Happy Quilt Top

Not too long ago someone asked me how I design a quilt. Like, how do you go from idea to finished quilt? For all that I talk about play and experimentation, my answer was a bit of a cliche. The truth is, I rarely design a quilt. Instead, I try an idea out and see if it works, see if it grabs me. If I like it, then I make a bunch of things My great pleasure comes when I am trying to make all those things look good together. That is also the greatest challenge. When the last seam is stitched 90% of the time I could never have predicted (designed) the quilt I ended up with.

This particular quilt, for instance, actually started with a sample block for a virtual class. The pinks were piled up, rejects from my Perimenpause Chronicle Quilt. So when a request came from a student for a particular make I grabbed what was on the top of the table. The block worked, I set it aside. And honestly? I didn’t think about it again for months. The next time I pulled it out for a class it never got put away. Then, back in May it popped into my line of sight and I decided to make a second block. It was with the third block that I realized I’d gone from an experiment to a quilt top.

So I just made my way through the pile of hand dyed fabric. First I used all the pink pinks. That didn’t get me very far so I used the more purply ones too. I don’t really like to make small quilts and I was then out of enough of the pink and purple fabrics so I dyed some more. They ended up a lot lighter and I debated trying again but decided to just make it work.

Another thing I had to make work was the background fabrics. Somewhere along the way I grabbed a different white than the one I started with. Because I was mostly working in the evening, under artificial light, I didn’t notice immediately. I had a choice to make - redo the blocks with the different white or keep going. Because I am kind of lazy I kept going. But what I did was embrace the differences and made the remaining blocks a mix of both whites. That way your eye wasn’t going to be drawn straight to the outlier.

The amount of pink fabric I had was going to make a 48” square quilt when all was said and done. Not too shabby, really. By this point though, this quilt - puttering on this quilt - was really helping my mental health so I decided I wasn’t ready to stop making. I spent a fair amount of time contemplating things on the design wall then decided on something akin to a border. In places the pink curves extend out beyond the centre square. Most of the outside is white, however. Rather than make it a solid white and have. bunch of weird piecing to accommodate those extra pink bits I made the border out of the same size 16 patch blocks as the centre. So really, the quilt top is basic patchwork of 576 4” squares.

We won’t talk about the backing debacle, but I am back on track to get this basted shortly. I plan on a mix of machine and hand quilting so I would like it ready for when the snow flies and we are indoors a bit more.

Jules, or my Arkison in Australia Quilt

Jules

85” x 66”

I’ve never been so sad to finish a quilt. Seriously, a few tears were shed.

This was an epic quilt making journey that started on my teaching trip to Australia back in 2016. I was demonstrating improv curves for some students and grabbed the first two interesting fabrics from the little shop onsite. Over the course of my trip I did a few more demos with that fabric, then collected fabric from both my students and a screen printing adventure. When I came home it made sense to me to keep playing with all those fabrics, like they were meant to be. I added a bit more from my stash and away I went.

Improv quilting can be a total free for all and work wonderfully, but it also works really well with guidelines or even limitations. In addition to my limited colour palette I restricted my improv components to a few key shapes/techniques: curves, diamonds, triangles, and little bits. It may sounds like a lot, but it actually isn’t. Not when it comes to improv.

I basically kept making components until I ran out of the fabrics, leaving a little behind to help me create a quilt top. I did not pay attention to size of the blocks when making or squaring up. When I felt finished making all the components I moved on to my favourite part - making them all play well together in the quilt top. Design wall play is the absolute best. It’s all about making it work as both a composition and simply to use up all the pieces.

And then she sat. And sat and sat. That’s just how things go in my world. I even had the backing fabric - gifts from Emma Jean Jansen, an Aussie designer and one of my students in Australia - but wasn’t ready to quilt her yet. The truth is that I knew how she deserved to be quilted and I wasn’t quite up for the challenge.

When I was asked to put together my show for the Heritage Park Quilter of Distinction display I knew I had to include this quilt. It was time to face the work.

My plan from the beginning was a combination of machine and hand stitching. And most of the machine stitching with would in the ditch. On a quilt like this that meant a lot, a lot of starts and stops. Which also means a lot of burying threads. Nothing like taking on this much work on a deadline! Did I mention the hand quilted elements too?

The bulk of the handwork was finished on an epic road trip we took in May. At least, the parts not done in front of the TV while I ignored the world. It even required a stop at a quilt store in Kelowna and I was very sad I did not have time to shop for anything other than a tool to help me bury my threads. There is at least 20 hours of handwork in her. She is full of my love.

Sure, it was a lot of work and every single stitch was worth it. The quilt came out exactly how I wanted it to, how I envisioned her.

The machine quilting was all done in a pale blue thread from my stash. It might have been a Presencia 100% cotton collected years before the quilt even started. The hand quilted touches were all done with Wonderful Perle cotton, in a couple of different blues and yellows. This included stitching down the binding, on the front, with big blue stitches.

I won’t lie, I was also intimidated by doing that much handstitching, even though it was my own idea. But thankfully, quilting an entire quilt for Morning Make last year built my confidence and comfort.

Did I mention there were a few tears when she was finished? That trip to Australia was formative for me. It was her furthest and longest I’ve been gone from home. I developed and delivered multi day workshops which were an absolute dream. The people I met were incredible and I am still in touch with many of them. This quilt also defined one of my favourite ways to make a quilt - by playing.

She is named for Jules. Jules McMahon was the woman who brought me to Australia. We knew each other online and had met at the early QuiltCons. But that trip solidified a friendship through road trips, sweets exchanges, late nights with wine, creative bonding, gluten free Chinese food, exploring for Lyre Birds, a love of circles, and one chilly ocean swim. We have similar levels of insanity and drive and I am grateful to her for the trip to Australia, yes, but also for continued friendship and inspiration.

