written in the hand

Recently I was asked to sew sleeves to two quilts made by Phyllis Kirkpatrick. Now I first became aware of her work way back when I was starting my career and did the Ashfield Fall Festival. I loved her simple designs based on traditional designs and her fine attention to detail and fabric. I was saddened to hear by word of mouth that she is no longer making quilts. So it was with delight and awe that I examined her work today.

Yes, it still held up. Her piecing was exquisite. Remember, she was piecing before paper piecing was discovered. She used scissors not a rotary cutter. And the fabrics back then were very different from the cottons we know today. But-ah-the designs. Here is one--a simple mosaic--about 37x37 inches.

I don't know the name of the pattern in the center--do you?

But I loved the detail. Look at the piecing around the edge. So simple and perfect. Remember the entire quilt is 37x37 inches. Don't you just love the flow of the hand quilting?

The other quilt was based on diamonds. Again look at the overall design. Simple, complex and elegant. The quilt is alive with the various patterns that the diamonds form.

Again the piecing is exquisite. See how sharp the corners are. Each one carefully outlined with hand quilting stitches. Isn't it amazing how fabrics have changed?

 And the hand quilting--again simple and elegant. The feeling that this is a quilt to be respected and honored.

This got me to thinking about the importance of the hand and hand work. I went back to the NPR show On Being and the interview with  Renate Hiller--a spinner and the co-director of  the Fiber Craft Studio in Chestnut Ridge, NY. As she said“Our destiny is written in the hand.”  The process of working by hand, she says, grounds us and changes us so that it becomes a spiritual practice. It is a way of connecting with that which is essentially human and meditative. Indeed she says it becomes a way for being healing to our world. And it’s a service for the divine that we are surrounded by.

Take a moment to think about the importance of that statement. Working with your hands as being a service for the divine. What importance is put upon it. What significance. You can see and hear the interview HERE.

Now I will be the first to agree that we all have to find our own ways of working with our hands. Certainly there are quilts that are made for the simple need of warmth. There are quilts that are made to show your care to cover a person. There may even be quilts made simply to relax from our long tedious days.  I will be the first to admit that I frequently clean my house with "a lick and a promise." I can throw meals on the table with the best of them. And I do know that I have my critics who think I am a "quilt snob" because I do think that craftsmanship is important.

But shouldn't we also have at least one place in our lives where we make something with our entire spirit and essence? Shouldn't we sometimes slow down and make quilts with the determination to do the best we can? Isn't the search for fine craftsmanship important? And isn't that the lesson of the quilts of Phyllis Kirkpatrick?

OK--that is my two cents. I would love to hear from you. What do you think? What do you do to ground yourself? Do you have one thing where you try your best?

are you where you should be?

To get to the garden is not easy nor is it difficult, but it is an
experience.  The big problem is a psychological one of wondering if you're
really where you should be.  Once this feeling is overcome you begin to
relax and enjoy the serenity of the drive.

Isn't that absolutely beautiful? How true it is--let me repeat it--the biggest problem is a psychological one of wondering if you're really where you should be.

The article continues: .....The journey is short, but if it is your first time it may seem long.
The road is narrow.....

When you get there the garden is informal, easy to look at, and belies the fact that a hybridizer is at work.
 

These comments came from a visit that  Bill Munson made to  Solano Grove--the garden of Vera McFarland near St Augustine.  It is from *The Hemerocallis Journal*, December
1973, pages 33-36, and was written by Bill Munson. I read it on the Daylily Robin which is open to all members of the American Hemerocallis Society. Both Bill and Vera were well-known and respected hybridizers. I put more of the article at the end of the post. The writing is gorgeous. And yes, I am glad to be a member of AHS.

I think about these words of the visit as I contemplate the winter that is now passing. It was a long hard winter here. The snow came and lasted. Mud season went on and on. Many mornings I had to hike down the hill to my van and then hike home in the afternoon. It was cold.  More cold. Then more snow.

For my quilts it has also been a season of self-doubt and exploration. New works. Endless trying and learning. Some worked well--I love the pillows and purses. The eyeglass cases. You can see some HERE. Others are ideas not there yet--still waiting. A slow process of creating quilts that are true. Agonizing and squinting. The journey seems long. The road narrow.

Last week I visited my in-laws by the ocean. As you may remember it was a cloudy misty time--memories ebbing and flowing with the tides. The clouds hung so low and thick there was no direction to the day. I wrote about it HERE.

