it's always something

Just when I thought I had my Etsy shop organized and humming along getting ready for the holidays (yes, I do think ahead or at least I try to) Etsy comes along and makes a change. Instead of the five photos that I am accustomed to, I can now show my buyers TEN!!!!  I am sure they did it with the best of reasons. After all, the buyer can't really see the item except in the listing and so the buyer probably does want more information. At least that is their rationalization.

But TEN!!! images. What can I show? I have realized that I don't have any more of these wonderful green place mats. If I don't have them, it must be because they are popular so I make more. They are a wonderful color, aren't they?  Front. Back. Two placemats. Placemats with a plate. For me these are standard.

two green placemats--Ann Brauer 2017

I read the helpful tips. OK--maybe buyers want to see the inside of my studio. That works. I love my studio. I can also show them the outside. After all, it is a wonderful shade of green itself. That also works. Now if I had a nice table I could set it and show the mats in use but the truth is that I don't yet. So I read more suggestions. A work in progress. I do hand stitch the bindings. I can show that. Maybe next time I can show another detail of the construction. Who knows.

green placemats--Ann Brauer 2017

Customers do like to mix and match. That would be a nice image. Let them see what else they could order. Maybe I should do more of these pictures. That could be fun.

two green placemats--Ann Brauer 2017

But for now that will have to do. After all, I also need to make some more placemats. This time I think I will try burgundy. Another  color I don't have. They will look good with the green. I will have to see what other sellers are doing for images. More to think about. More to learn. It is after all, always something, isn't it? If you want to see my finished listing, it is here. https://www.etsy.com/listing/542491075/quilted-green-placemats-washable-table?ref=shop_home_active_1

What images would you add? I do welcome suggestions.

visions--day 21

Interesting how place can affect the quilts that I make. When I lost my studio, I was fortunate enough to find a space I could rent across the river. It too had large windows and high ceilings. There was a charm about the building. However the view was different. This time when I looked out the window I saw the geometry of the Iron Bridge. Beautiful in its own right but splitting the sky into brief snippets of blue. The train whistle was more distant but I could see the might as the gate came down and it roared through town.

My life too was different. I could see the hole where my studio had been.  I could feel its absence every day. And yet in order to go on, I needed to divide my life into sections just like the Iron Bridge did. I needed the calm certainty of sewing and creating. One seam after the other. What more could I learn from the log cabin pattern? How much further could I push it? The "hearth" or center of the block offering a hope against the lines of the steps. Methodical meditative work.

Am I over-writing this description? Probably. But that was the origin of my quilt--visions. Yes, it was quilt as you go for those who want to be technical with all the threads tied off. Picky absorbing work. What more can I say?

visions--38x38"--quilt--Ann Brauer--image by John Polak

detail--visions--quilt--Ann Brauer

the wind up

OK-- by now--as you just might already know--I moved into a new studio. Yeah!!! Friends told me my work looks absolutely fabulous. Never have they seen it look so good.

September fields--quilt--Ann Brauer--2014

And sure enough, within days, my big quilt--September fields--is headed for its new home. Yeah!!! Again.

But that means that I need to make another new quilt. After all, I am doing the Berkshire Craft Show August 8-10 in Great Barrington, MA. Should I cheer again? And then The American Craft Exposition in Evanston Augut 22-24. Yikes, what was I thinking.

Well, there is no time to think. I have to start--NOW. But what to make. Truth be told, I am not always feeling creative. Especially not when I am building a new studio. (Not that that is something I do often--but lots of my energy goes to deciding what color the door should be, what about the color of the tile in the rental unit upstairs. And how can I promote the new studio?) You get the gist.

But I can't hold a pity party. I must dig deep and think quickly. I know I want the quilt to have lots of color in it. I do after all have a black and grey quilt--winter light--which is fabulous. So I want something different and joyous.

winter light--99x99"--Ann Brauer--2013--quilt

I look around me. This is a quilt I made as a test for a large quilt that never happened. Yes, I love the sweep of the colors. So rich and wonderful.

quilt by Ann Brauer

But is it too "country"? Too much design in the fabric? I wonder.

