In Reflection: Creating an Image Reflected in Water

i need to start this post with a full disclosure. I am deeply dyslexic. I wasn’t diagnosed until I was teaching myself, but the b’s, p’s and t;’s periodically spin like tops for me. I’m not so hot on left and right either.

So when I wanted to add a reflected image into water on a quilt, it wasn’t an easy thing.

I start most quilts start with a good dyslexic exercise. I draw in pencil and trace a copy with a Sharpie. The drawing is ironed onto the back as a pattern and is backward. My thread colors top and bottom are the same, so I know where I’m going. This is charted water.

But a reflection isn’t exactly the same. I wanted to put a reflection of the birds in royal rails.The reflection in the water needs to be flipped vertically. But not horizontally. Add to the confusion that if you trace the shapes with Steam a Seam 2, the pieces will be cut flipped horizontally. I thought I could accommodate that by flipping it upside down. Nope. That did not work. I ended up with feet that pointed the wrong direction, Here’s the thing. By the time you take the drawing, trace out the pieces for the shadow in organza and put them on to Steam a Seam 2 to glue them, they’re backward again.

I never figured it out for this quilt. When I put in the water there wasn’t enough space for the reflection. It whipped me.

I can see it if I make a model. If I try to hold it in my head, my head explodes.

I finally made a little model. Both images are flipped horizontally. The bottom frog is flipped vertically.

I made several color layers from the drawing tracing out the frog, the turtle and the snail bits in separate color layers of red, dark green, and light green. I laid the turtle layer over the whole drawing, and placed the cut-out bits in. It was tedious, but it worked.

Now what is left is to place in water over and under the shadow image. And add waterlilies.

I feel like I have a new tool for my tool box! All kinds of reflections coming.

Studio Rules for MEntal Hygiene

Sometimes quilts seem to just go off track.

I got seduced by this mockingbird in a threat display. The feathers were amazing. But it was way off what I usually do. I work with water most of the time. I don’t think in desert.

So I did my research. Looked up cactuses. Found pictures of owls living in cactus burrows, which really intrigued me.

I made lizards, owls, and cactus. When I got those up, my mockingbird didn’t fit in. It was a whole different energy. I left out of the desert owls and at some point, it drifted to the floor.

These owls made sense. And out of all those lizards, only one was right.

After I’ve finished a pile of quilts, I find all kinds of bits left over. I start a quilt by making a number of pieces I think will fit into the piece. But they change a lot as I work them out in the embroidery. And sometimes a piece just doesn’t fit into what I had in mind.

This is a familiar moment. I have embroideries I keep for years, waiting for the right piece. An embroidery that size is an investment of at least a week of stitching. But if it’s not right, it’s not right. I’ve been known to completely redraw and redo something that just was wrong. Or use leftover roses and butterflies with the same abandon as I would leftover mushrooms. I think the bird landed under the chair. That’s where I found it 6 months later, along with a set of lizards I hadn’t used on the desert quilt

There was this amazing orange piece of hand dye. It fit right in

And if I had those lizards around, I think I would be annoyed as well.

There are several studio rules I try to keep for good mental hygiene.

  • Put it up where you can see it.
  • Wait until you know you’re right.
  • Hold on to work even if you don’t know its purpose.
  • Trust yourself that your instincts are correct.
  • Remember that nothing is wasted. Not time, because it’s learning time. Not materials, because it will turn into something someday.
  • Remember that energy is renewable. If your energy fails, it’s nap time.
  • Remember that it will all be alright in the end. If it’s not alright, it’s not the end.

It’s ready to back and bind now. I’m so glad I waited for this piece to be right.

Yellow Birds: Following the Compulsion

Anyone who has written an art statement knows that meaning is illusionary. I think it may be whether you are visually oriented or verbally oriented. Verbally-oriented people can tell you what everything means. They understand their visual architecture. I find them fascinating because I can’t do that.

I get haunted by images, by different animals. and by small worlds. I work with those images until I’ve worked it out. Sometimes I have an idea of what it means. Mostly I don’t until and only after I’m long done. Somewhere my mind must know what it’s about. But it’s not conscious. Instead, the images need to work their way out.