When I returned I had to settle--to make a quilt. A quilt of this time of mist and mystery. Soft colors-- hints and undercurrents. Slight slow movement. The calm and mystery. The ocean was gentle. The visit was gentle. The colors came together simple and sure. Complex colors that combine for a story. A mood of longing and remembering. Soft and gentle. Informal. Belying the struggles and thought in its creation. Almost done. Then I will sew it together.

Gorgeous colors aren't they? Simple and haunting. I love it when a piece works.  This is what I do.  This is my journey and path. It looks simple but it is not always easy.  The forsythia will bloom today. There are daffodils and crocuses. Little fans of daylilies are nudging out of their slumber. The deep reds of Highland Lord--hybridized by of course Bill Munson.  I can't wait.The layers of purple and mauve with the green/yellow eye of Pharoah's Treasure--you can see it HERE. Aren't the names divine? I go to Flickr and find pages of images of his daylilies--just like his writing, simple and complex. I want them all. Do check them out HERE.  I don't have any daylilies by Vera McFarland--maybe I need "Frivolous Frills" or "Super Double Delight". But does that even matter. Spring is coming. The quilts are coming together. I am where I should be. Is there any more to ask from life?

 And you--are you where you should be? How do you know? How do you decide? What do you think of the quilt? And is it spring finally where you live?



For those who want to read more of the article--here it is from the Daylily Robin. If you like flowers I strongly recommend joining AHS--couldn't ask for a nicer group of people.

"Solano Grove is west of St. Augustine on the east bank of the St. John's
River.  The only major landmark to guide your turn from the State Road 13 is
an over-sized mail box.  Once the mailbox is found you stop and open a gate
and start your journey to the Grove....."


The peacefulness of the following description of Vera McFarland's Solano
Grove appealed to me today.  It is from *The Hemerocallis Journal*, December
1973, pages 33-36, and was written by Bill Munson.  But I have put only a
few excerpts from the first two pages.  All that follows is quoted:




.....To convey the picturesque beauty of this unique garden spot would take
the touch of a poet.  For this garden is unique.  It blends the natural
beauty of the hammock land with the gardening philosophy of its owner,
planner and keeper, Vera McFarland.


.....The majestic oaks, the silent river, the cascading Spanish moss, the
forest birds all exemplifying the quietude that was once so much a part of
our lives and now gone, but experienced again at Solano Grove.  Only the
unwelcome intrusion of a motor boat on the river or a jet high above the
canopy of the trees betrays the 20th Century harangue.


To get to the garden is not easy nor is it difficult, but it is an
experience.  The big problem is a psychological one of wondering if you're
really where you should be.  Once this feeling is overcome you begin to
relax and enjoy the serenity of the drive.


.....The journey is short, but if it is your first time it may seem long.
The road is narrow.....  Wild turkey and quail can often be seen as you
drive along.  Cross a small rustic-type bridge and enter a small cleared
area and you know at once you are at Solano Grove.


The river is on your right only a few yards away.  The hammock is on your
left even closer, and straight ahead is a grove of oaks whose canopy of
limbs, leaves, and Spanish moss shelter the garden below.  The garden is
informal, easy to look at, and belies the fact that a hybridizer is at work.


Large drifts and mass plantings of daylilies abound.  The soil is sandy, but
rich and the water level generally high.  Several times during the year low
portions of the garden may be under water.  Because of this Vera is forced
many times to plant on raised beds or rows.  But whatever the conditions the
flowers love it here.


Small chameleon and garden spiders watch as you enter their world.  Time
seems to have stood still and the silence engulfs you.


Soon Vera joins you and is effervescent over a new seedling that has
bloomed.....

in-laws and the colors of the ocean

Ah in-laws. An experience in patience and understanding. Kind loving people all trying so hard to help the aging. The aging trying to retain their pride and independence.  So many subcurrents swirling in stories that only reveal parts of themselves each time they are told. The emphasis changing as the mood changes and the audience changes. Events remembered only in the mists of the past. I watch and assist--trying to capture threads of solid ground and truth.  The rhythms of the stories. The search for truth. Stories that I as an outsider--but also family--hear and try to find the meaning of.

I come from a small family. Grounded in the prairies of the Midwest. I can express the power of the sky and the strength of the dirt. This I know intuitively.

