George Learns a New Trick

My APQS George is a real workhorse. As I often say, he's my "other man." And yes, my husband is completely aware of our relationship; in fact, he encourages it! 

George and I have been together since 2008; and believe me, we've had our differences from time to time, and even our share of fights--these usually happen late at night when one or the both of us is tired. We've been through a lot, even a serious "medical" (mechanical) issue a few years back. But Susan, from Over the Top Quilting (the local APQS rep), fixed him up, and he was good a new again! 

And you know how these intensely passionate relationships go: at first it's all flowers and flirting, and then sometimes things sort of fizzle out. That's kind of how it was with the George and me.

Yes, in the beginning, it was love, Love, LOVE. With just a single touch of my fingertips, George would fly into action and together we would wrestle any quilting job we had into sublime submission. Ah... those days. Back when I thought quilts were just for beds and had to be large and cumbersome and that I needed a big man like the George to help me with 'em. 

But no more. Nope. Now I'm an art quilter. Oh, well, sometimes I still make a big quilt that needs a big boy on which to quilt it. But that's less and less often. And so George wasn't getting as much action as he used to (you know how it can be with long-term relationships, right?). And then, a couple years ago I bought Big Betty (my big Bernina). And Big Betty is pretty dang good at quilting my art-quilt-sized (wall) quilts. Betty was happy whether I used giant cones of thread or the smallest spools. I could even use a wound bobbin in the needle, and Betty took it. And I have loads and LOADS of  different colors of spools of thread and thread on bobbins. So more and more, I relied on Big Better.

Meanwhile, I had only used the giant (and costly) cone threads on the George because I was advised that he had these peculiar thread "preferences" and that only the high quality, spooled thread would work (unless I bought the spool attachment, that is, which I eventually did but I was never too happy with it). I believed I had been told about George. I believed that he was too rough to handle the more delicate threads. I thought he was a rough, tough guy whose brute strength required the more expensive threads.

So on the advice of all the experts, I began my collection of bland, but expensive, cones of thread. "Blenders" they call them. Off white, grays, tans, black, pale hues (bleh!). And sometimes I would even spring for a big honkin' cone of some bright or unusual color, use a few hundred yards of that thread on a quilt, then put the remaining 3000 or so yards of it in a drawer. What a flippin' waste of money!

NOTHING MOTIVATES LIKE DESPERATION (AND DEADLINES)
Well, gentle readers, yesterday--in the middle of a big art quilt project in which I was using many small spools of many colors of thread--I had to take Betty the Bernina in to the shop for service. It seems that Betty had choked on a big wad of bobbin threads that were stuck in some unmentionable place deep insider her innards and she was coughing them up all over the back of my beautiful art quilt (which had to be tediously removed, inch by inch). Of course the service center required that Big Betty stay with them at least a few overnights... so my only choice was to stop... or was it?

So back in the studio, in a moment of desperation, I did the unthinkable: I used a spool of thread on George. And I put that spool of thread where the cone of thread usually goes. Yup, I did! And, I might add, it was a spool of inexpensive, easily attainable (at JoAnn's, y'all) Coat's Brand thread. Just a plain old doggone spool of thread! Then, even crazier, I skipped the pre-wound bobbins and loaded my own (to match the top thread, of course). And you know what?

IT WORKED! 

Here's George now, lookin' all handsome and tough... and yet, in a way, so delicate and tender. Tender enough to use a spool of cheap thread.

Thanks for reading my blog, y'all. Hopefully, and with George's help, I'll be able post something about the finished art quilt soon.

Peace, love, and quilts everyone.

Just moments before I started writing this, I learned that my paper towel quilt, "This Day: The Strength Within" (see first blog post) did not get accepted in a statewide art competition. The juror gave no explanation for the declination, and I admit that the lack of explanation bothers me; but the rejection… meh… not so much. I've read a lot of articles lately about how hard it is for some artists to deal with rejection when an art piece they submit for an exhibit isn't accepted. But here's the thing: I have so much fun making my quilts, I'm not all that concerned about whether they get accepted into a show. I guess the only thing I can say I'm cranky about is that I'm out the entry fee.l

 

But here's the thing. The exhibit I entered was not a "quilt" or even "fiber art" exhibit; it was an "art exhibit." The entry did allow for "mixed media," so I entered my piece in that category (I mixed paper, ink, dye, paint, and quilting). I suspect my piece didn't make it in because it is not traditional art.

 

I bet that if I go to the exhibit, I'll see lots of paintings; probably paintings of birds that look just like birds or landscapes that look just like the landscape (not that there's anything wrong with that... but it does make me want to... you know... yawn.).   

So, that's about all I want to say about rejection On to the next piece! My peace sign quilt:
 

 

I haven't named this one yet. I'm thinking something like Peace, Man: A Nod to Andy, (as in Andy Warhol). This peace sign quilt is my first attempt at following Susan Carlson's instructions for making art quilts by gluing small bits to a base fabric on which the design is penciled in. I first saw Susan's work on the cover of a quilting magazine some years back: it was her pink rhinoceros. Then I saw her amazing piece called "Samuelasaurus Rex" at a quilt show. (It's a very large quilt and an image of her son—when he was little—on his tricycle, mouth wide open and his hands shaped like the claws of a dinosaur. I could almost hear him roar!) All value, with every color imaginable. Value (not color) did all the work. Wow!

Anyway, I bought her book a few years ago and read it pretty much cover to cover, and last year I finally made the top for this peace sign art quilt using her gluing method. Here are a few pictures of the peace signs in process.  

 

It was really fun, and I said I'd do another just like it; but for my second "Carlson-inspired" quilt I would pay more attention to value rather than color. But then I got busy with other things (paper towel quilts, among them) and didn’t do my value study, nor did I finish this peace sign quilt--for months. But… this quilt is going to be exhibited soon, so I had to get it finished. (As the saying goes, nothing motivates like a deadline).  

The cool thing about my latest quilt isn't the gluing technique, or the colors, or the fact that I actually used up some scraps. The thing I like most about this quilt is how the quilting looks on the back. I tried a new free-motion quilting design that sort of combines Zentangling with a quilting style that is inspired by something I saw in a quilting book by Karen McTavish.

 

Anyway, here's the back:

 

 

Finally, I finished the quilt with a full-turn binding. I love, Love, LOVE it when art quilters use a full-turn binding. I prefer it because it looks clean, it doesn't "stop" or interrupt the quilting with an unquilted (sometimes badly matched) piece of fabric, and (maybe most importantly) because it gives the piece more of a fine art look and less of a small bed quilt look. And, of course, this is just my personal preference. (Hey, it's my blog, so I get to state my preferences). It does not mean that I don’t like art quilts with a traditional (bed quilt) binding; I just like the full-turn binding better for quilts that are destined to hang on the wall. So, here's what I mean by a full turn.

 

And, yes, I purposefully switched the colors of the binding to pull the color from the front to the back, and to match the color of the thread on back.

Now look again at the front. No binding shows.

 

 

Finally, here's Lucy cat. She's my 11 year-old studio cat and she's been assisting me with all my sewing and crafting shenanigans since she was just a wee kitten. I found her in the parking lot of a nearby Hobby Lobby store one evening after the store had closed. I guess that since her life with me started near a craft store, it's fitting that she's a crafty cat.

 

 

Until next time, y'all!