This year, I’ve had a compulsion for little yellow birds.

Those of you who know me well, know I had a rough time in high school and before. I was targeted by people who chased me, hurt me, and humiliated me, while other nice little apaths stood against the wall and watched snickering. I do not want to hear I should be over this. You don’t get over this. It’s happened and it’s who you are, forever. Because it happened, you live in a world where it always could happen again.

It’s not that I remain a victim. It’s that I have no patience with bullies, sociopaths, apaths, and people bored enough to do this for fun.

So most of my quilts are social commentary. They’re about living in a dangerous environment where there are predators. They’re about finding a safe way through.

Not safe, necessarily. Livable.

So in a world where we are discussing canceling peoples’ basic human rights, we’re not to complain, and where we’re supposed to trust a rapist to protect us, it seems no surprise that I’ve had little yellow birds finding their way through my quilts.

May they find their way. May we find ours.

Ferning: Adding Fake ferns to a Quilt

I’m a big fan of silk flowers and leaves. I love them as an inclusion. They add extra texture and color in a marvelous way.

So I was delighted when I went into the Galesburg Mission sale to find a pile of fake silk ferns.

I love swamps and wet lands, and ferns are just part of that. But they’re not easy to do either as stitchery or as applique. They are detailed, fussy and wonderful. But I haven’t ever stitched a fern I was truly happy with.

Not every fake fern will do. You need one that’s fabric rather than plastic. They usually come with a plastic support glued to the middle of the fern. That peels right off.

Your left with a lovely fern. They can be bent in any direction to fit right into your piece.

I’ve been working on this spoonbill quilt for some while now and I’m almost done. But my trees had bare bottoms. Ferns to the rescue!

I’ll show you how to stitch the ferns down next week. I could try to trace the edges, but they’re bound to do the shimmy under the needle. So instead, I’ll add a layer of cornstarch clear topping (Solvy) pinned over the top and stitch through that. The topping makes everything lie flat. If you use monofilament nylon, the stitching is invisible. When it’s all stitched down, you spritz the topping with water and it dissolves.

It goes without saying that you can do that to silk leaves and flowers as well. Check out It Came from the Dollar Store: Including Silk Flowers and Leaves in Quilts for more information.

Greens Are Good For You: Color Theory for Frogs and Turtles

I think the most exciting moment for me when I’m planning a quilt is when I pull my threads for the coloring. Thread painting really does act like painting, with several small differences. You mix paint. You layer thread on top of other threads, and your eye mixes the colors.

Threads are tiny. This means that the colors can be brighter, darker, and showier than you might want for paint. Thread painting is for showoffs.

So here are our color choices. I’m tempted to let the frog be metallic, but the color choices are much more limited. I can dust it with metallic thread afterwards to make a sheen. But I want the full range of colors poly will give me.

The biggest difference is the background fabric I’ve chosen for a base. The background always shows through. The brown background will make the turtle much more brown.

This drawing has three color zones: the snail, the frog, and the turtle. Somehow we need to make those three zones demonstratively different from each other. That is done by contrast. We can contrast color, texture, sheen, and tone. We have to make them visibly different from each other.

Another question. Do I embroider them separately or together? I drew them in one piece. But each image is going to distort, but not in the same way. The textures need to be different so they will tug and pull differently from each other. So I can’t really predict what will happen. The images may distort a bit. So I separated my drawings to embroider them each alone.

I also can place the creatures exactly where I want them. That solves my problem. If I separate the drawings, they’re remain in proportion to each other.

The turtle is easy. There’s some rhythmic patterning in the shell. That can create a textural difference. I also want to lean into the brown/yellow greens that make it contrast against the blue-green water. So instead of blending these colors, I’ve laid them next to each other to create scales.

The frog needs to be the star here. I want to lean towards bright greens that lean into yellow and a smooth skin texture. So he’s on a bright green blue. Bright green threads will make him very green indeed.

Both creatures feature garnet stitch. Garnet stitch is moved in circles across the embroidery. The texture makes for lumpy bumpy turtle/frog skin. For more information, check out “The Variable Garnet Stitch: Building Texture

I used the same accent colors for both. The reds and oranges are exactly the same. I’m hoping that will help tie them together.