Maybe it would look more "modern" if I had thin stripes running through it.  Yes, these quilts have names and better pictures. But this is how I was thinking. Put them up in the studio. Stand back. Think and ponder.

quilt by Ann Brauer

I love the sweep of the colors. But while the white looks fantastic in this smaller quilt, would it be too busy in a large quilt?  I try to visualize it.

Maybe dark would look better? More like September fields. Hmmm.

quilt by Ann Brauer

Well, it is time to make what I know. I can't fret about the new quilt too long. Fretting after all takes up time and energy. So I start. One long thin strip of yellow.

quilt by Ann Brauer

Now it looks like I am getting somewhere, doesn't it?

I organize and play with the next row. Arrange and re-arrange the colors. How quickly do I want the progression to happen? What will it look like when the quilt is done. After all, this quilt will be BIG.

quilt by Ann Brauer

Time to start. These seams are long.

quilt by Ann Brauer

Nice colors though aren't they? Now it seems like I am getting some place. If only I can continue. One row at a time. 

And you--how do you start a big quilt? Do you find the wind up to be the hardest part? Do you just jump in? Do you go back to what you have made before to find inspiration? Is this a trick for keeping your style consistent?

And most importantly, how will I get it done before those two craft shows?  Will it take on a life of its own? Can I just keep going?

For more information about the Berkshire Craft Show at Monument Mountain High School in Great Barrington now in its 41st year.   www.berkshirecraftsfair.or

And the American Craft Exposition at Northwestern University in Evanston, IL. www.americancraftexpo.org

sewing it together

Isn't there a song about snowy days and Sundays? Well, I guess the song was written in California but I am sure you get the gist.  Time though to get some tasks done.

Now one of the tasks is to write again about how I join the blocks together. Sure, I have written about this before but it is some place in the depths of my blog posts--I have been doing this for several years after all. So for those who are not interested, well there is always some snow to shovel--and if you don't have any, I can offer you some . And of course, you can alter this method using your own methods. Why not?

 As you probably know I piece the quilt in blogs and pin it to the display board.

I take two blocks that I want to join and pin them right sides together.

And sew a seam.

 

Then I cover the seam with a binding.

Which I whip stitch in place.

Press the seam open and repeat.

 

And repeat and repeat. Turn up the music. Take a break. And repeat.....

See that wasn't hard, was it? Just a bit long and a bit tedious.  Oh well, isn't that part of making quilts?

Good luck. And do let me know if you come up with any other variations on this method. I know I am always hunting for an easier method.

Getting into the zone--being creative

How does one design new quilts? What is the inspiration? I think of the theories of evolution--Stephen Jay Gould claimed that life evolves in small steps and large leaps. Is it the same for art? Certainly one of the secrets is to work at your art regularly--you know that old saying--how do you get to Carnegie Hall? Certainly I know that works for me.

Beyond that--it is a bit of a mystery to--and I think I like it that way. Such a fragile time when one is inspired. I don't want to over-analyze. Jinx it. Anyhow--yesterday I had the new quilt--cold ocean --pinned up on the design board. Looks good doesn't it?

Sure I need to change the red. A bit more orange if you know what I mean. I think that will make it pop. Tomorrow I will play with it--see what happens.

Meanwhile I have a potential order for a large quilt for a Miami home. A great customer. Only she wants the quilt to be lighter in weight than I normally make. OK--I have an idea. Not sure if I can piece without doing the quilt as you go. After all, the customer likes my work--so I want the quilt to look like I made it.


Now yesterday was a grey day. Cold. Rain. Freezing rain. Even frizzle--yes, there is such a word. I had a couple more hours left in the studio. My pile of pieces that I had cut for other projects and not used was getting out of hand. The new studio is much smaller than Conway Street and I am trying to be neater--can an artist really be neat?

