last two quilts had lots of frog and mushroom action. But they are such different pieces. Why did that work? Why do the same color elements work in two really different color backgrounds?

I’ve thought about it a bit and have decided that bright is a color all of its own. Green Heron Hunting features a bright fall-red sky, a stream, and some rocks. High Rise Living is a soft-colored background as a garden with lobster claw plants dangling in the breeze. The backgrounds couldn’t be different. But both backgrounds are a strong contrast to the mushrooms and frogs. High Rise Living is almost pastel. Green Heron Hunting is a bit somber. Both of them are high-contrast against the backgrounds

Batching regular elements has changed my work a lot. I find I can do larger elements with much less distortion. The downside is they need to be stitched down afterward. The mushrooms get stitched down with the most prevalent color on the edge. The frogs and other elements usually get stitched down with black. I don’t always like the heavier black borders, but it eliminates a lot of pucker and distortion.

So I continue to make batches of the elements I know I’ll use again and again, Contrast, any contrast makes elements work together. And there’s always room for one more frog.

Shimmer: Defining the Background

I have two quilts I’m finishing right now that you’ve been watching me work on. The threads I choose make all the difference in their background effects. Shinier threads will create a shimmer, a wet or wild area. Less shiny threads are more indicative of air or ground. I’m treating them with different threads and patterns to create a specific effect in each case.

For a very wet look, I’ll use Sliver and other flat threads. These really shine across the surface. I prefer them for either starry nights or for water.




The other thread I’m using is Madeira’s bug body thread, FS2/20. This amazing thread has a black core that gives it a very different texture. Zigzagged it does look like bugs. As a stipple it has a sharp look without the intense shine.

I consider both these threads incredibly beautiful and essential. But I use them very differently. Because they create an incredibly different texture. Why is that important? The texture defines the area for our eyes. Shiny thread will create that wet feeling. A sharp undefined metallic does excellent air or dirt, all defined in our thread choices, with no more work to it than that.

Green Heron Hunting is set with water, air, leaf, and ground elements. The air and the ground are very similar. I don’t want a soft look. It’s fall, so I want it to be crisp and textured. So I chose Sliver for my stream. But the ground area with the frogs and the leaf tree tops are stippled zigzag with the FS2/20. There’s a glint of metallic, but it’s different from the high sheen of the water and the eye separates them immediately.

For the air, I chose a driving straight stipple pattern to suggest wind. But I put in a repetitive garnet stitch in it to make it look more driven.

For Fishy Business, the background is all water. So I used Sliver-type threads exclusively. The very shimmery background contrasts highly with the completely poly-embroidered fish. They both shine, but in very different ways.

Your thread choices and stipple patterns define the background. Contrast is the key. If your background and images contrast each other, they will stay visually separate, and help your eye to see the separation.

If you’d like more information on stippling and threads, check out. Skimming the Surface: Bobbin Work as Stippling.

Another Fishy Story: Thoughts on Color Range

I’m working on another fish quilt. I’m not sure quite how these fish will go together, but I’m aiming for three different colorations out of the same color range.

I wanted gold fish. But good fish are not made of the same gold. Why? Well, seven fish all colored identically seems fishy to me. The nature of nature is variance.

So I pulled a range of colors that went through yellow greens and orange golds.

Coloration is about filling in space to a large degree. A large space accommodates a large range of colors. Usually colors are set with a base dark color, a shadow color, a range of progressively lighter colors, a shocker color and a lightest shade on top as a highlight. Except when it’s not. That works very well with large areas.

Fish have scales which usually aren’t that large. Usually there’s room for a base color, a shader, a center color, a shocker and then a highlight. This gets more limited as the fish get smaller.

For each of the small fish there’s a base color, a shader, the next brighter color, a softer shader and the next brightest color. I’m putting a shocker around the eye and in the bottom fins.

So I’ve done four fish in red/green, yellow/purple, orange/blue, and yellow orange/ purple, to explore the progressions on this. You’ll notice all the shaders are complements.

It’s a trick to have a number of elements in a quilt with different colors to match each other in tone. Since I’m choosing threads off the neon fluorescent chart, that kind of takes care of that.

There are three large fish, but I wanted to do several fish in the full range. Here are process shots on four of them.

Fish One

Fish Two

Fish Three

Fish Four

Notice what a difference in makes to outline them for the second time! The stitching inevitably creeps over the outline, so they need to be crisped up, sort of like fish sticks.

So here are the fish in process, small ones finished large ones left to go on the background. I worried about them feeling too different, but the range gives them variation without seeming like they don’t belong.

Ressurections: When it Turns

Tomorrow I have my first sole artist showing in over 10 years, I’ve been working for this for 2 years.

Tomorrow I will be at the Galesburg Art Center for a sole artist Pop Up Sale. I’ll have threads, fabrics and quilts all on sale for the day. Out in public.

Sometimes your art is your life. Sometimes your life is your art. I’ve had many people tell me they weren’t an artist, or that they no longer could do their art. I did not understand that when I was younger. I leapt from one project to another, I lived and breathed dye and thread.

