take me to the river--day 17

Always it seems I live by a river, Route 2 and the railroad tracks. Growing up our farm was along the Rock River. So many great memories of walking along that river and watching its many moods. As I grew up, I loved exploring the back water area we called the slough. In the spring the woods floor was covered with bouncing beds, trilliums and other wild flowers. Above there was a dense cover from the wild crab apple trees that bloomed so that it felt like I was dancing in a fairy land. I can still remember the hidden glens and the cow paths through the water swamp. In the distance there was the sound of the train whistle blowing its haunting promise.

Later in Boston, there was the Charles River that defined the city. An open definition of the moods of the city. Sometimes so peaceful and meditative. The cold walk across the Bridge on Mass Ave with its carefully marked and also slightly humorous Smoots. The hidden swamps to explore with cattails hiding the sky.

Now of course there is the studio. The train rushes by up the hill. Sometimes speeding by with the surge of energy. Sometimes slow and mighty. And the river. Each day it is different. It can be so still and calm. An infinity pool that defines the mountain. Other days it hurries over the dam in awesome inspiring statement of power.

Tomorrow is Second Saturday in Shelburne Falls--the latest reincarnation of RiverFest. There will be special events celebrating the river. The Bridge of Flowers is so full of color. And of course there is my studio and those of my new neighbors--Fair Maiden, Benjamin Dart Photography and Jenny New. If you get a chance, stroll down the River Walk and stop by. I hope to have one more framed quilt ready and will pull out some old favorites that would love a new home.

Meanwhile this is my quilt "rivers of autumn" which I made several years ago. How hard it was to create the colors--each a new statement of mystery.

rivers of autumn--45x45 in--quilt--Ann Brauer 2013--photo by John Polak

 

"Because"

I am so honored to have my quilt "prairie sunrise" in the show "Because" at the Motherbrook Galleries in Dedham, MA. If you are in the Boston area, I do hope you will get a chance to check it out. Thanks Iris.

prairie sunrise--Ann Brauer 2016--image by John Polak

It's a new day and a new year

It's a new day and a new year. I think there is a song that goes something like that. One of those ear worms that I can barely hear but I think is there. Finally though it is 2017.  Nuf said about 2016.

This is a blog about quilts after all. Now those who know me realize I am not great for setting goals or making lists. I don't do resolutions very well. Indeed I find that it just frustrates me since I can never live up to all my goals or resolutions. Instead I try to set out tasks. One task at a time. I get it done--or as done as it will be for now--and then move on.

One of the tasks that had been lurking over me for years has been a new web site. I loved my old web site--I could do it myself. It was simple to update and while it was not the most elegant web site out there, it had come to have a presence after so many years. Alas though Apple had quit supporting myself, it was not Google friendly and certainly did not work on Mobile devices. (Yes, I had had it for a l-o--n--g time.)

It takes time and energy though to update a web site. Sure I could have paid someone but let's face it--quilt makers don't earn a lot of money. Even if they have been in business for 35 years. At least I don't. I wanted to be able to update it when I needed to--not when I had the money and could hire someone to do it. And I had no clue what I wanted it to look like--even that takes time and energy.

So it sat on the back burner through the studio floating. The new studio. My new quilts. Until finally I could no longer do even the most simple updates. UGH!!!!

OK--time to take matters into my own hands and find a decent template system. One I could manage. That would be SEO friendly. And one where I could understand how to operate it. I tried first one template system. And tore my hair out. Then another that a friend had recommended--no dice. Finally I realized that I was thinking in the same language as WIX and opted for that. Now this is not an ad. Or even an endorsement. But for me it worked. It lets me add my Etsy shop which has been my saving grace throughout this whole experience. It even lets me add my blog post from blogger. I can do this.

So now--I can actually think about what I want to say in my blogs. And I do have a lot to say about inspiration and art. I haven't given my loyal readers input on the OOAK Show in December or my recent trip to Mass MoCA. (Now that was inspirational). I do have a lot of catching up with old friends and making new ones. New quilts to add to the web site. Work on it in my spare time.  And best of all I was able to bring over my old domain so it is still www.annbrauer.com.