And in the back of my mind was a great web site that my friend Kari Lonning had just sent me--the textiles of Gunta Stolzl--have you seen it? So many designs condensed into a few images. Worth studying if you haven't seen it. http://design-milk.com/fabric-designs-by-gunta-stolzl/.

In any case I had an idea. A question. I needed to see if I could really piece blocks without doing the quilt as you go that I am known for. Worth a shot. I wasn't sure it was possible but at least I would be cleaning the studio a bit in the process.

Hmm--not bad. Not sure about the colors but what happens if I continue.

Okay--I play with the ideas. Get into the colors. Add some life and something unexpected to the quilt. Not bad is it? Enough for now.

There is a there there--isn't there--to paraphrase Gertrude Stein.  Of course now I have to figure out how to finish this quilt. After all I am not known for my quilting. Indeed one of the reasons I love the quilt as you go is that I like keeping the designs of the fabric open--if you know what I mean.

Hmm--I will have to experiment. I have a couple of ideas--but there will be so many questions. So many little details. What design to use for the quilting? What color thread? Can I even do it? And how many other quilts can I make using this concept?

What do you think? Do you get into the zone? What do you think of machine quilting? Any great resources to share?

testing 1--2--3--4

Sometimes all I can do is make the quilt, Ann. Start sewing. Too much thought is not going to help. You see this time I have an order for a large quilt similar to endless fields. Maybe you remember this quilt--I made it during the winter and wrote about it HERE and HERE and HERE. Now I love this piece, simple and elegant. Thinking of the fields stretching into the horizon off into the unknown. I love the potential of those horizons, those dreams. The thoughts of that place out there. My photographer called this piece "regal". Elegant.  I'll take that as a complement.

But alas--endless fields is the wrong colors for the room. Now it is the sweetest room--overlooking the woods. Great art in the room. Simple and cozy. Tucked away. It needs a happy quilt. Lighter and less dominant. More summery but not too much green--she doesn't want too much green. And I want the quilt to be absolutely wonderful--the customer is so wonderful herself--I want it to echo her lovely personality.

So I have to rethink the quilt. Now sometimes I can just see in my mind's eye what a quilt will look like. I can picture it in the room just like that. It's fun. But this time I am not sure. There is so much potential here--but can I get the colors to progress without too much green? I play with the fabrics. Arrange them on the cutting table. Step back. Re-arrange them. Hmm. I could do this a long long time. But I must make progress on the quilt--I have been thinking about it long enough.

Time to make a test piece. Maybe even two. See what happens. Learn the potential of this pattern. Oh how I dislike those discussions wanting me to always make something new. I want to learn from what I have done and push the designs--but that may be a different blog post. Instead I start. Of course it seems really dark at first. I remember the same feeling in the first quilt. Lovely colors but dark.

It is nice to be working in a smaller piece. Let's me try out the ideas without sewing for days and then finding out it's not right.  Then I have to stop and think. Green to teal is easy. But teal to blue is harder. I put up different test fabrics. Which color works? I step back and squint. Think. Start.

Not bad--it may be a bit bright. I keep going. Is the blue too strong? Should I have tamped down the other colors? What will happen when it is sewn together?

I remember in endless fields it was only the last row or two that tied the work together. Will it be the same for this quilt? Did I allow myself enough room for the change or should I make the test piece longer? Should I just go browns and greys? So many questions. I must piece some more. See what happens and then insert the quilt in the room in my mind's eye. So much to do. So exciting to see what happens.

What do you think? Do you ever try test pieces? Will the light colors at the top--the ones not pieced yet--tie the quilt together? Or is it just a test piece?

take down--load out-- and cream puffs

Take down. Load out. Anxiety rises. Tensions mount as the end approaches. Are there be-backs in the aisles? The instructions have been passed out. Pack first then get a pass to get your car. Discreetly  folding and packing begins.  Clear out the trash. Put on work clothes. What can I put away? Do I really need all these potholders out? When do I get my boxes?  Have you heard the weather forecast?