But it changed. At one point I was teaching more than I was showing. And that was an obsession too. I opened as many good doors as I could for the people in my classes. Demoed daily on unfamiliar machines. Learned to help people find their way to do what they were working towards.

And then it changed. There weren’t the same opportunities. The teaching slowed. And the passion for my work was gone. I sank into the sunset, learned to knit and crochet, Dealt with my far too worn knees.

It got kind of grim. There are times when your art is your life. But when it isn’t, you really do have to make your life an art. Find ways to feed your eye. Ways to make your heart beat. Allow things to go fallow, I wrote three books, which I believe have probably annoyed everyone who read them. Raised a garden and some neighbor kids. Kept a pack of greyhounds. And I pretty much stopped quilting.

That was when Don came into my life. I’ve never been a believer in love in terms of a noun. I believe it as a verb. It’s not a thing, that you own. It’s actions made on choice. It was an astonishment.

Alumni and Faculty Book Signing; Homecoming 2018

I knew Don at college. But I don’t think either of us knew each other at all. He stood by me as I got my knees fixed. Three knees later, he gave me his home as a studio. And came with me every day as I worked on one piece after another. He opened doors for me I thought were shut forever. I don’t have words for it, but thank you is a start.

When I announced this show, someone posted on the list that she hadn’t heard from me in years and she thought I was retired. I wrote her back that I hadn’t died yet.

It’s changed. I’m in that place where I can’t stop working. I’m on fire. There are resurrections. I’m still here.

I don’t remember who made the post. But I have some hopes for her.

I hope she has a passion that lights her life.
I hope that when her life changes, as life does, she finds good things that heal her heart. I hope she understands that she is a human being and not a human doing. That we all have times when we can produce things and times when we cannot.That there are ways back, not to where we were but to what is next.

I hope she gets a resurrection too.

Tomorrow, August 27th, I’ll be at the Galesburg Art Center, 341 East Main Street, in Galesburg, IL from 9:00 to 3:00. I desperately need to sell some things. I’m out of dye, steam a seam, fabric and steam. But being out of things means I working as hard as I can. I am so grateful. To be able again.

Splitting the sky: The Advantage of Split Light Sources

I don’t piece well. It’s not my skill. Anything that takes accuracy and careful cutting really isn’t my skill. The new 770 Bernina came with a foot that does make it better, but I don’t normally do large pieced tops. I know better. It’s not pretty when I do.

But there are rare occasions when I piece a split light source top.

Why? Why walk into accuracy land and piecing?

A light source brings you fabric with direction, and a built-in world. That world can be integral by itself. But if you want to filter the light as if it were through haze, woods, or shadow, you can piece two light source fabrics to create that shaded look. There are several approaches, with different effects.

Vertical Piecing

Where the Heart is

Where the Heart Is was pieced from two separate yards of the same blue/orange color range. I lay both pieces together on the cutting board and cut them in gradated strips, 2″, 3″, 4″, etc. Then I sewed them together with the narrowest light of one to the widest side of the other, in gradation. Set in a vertical arrangement, it makes for light flowing through the trees.

Horizontal Piecing with a Frame

Envy

Envy was one horizontal light source yard, split in gradations with a half yard cut in 2″ strips put between. The piecing creates a sense of space. The narrowest strip in the gradation defines the horizon line.

Piecing within Multiple Frames

Sometimes I split the two fabrics with the light at the widest on one side and the dark widest cut so they can carry the light across the piece. Twightlight Time was also double framed with a 2″ and a progressive border. Having a narrower border on the top weights the bottom of the piece.

Piecing Machines

Lately, Don found me a Singer 99 at a yard sale. For those of you not familiar with these darlings, they are a featherweight industrial drop-in bobbin Singer. They only straight stitch, but the stitch is impeccable. They are tougher, and faster and they use bobbins that are still commercially available. I’d never seen one before, but I fell in love instantly. It took a little work and some creative parts searching, but Don got it working for me and it’s perhaps the best piecing machine I’ve ever had. Did I mention Don is my hero?

So I pieced the guinea hen’s background on it.

How do you keep it straight? It’s tricky. If I get them out of order the fabric doesn’t progress correctly through its colors. I make all my cuts, leave the fabric on the cutting board until I can number the pieces all on the back side. Since there are two pieces of fabric cut, I label my fabric, 1a,2a, etc. and 1b, 2b, etc. and chalk in the sequence on the ends so I can always keep them in order.

Expanding Fabric Size

Sometimes there’s just a beautiful fabric that needs to be bigger. That’s been known to happen too.

I needed a background for What the Flock, a grouping of guinea hens. I’m low on fabric and money right now, so I have to make do. I found a purple piece that should make a great meadow, but a yard was just a bit small. So I pieced in another half-yard to expand it. I cut the half yard in 2.5″ widths and graded the yard-long piece in segments of 9″, 8″, 7″, 6″, and 5″,

Seam Rollers

For those of you like me, who hate to run back and forth to the iron, there is a seam roller. You can use this gadget to flatten your seams right where you’re sewing. Roll it over the seam and you’ll have flat, ready-to-sew seams without the iron woman run.


I don’t piece often, but these backgrounds are worth it. I love the shaded light and the action of light of the fabric across the piece.