April Morning Make 2022

April was an exploration of light, more than anything. Indeed, I’ve never paid this much attention to light, shadow, and sunshine before. It was an excellent practice in paying attention, in noticing.

Cyanotype is a form of light exposure, like photo developing. You use chemicals on paper, fabric, or anything that can be coated (I saw someone do rocks and I want to try that!) It requires the interaction of the two chemicals: potassium ferricyanide and ferric ammonium citrate. You only really need to know that you need equal parts of each and to mix them together right before using. I picked up the set from my local art supply store.

For the first half of the month I mixed the chemicals at night, painted the paper, and let them dry in a dark bathroom. Light exposure starts the process of creating the print, hence the windowless bathroom. For the second half of the month I played with wet exposure, meaning you paint the paper with the just mixed chemicals and go straight to the creation of the print. In the end, I couldn’t really tell the difference from the results.

To create the print you place an object on the treated paper and let light do its thing. Where the object is placed and in its shadow the outline remains while the rest of the paper gets exposed. Essentially, you are creating a negative image.

Where things get both exciting and frustrating is with the shadows. Not that sunny? An object with diffuse edges? You get a ‘blurrier’ print. Very sunny? You get shadows. Depending on the time of day and the level of sunniness, you can get very sharp images or long shadows. I found the exploration of these differences fascinating and learned to exploit them to create different things. Seeing as this is morning make and it was April in a northern location, I had a lot of shadows to play with and sometimes not a lot of light. It means I will probably play a bit more in the peak of a summer’s day.

The other act of noticing this month was in looking for things to use to create the print. You see a lot of cyanotype prints exploring shape through living objects like plants and flowers. It was April in Calgary, not a lot of greenery! But weeds, grasses, and last year’s living plants provided fascinating textures to use. Going for walks I found myself nothing plants and sticks in new ways, or even discovering new to me plants. I never picked anything living and cut dead things, leaving roots in tact in case it was a perennial. I also explored the house for objects, using kitchen tools, jewelry, games, even garbage. If it can create a shadow it can create an exposure.

Each day I made 2 prints, so ended up the month with a lot of prints, some definitely better than others. Here are four of my favourites. From top left, in clockwise order. A necklace from Elinor Stenroos on dry. Shadows from slurpee cup and jar lids on dry. Cheerios on wet. Thistle on wet.

Some days I got the real dark, indigo blue colour typically associated with cyanotype, others it was quite pale. To be honest, I never really figured out what created the difference. it always felt like I was putting the same amount of the chemicals on the sheet. I suspect my proportions of the two agents varied, but I don’t really know. Length of exposure varied too, depending on the light conditions that day. I don’t think that effects the colour though, as I exposed almost all to the same colour before washing. (The chemicals look pale green when they go on then change colour as the exposure happens, usually showing done when a bronze or dark green.)

Yes, you can do this on fabric and that probably made a lot of sense for me, a quilter. However, I wanted to try the paper and besides, it’s not like I needed more fabric! That being said, I also don’t need 60, mostly mediocre, cyanotype prints. So I got a notion for a secondary art project.

I need to test my assembly idea for these but if it works, I think it could be pretty cool. And it just might get by the ‘no quilts on the wall’ rule in the house!

At the end of the month I have to say this was a lovely exploration. I admit to being intimidated by the chemicals and the idea of it at the beginning. What foolishness! It is actually really easy, I felt totally safe mixing the agents together, and it was an adventure to see what could happen. Sure, things didn’t always work and I’m still on the low end of the learning curve but it was a low stress experiment. The anticipation each morning of what could happen was a great way to start the day. Pure creative optimism.

PS. I saved a highlight of the process - start to finish - on Instagram.

Hermia

Hermia

72: x 65”

Not known for her stature, Hermia is known for her passion. Her Shakespearian namesake was an apt inspiration. She is always willing to engage in a debate and will fight fearlessly for the rights of all. She’s marched, written letters, educated quietly, and interrupted when necessary. Perhaps her size makes her less intimidating? Or is it that she is ignored, assumed to be worth ignoring. Never make that mistake.

These particular curves started in a Small Piecing workshop with Chawne Kimber. I wanted to see how small I could go. It turns out that ¾” curves are the answer to that question. Chawne encouraged her students to try for smaller and smaller, as well as gave tips for managing the size. Once I started I couldn’t stop! The quilt is the size it is more because I ran out of a number of the fabrics but I was tempted to make it bigger. Small pieces + big quilts = heaven!

Improv curves are a comfort block for me, something to feel good sewing when I am not sure what to sew or need the joy in the act of sewing. Curves are always the answer. Truth be told, I was sad to finish this quilt. It gave me such joy to work on it. The quilt is great! But this is one of those times when process wins over product.

I had a few ways to go with quilting. No matter what, I knew it would be easiest choosing an all over design. I also chose to do straight line quilting with my walking foot to manage any potential headaches with all those seam bumps! Essentially, I quilted her twice. In one direction in various blue threads. Why various? well, I had a whole bunch of more than half empty spools so decided to use them up. Then I did the same thing in the opposite direction with yellow.

My original plan for binding was to use the black and white print I used in bits on the front. This is one of the prints from my one and only fabric collection. In the end, though, it felt too busy as binding here so I swapped it for the Famous Last Words print. Perfect!

It took the motivation of my first solo quilt show at Heritage Park to finish this one. Otherwise, I might have kept making curves. Once I found my fabric, of course.