Theoretically I can do this while preparing for the Baltimore Craft Show in February, the Paradise Marlboro Show in March, a wonderful gallery show of quilts I am honored to participate in this spring and of course the many events of the Shelburne Falls Business Association.

Which comes full circle to the concept that it is indeed a new day. Get the pun in the quilt.

Happy New Year. Together we will survive.

rolling hills--my view

Yesterday as I was sitting on my walkway doing some hand sewing, a passerby noted:
"It looks like you are where you want to be." How true that is.

The views from my new studio are so much more spectacular than I had remembered.
The mountain stands there benevolent and green protecting the river.

View from my Studio in Shelburne Falls, MA--Ann Brauer--2014

Upstream, the river winds into the green. And behind my sewing machine the windows promise more green and the chirping of birds. I spend far too much time just looking and absorbing my surroundings.

And of course I must make quilts.

I create a pile of fabric.

And start sewing.

I must capture this green. The gentle hills. The water flowing. The look.  The mood.

This quilt just comes together like it was made to happen.

No need to write much about it. The quilt speaks for itself, doesn't it?

rolling hills--summer days--Ann Brauer--12x39"--2014

detail of rolling hills--Ann Brauer 2014

And soon, the view will change. The clouds and mist will shroud the mountain. And probably I will need to make another quilt to commemorate the scene.

View from my studio--Shelburne Falls, MA--Ann Brauer

Yes the Grand Opening is this Saturday June 28 from 4-7 but I am open most days except Tuesday. I hope to see some of you there so you too can check out the view. See my new work. Celebrate. And for those who can't make it, there is my Good Night Irene sale on Etsy. http://www.etsy.com/shop/annbrauer

Wordless Wednesdays--colors of the ocean

Now for those of you who also follow me on Facebook, I did spend last week-end at the ocean. The wedding of a favorite niece and her husband.  The Cape to be precise. How glorious it was. I hadn't been there in years. Still much of it looked as I remembered. Sure our brakes failed on the Southeast Expressway--scary. Though it was not my car and nor my brakes.  I was not driving. They got fixed.   The power went off just as they were ready to lower the car down from the lift. But all of this is another story.

We got there in time. The couple glowed.  My brother-in-law looked happy and proud. I knew my sister-in-law would have approved.  And I got time by the ocean.  Time to absorb the colors. Not the ones that immediately come to my mind. The rich blues and teals. The vibrant greens. No, these were the subtler colors of the clouds and the sand. Light dancing in its own muted form. And yes, perhaps--well I should say probably--a quilt or two.

But first I must share these colors with you--and perhaps in sharing--learn even more. (And you thought I did these posts for you. Nope, I do them for myself.)

OK--this is supposed to be wordless. Or almost wordless.

So here is the ocean. Those horizons. Wonderful and haunting. Yes, just the hint of rain.

 Deep--almost sultry colors of mystery and promise.

Accented of course by the greens. Life itself. On the shore. There should be a poem here. So classic and pure.

I had forgotten the browns and tans of the sand. Again seemingly endless. Forever. The same but always varied. Don't you love the ripples left by the tide departing?

 

The random bits of weed and shells. Arranged with such lack of care until it is hard to crop because that inserts the person into the scene. Is this right or does it spoil it? Hard to say.

The bright sea tomato. An accent. A jewel. Just waiting to be discovered.

And the waves. The story that is there. Force against force. Constant. Eternal. Sometimes so subtle the sky reflects in the waves. Notice the colors. Oh yes, a quilt.

Sometimes with rocks. Another story. Another time.

And then there is a swimmer. Yes, this is a story. Words can be added. A feeling of endless and longing. A power and a statement.

And alas time to leave. So soon and yet so long. Such a feeling inside of completion and mystery. And for you. And the ocean. What is it? What is the meaning?

And how do you incorporate it into your art and your being?