Tag Archives: blue

perspective – not necessary, but good!

straight base translates as flat; roof line doesn’t match up with house

This white house emerged months ago as I pieced up muslin for what would become the “Red House”. I was immersed in barn raising at the time.

pin board

roofline better; perspective created with a single strip of blue floral slanting up from front corner to back corner

Two different green plaids are used in the roof. I think another piece is required to overhang that right rear facade.

real rooflines – earlier in season, many years ago

There are flash flood warnings here. My phone actually honked to tell me so. Based on the rain and wind, I would not have guessed there to be any danger (and maybe there isn’t).

Speaking of phones, when I took my failing-to-connect-to-the-internet iPhone to the Genius Bar, everything operated just perfectly. The ‘genius’ took notes (on his tablet, naturally), but I could tell he thought I was a technology-challenged moron (and maybe I am). However, I came home and all the same problems reasserted themselves. And I don’t see how it could be an issue with our router, because everyone else in this household is connecting to the internet just fine.

As maddening as these tech issues have been — for weeks now (Photoshop crashed twice while posting yesterday — one time recovering; one time not) — I really could use some perspective there as well.

What is the emotional equivalent of a blue strip of fabric lightly laid, just so, to make the line of the foundation travel back? What perspective would ease getting through a series of technology issues that show no sign of easy resolution and that undercut my ability to stay connected (and THERE’s the psychological metaphor for one of the mechanical failures — it’s always there).

“WALK AWAY FROM THE SCREEN, Dee” isn’t going to cut it for much longer. I should take Michelle’s comment from yesterday to heart: “Breathe”.

chugging along

7 Replies

Vacations (not mine), house cleaning, appointments, arranging college tours, two birthdays, SAT prep classes, allergic reactions (also not mine), snow, snow and more snow (and possibly MORE snow starting at midnight tonight). Through it all, virtually no blogging, but a fair amount of stitching.

This b-day card for my younger son started with the central rectangle, which had been zig-zagged together at some much earlier moment. The upholstery sample seemed a good base, picking up the check pattern of the ‘windowed’ linen. For the roof and background, I used cloth that had been immersed in the indigo tub last summer. Pairing almost anything with indigo-dyed cloth makes me happy these days, I don’t know why. Since D. is a Pisces, a bit of batiked fish seemed appropriate, and the cotton lawn in my scrap basket formed lovely, wrinkly moon and butterfly shapes when cut. The pink linen backing is from a tunic that I used to wear. This ‘card’ needed to carry a bit of me.

I was determined to keep the butterfly simple.

But, I could not resist adding ANOTHER backing cloth which adds a fair amount of additional graphic interest.

It is very nearly done – as are ‘cards’ for my older son (they were born two years, three days, and 15 minutes apart!) and for my husband (his is a Valentine). More on those soon!!

Bird Woman: Power in Completion

22 Replies

In these quiet weeks, I am finding it hard to come back to the screen. This screen, specifically. Is it because the space where my knees sit is freezing cold? (My hands are freezing right now, too) Or, because a pause midwinter makes sense from 1,000 perspectives? Or, maybe I have nothing to say (when has that stopped me before, you ask?!!).

An unexpected benefit to my neglect here, has been getting into a rhythm of finishing work. Ironically, I had signed up to do a spring show and was DREADING the prospect of spending a season ONLY finishing things, but the moment I decided (for a host of reasons) NOT to participate, the finishing seemed to want to happen. I have to ask myself: WHY am I capitalizing words as if I am writing an article about the THRILL of orgasm for COSMO?!! No. Seriously, what is my deal about finishing?

Once Upon a Time, Bird Woman was born. She emerged from scraps of embellished linen and pieces of a hideous 1970’s jacket, and some sequins that my cousin sent me at the time. I put a small island of Victorian sequined black silk below her feet (that came from a friend for my birthday one year). I made her wingtips look like flames, to make her a powerful bird. I blanket stitched a full moon over one wing and she got even more powerful. For her general environment, this creature was lucky enough to get one of the many woven cloths that I made during a Jude Hill class (it might be two combined, actually). Then she went into hiding again. I wondered where she was for awhile but I didn’t look for her. She resurfaced, got some more stitching, then disappeared again. I found her about two weeks ago, and now, apparently she is ready to be given a little more starry sky above her head, and some edges.

