Couching

Year’s End

| ellenanneeddy

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:

Bird quilts 2022

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

Other quilts

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.

Tiny: How Big Does a Quilt HAve to Be?

| ellenanneeddy

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.

Small work: Just Playing

| ellenanneeddy
1055-22 Blue Blooms

After all those larger pieces, I’ve relaxed into doing some tiny pieces, partially for a rest, and partially for having some new work at the Galesburg Art Center. I’d done a class with some fabric rubbing and had new colors to play with. So I played.

104822 Swirling Leaves
1046-22 Deco Bee
1051-22 Deco Daisy
1054-22 Wind over Water 3
1050-22 Coneflowers
1047-22 Ginko Leaves

It’s not a high-impact run. But it is a place to try out some new things and try out using things in new ways. That’s always fun.

1049-22 Dragonfly Mandella

I’ve also been introduced to a new thread called glide which looks metallic without being metallic. It’s a matter of color matching, but I’m impressed. I love metallic but it always behaves better from the bottom than through the needle.

1057-22 Deco Dragonflies

After this, I’m going to push through to the two next bigger pieces, but I needed a break.

The new pieces will be available on Etsy soon. Or you can look them up on my profile page.

I found the Glide thread at Feed Mill Fabrics and Quilts. They have a nice collection. If you’re missing that metallic look and you want to skip the metallic drama.

Sometimes you just need to play.

Fade to Black: Shading black objects for dimension

| ellenanneeddy
Envy

Black and white have the same problems. They’re absolute colors that are really harsh statements in their full form. I almost never do a completely black or white object because they are so overwhelmingly strong and so flat. They overwhelm instead of fitting in.

I’ve worked on creating a white dimensional bird out of different pastels and greys. You can see the result on this post, Into White.

But would the same approach work with black? Instead of using tinted pale colors to create depth, use toned darker colors to create shades of black and greys? That’s what I’m going to try. I’ll take step by step photos so you can see if it works.

Indigo Blues

Have I ever done this one this before? Sort of. I’ve done black before, but when it comes to the contrast shades I’ve turned to purple and blues all of which because they were in my stash were a bit bright. The effect was essentially a purple and blue bird. It’s a fun art statement, but it wasn’t what I was aiming for. I really did want black.

I found this great drawing of a raven I did years ago. It fits into my birdfeeder series, so we’ll see what we get.

This turned out to be hard. I ordered the darkest threads in blue, grey, brown, and purple for it. When they arrived they did look ugly.

The other hard thing was telling which were darker. The tones were very close. I used my red, and green color filters and did the best I could to arrange them dark to light.

The real question is, is this a brown/black raven or a blue/black raven? I’ve tried to mix both blues and browns for a neutral black.

It’s not uncommon for this process for the stitching to be discouraging. It doesn’t look really impressive half way through. So I’ve taken step by step photos so you can see the change.

It didn’t work the way I expected. I was quite disappointed. Then I did what I had planned in the beginning. I used black metallic as my last color. The last color is always your strongest color and the one you will see the most.

The final thing that helps this out is the background. I’m using this piece of hand dye that pulls towards the brown/grey shades even with the yellow reds in it. The color of your fabric is the light source of your piece. This background echoes the brown/blue/black quality of the bird.

Is this a final answer? It is for this piece. I want to play more with it after I’ve had a color fix working on something bright and showy. All these neutral darks are depressing, but I think I got my bird where he should be. I think he needs to be flying over conifers. Maybe I do too.

Serieous Work: Dancing Trees: If I Can’t Move That Way, They Can

| ellenanneeddy
Fall Fanfair
Fall Fanfair

My mother gave me dancing trees. We were in a train at Christmas time watching out the window when she told me, “Look Ellen, they’re dancing.”

690Fall Fanfair detail

I’ve never gotten over that. They’re still dancing.

Dancing is its own miracle. Life is a dance, and hopefully, we learn to move in it.

Not all of us do. I was taught not to move. Sitting very quietly was much safer. Instead, I lived in my head and my hands.

But it was in high school that I learned not to dance. It seems people’s mores disappear on the dance floor. It was worse than not being asked. It involved being thrown in to the bleachers. Too humiliating to try again. I’m told I should get over that. I have and I haven’t.

MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

My friends, Donna and Roy Hinman gave me back dancing. They ran a contra dance party once a month. Contra is a gentle Ring around the Rosie game for grownups. It was wonderful to move with everyone and be a part of it. Slowly they coaxed me back into the dance.

A life time of not moving is hard to translate into a life of movement. I was able to dance at my wedding. I move in my water aerobic classes. I’m limited by age, wear and tear. But if I can’t always dance, my trees can.