We all know the horror stories. The show where security locks the hall down for hours. The load out where you have to park two city blocks from your car. The dolly that breaks. The impending blizzard. The one where my van needed a jump start to get out of the parking lot. I left my box of lights on the show floor. One artist kindly packed them in her van, drove them to Ohio then drove them back to Boston where neighbors who were doing the show picked them up and drove them back to me. Aren't crafts people wonderful?

This is not some TV show--the tale of some hit squad. This is the end of the craft show. So different the anxiety from set-up. There it is spread out. Arrive at your set-time. Load in. Park the vehicle and then begin figuring out how to best display your work in the space provided. Then the anxiety is whether the work will sell. What will your neighbors be like? Set up can be spread out over hours--even days. Slowly carefully putting up your display.  Your own little world. How does it look from a distance? A methodical process followed by time hopefully selling your work. Oh that seems like such a long time ago.

Take down is different. Everyone is doing it at the same time. We are all tired. All eager to be home. But first, the work must be protected. The quilts folded, rolled, wrapped. The forecast calls for horizontal rain. Wind. Gusts up to 40 or is it 50. A nor'easter. What fun. Lights removed carefully so they are ready for the next show. Yes, I remember them.  The display taken apart. The sections put in logical, manageable bags, boxes, bundles.  I do have a system. In the words of the U.S. Supreme Court--the time for "all deliberate speed." (Yes, I really am an attorney--inactive status.)

As my neighbor Laura Baring-Gould--oh I do love her work--said, "You can plan and think ahead but then something will come up and this is where you have to use your knowledge and skill to deal with it. Roll with the punches."

There is scant parking. One elevator. The rain has started. But the staff is pleasant--gives you cream puffs--literally and figuratively. Sometimes it is the little things that matter. This can get done. Just keep moving.

And this I believe is the lesson of take down. A lesson for life. Recently I did a series of
blog post exchanges with Lisa Call on getting things done. Do you make lists or have a schedule?  What is your process? But sometimes you just have to roll with the punches. Move with all deliberate speed and hope for the cream puffs.  At least that's my theory. Whether it is family coming for the holidays, the cord on the snow blower that snaps as my DH tries to test it or just finding time to create art. There is a way to get things done. Deal with it. One step at a time. And hope for the cream puffs.

And you how do you deal with this harried time of the holidays? The challenges of the season and getting work done in the studio. And the cream puffs?

what is fiber?

Recently there was an interesting discussion as to what is fiber and in particular whether hand made paper was a fiber art in one of the textile groups I belong to.  This got me thinking about what is fiber art. There must be a way to define it other than--you will know it when you see it.

I checked on Wikipedia--this was their definition. "Fiber art is a style of fine art which uses textiles such as fabric, yarn, and natural and synthetic fibers. It focuses on the materials and on the manual labour involved as part of its significance." OK--maybe this would be a start but I wasn't sure this was sufficient.

I then went to the website for the American Craft Council--after all you apply by category. No help whatsoever there--they say the artist can self-select the category they want to be juried in.

Then I realized I should check the web site for Friends of Fiber Art International --who would better define fiber than the group formed specifically to promote fiber art-- and found that they define a fiber art as "one-of-a-kind works...usually constructed of flexible materials using textile techniques." This can include sculptural baskets, quilts and tapestries among others. An interesting method of defining the work. A good start. Time to put it to a practical test.

Since I am doing the Long's Park Show this week-end I could easily look at some examples myself. My first stop was the booth of my friends Jeanne Petrosky and Dennis Guzenski of JPDesign This husband and wife team is creating paper sculptures that focus on the layering of textures and colors. Isn't it wonderful?

To make this work they use pigmented cotton FIBER and apply it to aluminum mesh to create a sheet of paper. Then they embellish it with various glazes and plasters to create a layering of textures and colors. OK--I guess this work has to be considered fiber art isn't it?