The blue silk frayed like mad. The NEXT time I used silk for a background, by the way, I ran a line of machine stitching along the side prone to giving off its threads. The lost cloth here created a bit of a challenge – but not too bad. Mostly, I was sorry to see so much of that Noxzema blue go. After trimming the batting off, I auditioned backgrounds, with the idea that I would put the whole thing onto another cloth.
I looked at these selections starting with upper left and going clockwise. The purple velvet was nice, but I liked the burnt orange of my slippers (just visible on the frame’s edges) better. The green and whites both fell completely flat. But, orange? Why, yes. It makes the Bird Woman sing! How can a single infusion of color do that?!! But it does. Orange makes Bird Woman sing!Here you can see how I applied some tiny seed stitches and “X’s” to approximate stars. The upper edge slanted precipitously downward, and since I was loathe to lose anymore of that rich, blue silk, I tucked a kind of corny cotton printed with a night sky. I will tuck something else on the left side to complete that edge.

This will be carefully stretched a bit before mounting onto its backing (which of course I had to piece because the orange swatch was not wide enough). Stay tuned for the finished piece!!

What is your style of finishing a piece? Do you run to it, with eager anticipation for the satisfaction of a job well-done? Or, do you resist? If you resist, how do you work with your resistance?

where the water goes

13 Replies

Today’s On Point radio program (with Tom Ashbrook) focused on how the lowered volume of the Mississippi River is forcing businesses to find alternatives to river travel…how the federal government can’t sufficiently address the problem even on the micro-level of funding a study… how water might become the precious commodity that oil currently is (on this point, one caller queried, “why else would Ted Turner be buying up 1,000’s upon 1,000’s of river front properties!!?”).

This quilt is called “Long Island Blues” because it was pieced while waiting to hear how friends and family on Long Island fared in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.

Because the quilt is more about rising water levels than about the destructive winds and tides of these increasingly common giant storms, the composition has a quietness to it. There is nothing quiet about what is happening, of course. We should, as a nation, be acting like those poor orcas trapped in the Hudson Bay, breathing out of a ridiculously small area of open water — arching, leaping, arching, leaping for air in pure panic. Instead, we are still trying to fend off those who say climate change isn’t real?! And still making excuses for the failure to SPEAK OF THE PROBLEM, because it is political poison?!

I can hardly think of a situation that could be more pervasively or profoundly demoralizing (oh yeah, which reminds me, I’ve committed to being more CHEERFUL in 2013).

My younger son had to write an essay about the ‘American Dream’ last week – what it is, how his relatives may have lived it, how he views the idea as it relates to him.

“… the American Dream is an illusion,” he started out. “It may have existed at one time, but it doesn’t anymore.”

Remember when scientists (I’m talking pre-Rachel Carson, or her contemporaries) thought that technology and innovation could solve anything? The generation of kids approaching adulthood are not afforded that optimism.

“Long Island Blues” before stitching

Perhaps it is setting myself up for failure to ask that I become more cheerful.

Perhaps it would be more realistic to figure out how to bring my heart and soul to the problem of global warming in a whole new way this year (and mightn’t that make me feel better? maybe not more cheerful, but more engaged, more useful…)

… posting lamentations online hardly counts as anything; making quilts of grief hardly counts as anything.

Have you made any commitments toward being less of a consumer this year? If so, what?

P.S. “Long Island Blues” features antique linens that were gifted to me, linen and silk that I was allowed to take from the scrap pile of an upholsterer (some of which I dunked in my indigo bucket this summer), a skirt that I bought at the warehouse that receives goods after they don’t sell at Salvation Army, a repurposed piece of a Tibetan Prayer flag, a shirt from Supersavers that also went into the indigo vat, three small chunks of quilting cotton bought at a fabric store, and lastly one piece of blue and white linen bought in the Fashion District of NYC about eight years ago (I still have a little more left!!)

A little something

7 Replies

A strangely unsatisfying weekend. Finally, I ordered a light box, but something stronger may be in order. This is a tough time of year for so many…

I will say what was great: walking in the Upper Field with Jack and K. Having dinner by the fire last night with a friend and her daughter, hearing stories about college. Rabe with garlic, braised carrots, and a tomato pie. Yum! Gathering (finally) materials for the class that will start on December 1 at the New Art Center. Finishing a few little things and moving a few other bigger things along. A new doll.

Look for the new doll later in the week. Tomorrow I’m going to Salem to take my sister out to shop for a turkey and to forage for wreath-making supplies in what she calls ‘the barrens’.

Pattern and Outrage : Dee Mallon

cloth, justice, writing, and food