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.
Graduation, first farm share, PT and acupuncture for joint pain, squaring myself away as PCA for my sister, gardening, last writing class til the fall, a fun visit to The Danforth Art Museum with cousin Ginny, and then the usuals. Right now I am making killer enchiladas. Finished a quilt. Attributions, links, later.
Please notice that I am not ranting. I am not. Even though the tree and fence above could be a visual for me and our technology problems of late. Think: “Upgrade”.
The Black Screen of Death, which was not the Black Screen of Death really, but more like a Coma Interlude, occurred multiple times yesterday. Eventually the system restored itself each time, but not without freaking me out. “Walk away from the screen, Ma’am! Walk AWAY from the screen!” What choice did I have? Days of not posting here or for my online class have me feeling a tad crazed. And now the taxes are REALLY, really due.
The good news? Scary glitches and slow processing are making learning a few simple tricks on the new Photoshop Elements seem like a piece of cake. And more good news: I managed to finish Schedule C this morning in spite of it all.
Back to quilting. Less screen time invariably means more sewing, which is also good news, I might add. Continuing with white, white, white for the Jude Hill class I’m taking over at Spirit Cloth has been productive. Interesting. Lots of white to share. But not now. I took a small intermission from white to construct the little row of houses below.
The formulaic nature of this design means they are relaxing to make. And yet, each set is different enough from every other to stay interesting.
The tiniest chips of fabric can be employed for this project (“Oh-oh!” you say with dismay. “You mean I can’t throw them out?!!”)
This drawing came after the cloth construction. It gave me this fun idea of a multitude of paths running to and from the doors.
The original impulse for ground and sky fabrics lies just above the drawing, and here is where I want to suggest that this project — though full of pink, blue, rose, lavender, rust, and indigo — bears a relationship to white. If you can stand to — keep reading!
The ground is that wool challis I’ve talked about before. The sky is a piece of a vintage silk from a deconstructed handmade bodice. The colors worked and they were the very first I chose. They were the INITIAL IMPULSE. The circuitous route back to the original choice got me thinking about white as a process or a state of mind. Specifically, about white as pure expression.
I fiddled. A Lonni Rossi broccoli fabric had potential but was rejected for being too literal and for adding visual clutter.
This shibori sky, suggestive of aurora borealis, was also too much. Stars, also too literal.
This started the return back to the original choice.
Here, I shrunk the scale and added a moon. The moon stayed, but the scale was revised back to original premise.
Here I am back to the original sky, only now with the moon, and a much too busy foreground. Departing miles from the original feel, it looked like I was trying way too hard and furthermore, the woven-strip foreground would have prevented stitching all those paths, and they intrigue me.
Now, almost there.
So, what if “WHITE” is purity? What if ‘white’ is an original impulse? The original set of colors? The original thought? I’m not suggesting that refining ideas and radically departing from an initial idea are not essential and exciting ways to create. I AM suggesting that there may be times when sticking with that First Thought (in this case a pairing of challis and silk) might be just right. A way to honor an intuitive and spontaneous creation.
I love the glow of light along the roof lines and the cheery rectangles of warmth coming from my neighbors’ houses. In 2013 I plan to construct fabric houses that more nearly represent the houses in my neck of the woods. And, speaking of houses, anyone who knows my work will guess why I was drawn to this wine – thereby confirming something recently heard on television – and that is, that labeling greatly influences wine purchases.Cleaning up to host the wine-related event, I found this little guy. I think I was checking the bobbin tension on my machine, and reading Lynda Barry at the time. The reverse side captures how I sometimes feel this time of year, hoping I am remembering everything I need to remember.
The spring light flooded our family room late this afternoon. I don’t remember it ever being lit up like this before. By the time I got my camera out, it was the shadows that interested me, so I haven’t captured the golden warm moment at all, really. I share the photo of our kitchen TV and dinner clutter only because it DOES capture the light a bit better.
When I look at this picture and I don’t think, “Gee, cool, there I am in the reflection.” No, I think, “Why was that light on?!”
Soon, our neighbor’s 200 year old copper beech will leaf out, and the light will be dappled and less intense (and that’s nice too).
With the poppy pillow commission finished, I can finally get back to my big-big quilt.
Recycled shirts and tiny pieces of Most Favored Fabrics (like a trading status!) are turning into huts and villages, here and there.
I took so much time to piece these big sections, that it would be a shame if I hid all the evidence of that work (i.e., the SEAMS), but that is the temptation right now…
That blue spade fabric (a roof of rain?) is cotton that K. brought back from India last month. It was hard to cut, because it was such soft cotton, but cut I did. It is one of many fabrics that translates into “RAIN” in this piece.