textiles

A Very Buggy New Year: Streamlining Quilting with Component Techniques

| ellenanneeddy

Component quilting lets me streamline my quilting. I have two quilts I’m working on that will need some bugs. Why?

Both of these pieces are going to need some help building a pathway. Bugs are a great way to do that. They flitter across the surface and they create movement. But these need a significant number of bugs. It’s just easier to make a batch. I think ended up making 35 in all.

I did damsel flies, moths, and small white butterflies for the frog/turtle quilt.

For the bluebird quilt, I wanted larger white butterflies.

This batch of bugs was a color lesson for me. Normally I ignore gold and silver thread. When there’s purple and green metallic thread, why would I use gold or silver.

All of the bug bodies are from Madeira FS2/20 thread. The black core thread really looks like beading up close.

I tried the opalescent white as a butterfly wing. I was underwhelmed. I really don’t like the pink quality.

I needed the white that silver brings. I tried going over it with silver afterwards. It was not improved.

Opalescent white under silver does a nice bright white. For those birds, nothing else will do.

I wanted a softer quality for the moths and the swamp. So they were done from polyester threads.

For the damselle flies I needed a solid carapace and see-through wings. The iridescent thread did the wings nicely, even with the pink cast.

Different threads offer really big differences in the result. In this case, it keeps the bugs separate from each other and from the other elements in the quilt.

Size is a limit with component quilting. Things under an inch and a half are hard to keep crisp and have too heavy an outline when they’re applied. But for most elements, it allows me to choose where to put what. Choice is good.

From Patterns to Art: My Quilt Projects From 2024

| ellenanneeddy

It’s that time of year, when I look at the pile of quilts at my feet and review what I did last year. I made 46 quilts this year, large and small.

Because of health issues, I haven’t pursued shows right now. My heart doctors say things are staying stable, and I have enough work to promise a show, so I will be doing that in 2025.

How does an upcoming show affect work? It means the niggly questions get put to the side. You produce as much as you can. So you don’t do things you need to ponder about for a while. No big experiments.

Since I wasn’t prepping a show, this was the year for those niggly questions. All kinds of experiments.

Waterfalls

I figured out how to make a waterfalls frp, organza and lace.

Pine Trees

I worked out a new way to make pine trees from cheesecloth.

Desert landscapes

I worked on deserts, sand and cactus.

Cloud Shapes

I studied clouds.

Sunflowers

And sunflowers.

Yellow Birds

I had a desperate need for small yellow birds.

Major Quilts

Here are the large quilts I finished.

Visual Paths

Here are the visual paths I made.

small work

Here are the little quilts

It’s easy to feel like I’d done less this year. I have had years where I produced more. But I’m pleased with the questions I solved, the skills I built and the creatures new in my world. The quilts are really just a by product.

Most of these quilts are available for sale on my web and Etsy site. The Etsy sale is over, but you can always make an offer on a quilt, if it’s a bit out of range. And if you have work of mine, you can always trade up. Those of you who have quilts of mine are family, because you house my children. You always can have the family discount.

My Etsy Shop

Ellen’s Etsy Shop

Art Jokes: Is that Really Funny?

| ellenanneeddy

I have been known every so often, to make an art joke. Not a play on artists’ names or a verbal exchange. Every so often, I take a fairly well known piece of art and place its content within the artmostphire where I live.

The new roseated spoonbill quilt is named Pinkie, after the Gainsborough Pinkie

Why? Partially because it amuses me. I see most people as animals, not in a negative way, but in the sense that we live as animals do in a flesh-and-blood world. I embroidered my pinkie as a roseated spoonbill in her wild coastal setting.

Does it change the value of my Pinkie, to know that about her? May be. It’s nice to know where things come from.

But like all good art, it changes how we think. My Pinkie is a lovely creature, looking formidable and wild and yet fragile where she is. The girl, Sarah Moulton (1783–1795), is just as formidable. Her ribbons were thrown to the wind, but I get the feeling she could make her commands known and obeyed. Basically, your standard teenager. For all that, her father deserted her and she ended up in school in England where she died of a cough when she was twelve.

My point is that neither beauty or poise keep us safe in this world. It’s an odd mix of good luck and strongminded will that keeps us going,

I know. It’s not funny. But in the tradition of court jesters everywhere, the point is to make us think differently. I’m short enough. I might as well apply for the job.

I also did this with Matisses The Dance.

In Reflection: Creating an Image Reflected in Water

| ellenanneeddy

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

| 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.

Romantic Roses: Valentine’s Day for the Somewhat Grown Up

| ellenanneeddy

Do you remember Valentine’s Day as a kid?

I loved it. My mother made me a red and white dress for the day, and you brought valentines for everyone, and then you filled their mail box with them and found your own filled.

I was not much of a social butterfly. And I’m not sure I would have gotten any valentines if everyone didn’t send them to everyone.

But most of all, I loved all that color in the middle of the snow. Red, pink, and orange warm my heart whatever the temperature. Add a dash of purple. I could get drunk on it.

Valentine’s day is sort of a bust for a number of reasons around here. Mostly, Don doesn’t do holidays. And if either of us really wants something, we just go buy it. But I still get off on the colors.

Don takes me for a color bath every fall. He drives me around the stately homes of Galesburg and I gasp at the amazing leaves. This time, I happened to look down at the red roses beneath the trees. Absolutely breathtaking. Red, orange, pink. I might as well be drunk. So I started with a batch of red roses. I’d been wanting to do a garden quilt.

I have several ways I make roses, but my favorite is with spirals.

After cutting spirals, I glue them to felt. The felt is red because the color will show through. That’s a promise.

Once they’re all stitched, you can see the form better from the back.

Here’s how they look cut out.

I intend a sunflower and some hollyhock for this quilt as well. Yellow birds as an accent.

This is just pinned up and the leaves for the roses and the hollyhocks aren’t finished yet. But I’m excited. With all those fall leaves falling, we’ll need a garden in bloom. It’s just like Valentine’s day.

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.