The snail is sort of the cherry on top. It’s naturally a beige and brown item, but something fun needs to happen here. Need to do some research. I haven’t stitched on it yet.

The other thing I want to do with this quilt is a water reflection. I’m not good at these, but they are so exciting. I’m going to try again on them. That’s next week’s blog.

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Gilding the Lily: Adorning Fabric Rubbings

A couple of weeks ago, I did a series of small rubbing pieces. I use rubbing plates and oil paint stick. I focused on different backgrounds, flowers, bees, dragonflies and butterflies. It’s an endless river of design choices in a tiny scale.

I’ve loved working with tiny pieces. It’s nice to have a quick result, and they’ve proved to be popular. Who wouldn’t want a delightful piece of art that fits everywhere and doesn’t cost much.

The rubbing plates I’ve been using are a limit of sorts. I still haven’t figured out how to make my own. I will. I want it bad enough, I’ll do it.

But I’ve enjoyed working with these flower plates to stretch what they might be.

But there’s another side. It’s soothing to spend a couple days just stitching. The rhythm of the machine, the movement of design, and the feeling of watch thread flow from the needle to the fabric all create a tao that’s gotten me through endless tough times. Demanding focus to actually color in the lines is very good for me. A lot of my stitching can be mindless. This is not. I have to try to hit the line.

I’m going to show you some of these before and after I’ve stitched them. It’s a magical change that always thrills me.

They are transformed by stitching. They’re lovely, just as fabric rubbings but they change in amazing ways, once they’ve been stitched.

These are supposed to be waterlilies. But with some background and color changes, I think they make fine Dahlias.

These are supposed to be forget me nots.

But I love them as carnations

But there’s another side. It’s a place to explore and work with colors differently and stitches differently. Not endless change, but small differences not tried before. Is there anything I haven’t tried. Of course there is. Move it over a quarter of an inch and add peach, and I’ll bet I’ve never done it before.

I’ll be finishing these little quilts in a day or two, and they’ll go up on the website and onto Etsy for sale. You’ll find tutorials on rubbings and stitching on the video page.

Take time to try things out in little ways or big ones, as your work needs. It feels great to stretch a bit.

Over and Over Again: Ladybugs, and the Need for Serieous Work

No. I did not misspell that. All art, all creative process is a journey where we ask questions about design, color, shape, materials and techniques. Each piece we do is an answer for the question. Do I make a big moon or a small one? Out of Angelina Fiber? Or tulle? Or that strange gold brocade I just brought home? Do I make rays? Or a big circle, or spirals woven into each.

How do you do the black and white parts of a ladybug? Bobbin work again, but showing different directions.

Put them all together and they make a series. Series work helps us answer a billion and one questions.

There are no right or wrong answers. But each quilt gives you other questions to try. And since experience is the best teach, each quilt is a new experience, even if you will never do it again. Try a new thread. Will it work from the top or shall I put it in the bobbin? This machine likes this kind of poly monofilament. Will it work better with a cone holder? Horizontal or vertical? Endless questions that can only be answered by an endless dance of doing.

But the other reason is fascination. We regularly explore bits of the world that fascinate us. I’m fascinated by bugs of all kinds, but in red? Red? Where’s the red?

Well of course, I now have a reason to explore all those reds together. What if she isn’t really red?

Do I find repetition boring? NO! I find repetition changes everything as we put together the puzzle of each piece

So, if there’s something I don’t know the answer to, I sit down with a pile of new work that just might give me the answer. I’m not repeating myself? I’m on a journey. Who knows what I’ll find.

Astro Thread: Variagated Threads in Stippling

Just pinned in place

I’m on the home stretch with my guinea hens. My working title is What the Flock? But there’s a temptation to call it Coffee Hour. If you have a better idea, let me know.

One of the last things I do with a quilt is the stipple. I don’t mean just the pattern of stippling. I mean the filling in of the background with stitchery.

Stipple in process

It’s pretty mandatory. If you do the kind of stitching involved in embroidered applique, you need to connect the rest of the piece with some kind of stitching. So the last act is stippling the surface of the quilt.

