I think I am finished with these. Made quite a few over the years. Sold most of them. There was a formula here that was calming, teachable, and they made terrific use of tiny “precious bits” of fabric. But, no more! Even if I find a half finished strip in my studio, I may let it go.
What a concept – letting go… not just of an activity, but maybe also of the compulsion to finish a thing begun.
My flickr site features some of these creations: Felt and Denim Huts and more general house-themed work here: Houses & Roofs.
Here are a few older ones.




The “Purple Moon” at top is for sale. $150. I will list it on etsy by weekend’s end, or you can email me if interested.
Tag Archives: finishing
trued, aligned, pressed
Technical jargon offers specificity. Like any vocabulary, it often resonates with multiple meanings, meanings that don’t have much to do with the task at hand. Every time I ‘true’ a quilt top, for instance, the other senses of that word ‘true’ are present.

Aligning a design’s intended sight lines brings deep satisfaction – perhaps satisfaction that is very tied to the processes of ‘aligning’ and ‘righting’. Maybe the more we recognize how much of life is beyond our control, the more satisfaction these miniscule attempts at order are (enough said! enough said!).
The final six or seven seams of a mid-sized or large pieced quilt top require more precision than comes naturally to me. Since I know what the pay off is here (for pinning, for cutting straight lines, for re-working the crooked), I settle into a slightly different rhythm and mindset. In other words, I don’t mind.
‘Re-working the crooked’. There it is again! Language that describes both the inner and the outer. If I had to describe one inner crooked line that could use some re-working? That strange belief that holds one person can change or fix another.
Barn II. The final six seams of the quilt top were machine-stitched and the seams pressed, on Monday. I won’t go into what yesterday entailed. On to quilting!!!
hunkered down
The snow started in a light flurry. Big flakes, so it must have been warm. I ran to the store because although I don’t get into that pre-storm shopping frenzy that empties shelves and renders lots a tangle, it seemed like a good idea. Everybody must have shopped yesterday, because it was a ghost town. The snow has come down steadily all day, but only a few inches have accumulated.
Our local schools were closed. My husband’s office was closed. And the T stopped running two hours ago. It seems a little over-reactive, but then, you just don’t know with these big storms anymore. And anyway, I understand the bulk of the storm is due to arrive tonight.
Here are my plaster friends before I went to the market.
Here they are midday. I could see them from where I was pressing seams.
And here they are in the gloaming.
Progress is being made (that is, “I am making progress”) on the second barn quilt.
The rooflines have been tricky.
And scale matters so much.
The FIRST barn, dubbed, finally, “Blue Hills Barn”, is hanging at the B.J. Spoke Gallery in Huntington, NY, thanks to my cousin, Ginny.
I had to scurry on Monday to get it trued, bound, signed, sleeved, and photographed. 
I include the above picture for scale, and also to note that if it doesn’t sell, I won’t mind having it back to hang exactly here.
And finally, what a good day it was for homemade chicken soup (is there EVER a day that is not good for homemade chicken soup?!)
Stay warm all you readers under the same Arctic air!
Bird Woman: Power in Completion
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?
two-sided postcard quilts
When BOTH sides of a piece warrant viewing, here’s one way to create a hanger – if you have used wool felt. The same treatment could be adapted to employ a rivet or a button for a more traditional, three-layer cloth quilt.
Who doesn’t love wool felt? Especially slightly THICK wool felt? I could use an awl to poke a hole, confident that the hole would not enlarge. This allowed me to create a simple, single crochet hanger, right into the quilt.
Waxed linen offers the nice benefit of being a cohesive thread… here, the snipped-off end can be twisted once or twice around existing strand and MASHED into pretty permanent place. No need for clear nail polish, or fray off, or to worry about unthreading.
Here, a little clock gear serves as a doorknob.
These stitched landscapes were appealing on the ‘wrong sides’, which is part of why I wanted a ‘side neutral’ hanger – so both sides can readily be viewed with a flick of the wrist.
When I stitched the grey one, a piece of fabric got caught in the threads and I decided to cover it with a moon and add a window, being conscious of where my hand stitches would land on the other side. Here are both the purple and grey felt postcards, with fronts and backs:
And the other:
So, when the ‘wrong side’ is worth showing, consider a hanging method that can flip from side to side.
One wedding commission that I made ended up sandwiched between two pieces of glass and hung where both sides could be seen. I don’t love putting fabric under glass, but I thought that was a great idea on their part.
Has anyone else found that they love the wrong side of their fiber creation? Or found another way to showcase both sides with a hanging method different from this?