Worth taking a closer look at--and when you do, Jeanne titles each piece individually. These titles are great. Yes, definitely fiber art.

OK--that was easy. Now on to my friend Amy Gillespie. Now I have known Amy for years--way back when she was doing production fiber work--clearly wonderful pieces that were very popular and that gave her a firm background in fiber. But her new pieces are quite different. Very sculptural and sophisticated.  Let me show you one of them.

Basically she is combining felt and wood to create abstract landscapes. As she said, you need to look at the work closely.

These are tiny rolled spheres of hand died felt. What labor and technique went into making each piece.
Here is a close-up of another piece:

Clearly felt is a fiber--after all felt is made by compressing fibers such as wool until they intertwine into a mat. That has to be a fiber technique. But as Amy pointed out, even her use of wood involves a fibrous material--since wood is a fiber. Interesting.

My next challenge involved the booth of David Bacharach. Yes, I wrote about his garden sculpture in a previous post on surviving in a challenging economy.  But he also uses woven metal to create wall pieces. By definition weaving is a fiber technique and the metal has to be flexible to intertwine. What do you think?

My final visit was to the booth of Ausrine Kerr-- I just wrote about her work in my blog post about circles--my view from the show. As you may remember, she does also make wearable fiber and she views these prints as fine art. Certainly I feel that the category should be determined by the artist.  However, they also seem to me to have a strong connection to fiber art.

These are portions of the piece Lithuanian Spring that I adore. In the first image you can see some of the dandelions and seeds that she silk-screened onto the fabric to represent the tenacity of the seeds. The second image is another part of the same close-up showing very clearly the use of the fabric to create a layered effect. Most of the work is an embossed print with painting.

By now my head is spinning--no pun intended. Fiber art is still art. But where do you draw the line? Is it just for the artist to determine? Why is there even a distinction? Do we need categories or is art just art no matter how it is made? What do you think?

musings on gardening, quilt making and process

Today--I just read a blog post on getting started again after a break. What to do when you've been away from your work and not feeling particularly creative. It got me thinking about process and making things.

Right now it is the perfect time for me to consider this. I home finally--after seemingly endless weeks on the road--doing a couple of craft fairs. A totally different mind set from sewing in my studio. I  feel  I know the New Jersey Turnpike better than  my own driveway.  Ugh!!!  I am so tired-- every bone in my body aches.  How to get going again?

All I want to do is weed my garden. Now--before you think that I'm really strange--let me tell you about my garden. Though I grew up on a farm, my garden is not about food. Sure, I plant peas, lettuce, tomatoes--where will they go this year so they don't get that awful fungus? But mainly I plant  flowers.

Little miniature iris--so tiny and dainty--with vivid intense colors. Just look at little "Bantam Prince"--only about 6 inches tall. Aren't the colors wonderful?

Then there are the forget-me-nots. Actually a bit of a pest.  Self seeds all over the place. It came along with some daylily I bought.  But I certainly don't have the heart to pull it all up.  The  blue  so   hauntingly electric. You should see  the sweep of color at dusk.

Even the older little yellow iris--soft sunshine. Can you resist it?

Later there'll be other iris--Siberian, Japanese--in amazing combinations of blues, magentas, whites--and the daylilies. A couple hundred and the ones I have grown seed. I love the surprises of new colors and combinations.  But I digress.

Right now I just need to be outside. Weeding.  Creating order out of a chaos. Adding some compost. Planting the rest of my peas. Hope--one row at a time. This to me is essential. I can do it without really thinking. Just relax and enjoy. Is it because I grew up on a farm?

Then I'll go buy some more fabrics. What fun. Tomorrow a few potholders--something simple. Fold and refold the fabric. A little hand sewing. Maybe a set of placemats.  In a day or two I'll figure out a new quilt. After all I just got into a show I've never done before in Wilmington, Delaware this summer--more on that later. And I do have a pile of orders.

And you--do you ever have this problem? How do you get back into being creative after you've been away from work for a while?