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

Dancing in the Light This ladybug is done in Bobbin Work in #8 hand dyed pearl cotton and # 8 metallic thread.

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 other?

How do you do the bblack 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.

Sidewalk Conversation How do I make concrete?

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.

Here my ladybug is cut from oriental brocade, fused with Steam a Seam 2; and free motion embroidered with #40 poly thread. But I hadn’t tried placing it directly on Angelina film.

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?

How does one gracefully leave your leaf chair?

Do I find repetition boring? NO! I find repetition changes 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.

Color Theory: The Tug Across the Wheel

Knowing the definition of a word is a pinpoint on a map. It tells you where you are. It doesn’t tell you how to get where you want to go. It’s the rawest of beginnings.

In the same way, color theory feels like the the dreariest driest subject in the catalog of art education. We look at the wheel and say the canticle, red and blue make purple, red and yellow make orange…. It feels like a recitation from kindergarten. And sadder still, it’s not always true. We’ve all mixed yellow and blue to get the most grizzly browns. It feels like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. A nice story for children.

Part of what we’re missing with that is the reality that it’s a theory. It works, simply when it does work and when it doesn’t, we need to explore why. That’s mostly about imperfect color. Color me surprised. So many things are imperfect in a imperfect world.

But the real question is not where we are on the map but where can we go. What color theory really describes is the relationships between colors. Within the color wheel, the spots within that wheel define the same kinds of relationships between different colors. Those relationships go back to that primary list of monochromatic, complementary, and analogous color themes that seem so very dull. Because they define the tension between colors.

The distance between colors, creates the pull across the wheel. The closer they are to each other, the least pull. The least tension. The least excitement.

The farthest distance any color combination has is directly across from each other, as complements. Those are combinations that tug and pull and electrify us. Colors right on top of each other are smooth and slide into each other.

It’s not one combination. It’s a circle of combinations that create the same feeling. We can move the circle endlessly and get the same energetic result.

Daylily ?Dance

Daylily Dance goes all around the color circle with neutral gray blocks as an inner/outer framework. The relationship of each complementary pair, kicks it over the moon color wise.

How does that change in thread in stead of fabric? Fabric is macro. It’s large strokes of color. Thread gives us micro choices. But the relationships on the color wheel stay stable and chart our color choices. We know from where the colors are on the wheel, how they will make our art feel.

New Year Directions: Sometimes God Just Kicks Your But. Punchline: I’ve Just Been Given A Studio

719 Lady Mantis

You haven’t heard much from me as a  quilter lately. I really try to subscribe to a no whine policy online. Everyone has their hard days, their dry times, their desert experiences. I’m not sure it’s better to be public about it.  Misery is not lighter for sharing it. It’s more like  lightly smearing a huge spill with a paper towel so it covers a larger space.Over the last four years, my major occupations have been negotiating two knee surgeries and figuring out dinner for two.

The surgeries are over. My rehab continues, but that’s life long. I would say I was on my knees grateful, but I can’t get on my knees. So I’m standing grateful and that’s a lot.

Collage gone amuck.

I’ve been wondering where my art has gone in that time. We never stop being artists. It’s a birthright in our genome, not a gift. But it is a practiced and oiled skill. I’ve worked on digital collage,  bizarre crochet, tatting and book design. All things that don’t require walking.  But would I go back to quilting? I wasn’t sure. I’ve moved a 2 car 2 level studio into 1 room and found I couldn’t find my own ass, never mind the thread and fabric I bought yesterday.

 

 

So I was blasted out of my chair when Don asked me if I would like a studio? Would I like a studio? Do I need to breathe? Still trying to figure out how to do that after he offered me his old house, a perfect small house, for studio space.

Now if God picks you up and puts you in a new work space, what do you say? What can you say other than to mutter “Thank you” over and over and over until you fall over. And then start to pack. God kicked my but. All of my buts are irrelevant.

The new studio is in Galesburg on Seminary Street. We’re shoveling it out as we speak.

Of course I’m going to need some help. Not just moving but sorting and organizing and packing and unpacking. So for anyone who lives near by, or who fancies a visit and would like to run their hands through a lot of fabric, I NEED SOME HELP! I can’t pay back in money, but I will offer studio privilege and private study for anyone willing to help me. I’ll match you time for time for your assistance. If you can offer a teenager who can lift and carry, I’ll feed them pizza till their eyes bug out and offer you studio privilege and private study, your choice.  I’ll also offer some stash raiding (and I have a wild stash).

I don’t intend to teach in the studio in general. Or set up a store in any way. I will be dyeing fabric and I will sell it, but not in a venued way. What I hope for is a space for my work that I can share with people at will.

Current studio. One room is not enough.

I’m going back down the rabbit hole and stuff things in boxes. If you can come visit, or lend support call me at 219-617-2021.  Or email me at ellenanneeddy@gmail.com. I’ll be somewhere under the table but I can still find the phone.