Once upon a time I stitched up a bunch of abstract squares. They were covered in black nylon tulle, because that was a thing I did early on, and they were close enough in size to potholders to have an unshakeable resemblance to them. In other words, I soon hated them.
What does a quilter do? Cut them up, of course.
The row houses above came from one such “potholder.” A series is born, I thought.
Two problems. One, I can’t at the moment find the rest of the potholders. Two, the simple selection of ground, sky, and moon rather instantly became more complicated.
Because I let it, I know.
No worries! I’ve found other rectangles to cut up. Also, the way I allow various permutations to have a say is endlessly interesting to me.
The detours don’t help finishing a series (or to be honest, perhaps prevent even beginning one). But there you have it. This is who I am.
Any previously-worked square cut carefully enough ought to yield two rows of houses.
Back tomorrow!
I always smile when I see your houses..
I’m glad!!
Love the last, bottom image. tiny houses. your wheelhouse? I think.
Could be. Could be. I certainly keep returning to them
I’ve never been too wild about ‘row houses’…but, I sure like yours!
I’ve never lived in a row house, have you? More of a creature of the suburbs.
Love the first and last images of the string of fantastic houses…..
Well, I love all of this post……
I very much like seeing how you complicate things … your constructions are always so much “more” than I could ever imagine doing myself
I like the first image so much. I remember the tulle thing when it was a popular technique. There was not a lot of information sharing about it at the time – the point of doing it to subdue or blend the colors I guessed. The yellow pin heads here and there look like design elements.
I learned the technique from Susan Carlson. She also used glue (ick!) to anchor cloth before spreading the tulle. It blends colors, yes, but also allows ease of machine quilting without snagging the edges of cloth.
The pins. They show up. Often in double images — there they are.