This quilt has a split light source. We talked about that earlier in Splitting the Sky. It doesn’t have a lot of dramatic color change through the piece, nor does it need it. So I’ve decided on a stipple with Astro through.

I love Astro threads. Beautiful multi-colored threads that sing across the surface of a quilt in stippling. They shade a quilt top beautifully.

I also hate astro threads for shading an object. I get seduced every time. I look at the range of colors I have, decide that I could fit in an astro thread to add to the shading. Then I finish, turn it over and run for the stitch eraser.

Why does it work that way? Several reasons. It depends on just what color the threads are and how often the threads change color. Some astro threads come in a two color spread. That’s easier to handle for shading. It tends to blend the two shades. Shading requires that thread be at least within the range of the value (lightness and darkness). If it swings too far one way or the other, then the color range will shift farther than you’d like.

Most Astro threads are roygbv. They tend to go through a large chunk of the rainbow. That’s really pretty for stippling. But the colors end up in odd spots on your embroidery. And if there’s a color that doesn’t blend in within the mix, it’s painful.

I wanted a metallic thread for the background stipple on this piece. I decided between two metallic threads from Madiera

Madeira has two multicolor metallic lines. Supertwist Astro is a shiny flecked thread. FS Metallic has a black core and looks like beadwork. Both of those seemed like good stipple options for this quilt. Peacock, the black version is almost the same in both threads except that the Astro one has pink in it and the FS has red.

I also wanted to try a zigzag stipple. I like that a lot for some pieces. It’s a different texture.

I expected to like the zigzag more than the straight stitch. But the smoother shapes make something more like the dirt barnyard texture.

I often do a sample like this, if I’m not sure. It solves the question before I stitch in. But I like the FS straight stitch best. The Supertwist is shinier, but it has an unfortunate pink in it.

So I’m partway through the stipple in the peacock FS thread. You’ll get to see it when it’s done. It’s a pretty big barnyard, but it’s shiny.

How Many Yellow birds Do You Need? Mathematics for Batch Quilting

If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you know that I’m into batch quilting. I do almost all of my embroideries as separate components which I apply to the quilt top. That gives me the freedom to design more organically and to change plans on a dime.

It also has its limits. I draw things for my embroideries. That doesn’t always mean they fit into the design at the end. Not to worry. There’s always another quilt, and there’s always a need for more bugs, birds, flowers, frogs, and anything else I end up batching.

Small batch elements are excellent for creating a visual path within the piece. They server as stepping stones between larger elements that help carry the eye through the piece. They need to be relatively small and bright to do that.

Bright is a flexible definition. In a blue stream, small copper-brown rocks are bright. A piece of lime yarn on a blue-green background is bright. It’s a matter of contrast. For the last three quilts, I’ve been fixated on small yellow birds. First I did ones in flight and then ones perched.

How many do I need? I ended up stitching another batch when I discovered the ones with blue tail feathers disappeared on the sunflower background. It turned into a pile.

But that’s good. I got the major elements settled on the piece and put the yellow birds in place to generate movement.

It can be bold or subtle. Simply aiming the birds so they’re interacting with each other or with the ladybugs I sprinkled in, creates a line of action within the work.

So how many do I need? I really don’t want to get half through the design and find I need to embroider another batch of birds. How many can I make before I’m bored? The only limit is my attention span.

I’ve finally figured out that it’s worth my trouble to trace out my patterns so I have them left over. I also flip them so I have them in two directions. I probably won’t use the same bird in the same quilt, but often they do look very different after they’re embroidered. It’s actually pretty much the same amount of time by way of setup to embroider 12 birds as 6. The stitching is its own time, but that cuts thread set up dramatically. I spend days doing just mushrooms, or frogs or yellow birds.

It’s changed how I work. It’s changed how I think. And it’s changed my output dramatically.

And then there are all of those wonderful leftovers. You can always use another ladybug or frog. For a small work, it can be the focus itself. There really isn’t any waste. Even if I get tired and stop within the process, I have a nice batch of almost finished bits I can use in the next creation.

How many yellow birds did I make? I believe around 20. I forgot to count. Some of them were orange, so does that count as yellow?

Now. Do I keep the worm?

For more information about batch quilting, see Batch Quilting: How Many Quilts Do You Have Unquilted?