sewing

A Day Off: What Do I Do When I Can’t Sew?

| ellenanneeddy

Usually, Saturday is the day I prep the blog. Sometimes I’m a bit ahead. This week I was not. And last night my leg went out.

So when the ice and rain hit today, Don declared a studio day off. I spent the day working on photos of the new quilts I’ve just finished. And I decided to make meringues.

I’m a good cook, even if I’m a bit heavy in the butter, cream, and beef department. I’m pretty good most of the time. But every year or so, I have a state-of-the-art disaster: the chainsaw chicken massacre, where I tried to bake stewing hens. Or the time I made black and blue cornbread. I was making blue cornbread and the thermostat on the oven broke. Or Treebark in the snow. I had a jelly roll disintegrate while I was trying to roll it. There was no hope for it. I glued it together with raspberry jam, covered it in powdered sugar and called it treebark in the snow. People still ask me for that. I don’t think it can be reproduced/

I wasn’t very mobile, but I thought I could arrange things well enough that it wouldn’t matter. I prepped the meringue, put it in a pipping bag, started to pipe little stars and watched as incredibly sticky meringue oozed out of the top of the bag on to everything on the table. My cutting board. All the spoons and forks. The spice rack. Don’s computer. I had made meringue glue. Very effective.

So here are the quilts I made earlier this week before I glued everything in my kitchen to the piping bag.

It wasn’t a complete fail. Don liked the meringues enough to lick the beaters.

You can see it’s easier if I’m just allowed to quilt.

My leg is better today and the ice is gone, so I’m off to the studio. These quilts will be up on the site shortly.

The Machine Kit: Right Where You Need It

| ellenanneeddy

I have a tendency to lose things. I have four million screwdrivers somewhere. That does not mean that I can find them when I need them. Samuel Delany said that the coathangers turned into paper clips, just when they were needed as coathangers. I believe that, sort of.

I also don’t organize well. I am ashamed that any time I move, I have 100 boxes that are full of the same mix of threads, machine feet, odd tools, and fabric bits. I’m working towards a better sense of that. I can’t find anything because everything is everything.

Most of my machines come with a space for accessories. That’s nice. Except that they have to fit in all the accessories. Which means they’re kind of big and quite clunky. And they don’t fit on my sewing tables. They also make a tremendous crash if they fall off the table due to the vibration when I sew.

So I tend to have kits for different tasks and for the machines I use for those tasks.

I’m obsessed with these tin pencil boxes from Dollar Tree. They come in different patterns so I know which one I need for each machine.

What is in the box? What I need to clean a machine and the feet I use for the tasks I do with that machine. So each box has oil and a good cleaning brush, Each box has fresh 90-topstitching needles, And an appropriate darning foot.

The tools are not the same. The old 930 and the 770 both take different non-standard screwdrivers. The 770 is prone to thread caught in the take-up lever, so I have a tool in the 770 box for slicing through=thread tangles.

I have a box for my 99 and 66 Singers. They are a short shank machine that needs a foot that is completely different from the Berninas. They’re a straight stitch machine so they aren’t set up for cord binding. I use them mostly as piecing machines.

But I use the other machines for corded binding, so there is a regular pressure foot and a Bernina #3 foot for buttonholes along with the darning foot.

Am I more organized? Bless me, I hope.

How can you be more organized?

  • Analyze the tasks you do in your studio
  • Gather the tools you use for those tasks
  • Find a container and space where you can keep those.

I’m not going to live long enough to sort through a bag of all the sewing machine feet I own to find the one I need every time I stitch. If I have a kit set for each machine, I’ve eliminated the time I waste hunting what I need.

Next organization:

I need a place to put in tools for each machine: pins, clips, scissors, bobbins, hemostat, the feet and tools I don’t use all the time but I want available. I have these already, although I’ve moved machines enough that they’ve taken on the quality of “this is where I dumped stuff.”

Then maybe we organize cutting room. If you haven’t seen me in a while I’ll be under the table, trying to find the floor.

Next stop, will I actually try Swedish Death Cleaning? Probably not.

Studio Rules for MEntal Hygiene

| ellenanneeddy

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

| ellenanneeddy

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

| ellenanneeddy

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.

Branching out: A Different Approach to Bird Nests

| ellenanneeddy

I’m never really satisfied with my drawing skills. Drawing is like writing. The only way to get better is to keep drawing. I cut better than I draw. Which sounds stupid until you look at the cuttings Mattise did at the end of his life. He couldn’t paint with his limitations, so he did cut outs instead. They are magnificent!

I don’t know that my cut outs work that well. But I am more confident with them for floral/tree ideas. So when I went to make a rosiated spoonbill nest (which is basically sticks), I cut out branches rather than try to draw them.

Of course, they’re flat before you stitch them. There’s about three colors of brown hand dye in them. But the stitching is the definition.

Usually, I build bark with my stitching. With this much going on, it’s hard to see, but I added a layer and savaged it to make bark that pealed and curved.

This time I went for something a bit different.

Laws puts out drawing how-to and journaling books that I really like.

Not only does it show you how to draw an object. It gives you a thousand ways to see what it looks like at a different angle or at a different point of view. And how and why it changes. I turn to these books to push myself to better drawing.

Lost in the Woods: Redeeming design Decisions

| ellenanneeddy

Every piece involves an endless number of choices. Sometimes I think it’s fun to share them with you. Creation is a journey best taken with friends.

I love the woods. I can’t walk in them anymore. I can’t walk anywhere far at any length. But I can make the woods for myself.

I’ve been working on a roseated spoonbill for some while. I chose a fabric that had that deep wood blue greens in it. With a big pink bird on it, I knew I was on the right track.

I considered what kinds of trees I wanted. I wanted a deep wet swamp. Pine trees would work for that. I made beautiful deep green branches on them.

I pinned up my gorgeous trees and watched them disappear into the background.

Back to redesign. That kind of redesign takes me a minute. I left it up on the wall a bit to think. Yesterday I dusted the tops of the branches with the brightest light greens I had in my threads.

They looked much better.

Then I put them up and photoed them. They looked great on the photo wall.

Odd things happen with photos. I usually take photos of what I’ve done at the end of the day as a record of my process. I give the photos to the owners when they purchase a quilt to invite them into my process. I don’t always remember what exactly I did, so it’s a good practice.

This time the photos deceived me. The trees looked way too bright. But when I came back to the studio, they looked so much better.

I’ve had another problem with this piece all along. I couldn’t get the head pointed the right way. I cut the head off so I could reposition it, but it’s still not right.

Yes, you can cut embroideries apart. After enough stitching, who would know? I do it whenever needed.

So I separated the neck and tucked it in at a stronger angle. It pleases me more. She looks like the birds have disturbed her but she’s in motion.

Do I know what I’m doing? Don’t be silly. I try things, put them on the wall and stare them down until I’m sure.

The tool that makes this all possible is my photo wall. If I don’t take the time to look at it, I really won’t know when it’s not right. Why?

Because I don’t want to take the time. I want to get done. That doesn’t always work. Two days looking at the piece is infinitely better than knowing forever I needed to move something over 1/2″. Or ripping it out.

If you don’t have a photo wall, you should. You’ll never know what you’ve got until you really look at it. For more information about building a photo wall, look up Studio Essentials: The Glory of the Photo Wall

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

| ellenanneeddy

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

| ellenanneeddy

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.