But the house of my in-laws is on a river by the ocean. There are many siblings. Many stories. This is not the bright vast ocean of the summer. Blue and endless. Dreams and hope. Light dancing off the waves. Promise and sureness. Understandable.

But the ocean of April--misty.  Fog clinging to the shore.  A slight chill. The sound of the waves on the shore. Harder for me to absorb but still beautiful. An occasional fisherman anchoring the space between the water and the sky.

Distant shores hint at a solidness and hope.

It has been a long slow spring. The salt marshes still taupe with last year's growth. Pools of water stretching out and waiting. A snowy egret in the distance.

The sound of the tide swirling out. Slowly. This is Rhode Island. The tides not high and dramatic like Maine but constant and gentle. There is a quilt here in this softness and mystery. These colors both so soft and so complex. Soothing but deep. There is a quilt in these stories.

But how to capture it? How to capture the mood and the feeling. The sadness of the aging. The swirling stories of families. I pull out my fabrics. The gentle greys and taupes. The dusty greens and blues. Soft colors. Calm colors. How to do this?

And you--what inspires you and the ocean? How do you capture the colors of the fog and mist? This intense quiet and stillness.

simple but not easy

Recently I received this e-mail from a reader.

I *love, love, love your quilts!
I want to make one.  A small piece of one......  More than one square....  I know that it has probably taken you years and years and years to develop your technique and style.  I also know that an eye is not easily developed, but takes lots of practice.  I'm not even pretending to think I can create the art you are creating, but I would love to learn the technique...  I understand basic quilting as you go.  It appears each smaller block has *both* batting and backing attached before they are connected to the next.  I can possibly envision the vertical piecing of the smaller blocks.  But the horizontal blocks I am struggling to understand how they are attached.  Is this a trade secret?  Is it just best, for me, to just jet off and see one in person?  LOL!  If nothing else, I just *need* to know!!!!
You do beautiful, beautiful work, Ann.  I love it all!

Sweet isn't it?


Now the author is right--the style has taken me years and years to develop. However, the technique is actually very simple.  I even wrote about it last year. Now if I was an organized blogger I would create a page with the directions--and maybe I will. But for now let me just reference the blog posts.

First of course I design the quilt and make sure I have fabrics that will work for the piece. My two favorite fabric stores are The Textile Company in Greenfield, MA which I wrote about HERE in my post Confessions of a Fabricoholic.  Since writing that post they have changed their closing time to 5 except on Friday when they close at 8. The other store is A Notion to Quilt which I wrote about HERE. And yes it was called More Confessions of a Fabricoholic--can you relate? Of course if I am doing a show in another location I do check out other fabric stores--can one actually have too much fabric?

Then I begin piecing the quilt using a method I call "quilt as you go." HERE is an illustrated blog post of how I pieced the quilt desert hills.

I piece the quilt in blogs--and then join the blogs together. HERE I wrote a blog post with more pictures as to how I finish the quilt.

As you can see, the technique is simple--but not necessarily easy. This is not a pattern but directions for a technique that you can make your own. Certainly care is required throughout--create a design that interests you. Practice working with the colors to figure out the effect that the colors and fabrics have on each other. Keep your sewing machine clean and in good working order--after all, you will be seeing the back of the block so you want it to look good.

And perhaps most importantly--have fun!! After all life is too short not to have fun. So what do you think--does this answer some of your questions? Have you tried this technique--I would love to see pictures.

a butterfly flapping its wings

There is a scientific theory out there--almost a mathematical principle about complex systems. How do we analyze things that are so complex that we can't use a formula--or even a series of formulas. Things like the weather or the Internet. Air traffic control. And maybe quilts. In its essence the theory is that a butterfly flapping its wings in California can cause a hurricane in Florida--or is it a dust storm in the Sahara. I've heard it many different ways--indeed as I was writing this post NPR had another article on about it. Coincidence or meant to be. I don't know but I love thinking that somehow the butterfly disturbs just the right amount of air to create that disturbance that causes a larger disturbance that causes..... Well, you get the idea.


Isn't the same true for quilts?  Now I know that artists are supposed to be able to manipulate the fabric to create just what the envision. But what happens if you have different fabrics or different sizes. Don't you then get a different quilt. Is this the difference between artist and craftsperson?

Anyhow as you may know from my recent blog post, I have been making a quilt autumn dawn for a great customer. This is the quilt. Nice--huh!

When last I wrote about it, the quilt was just started--a couple of rows of fabric just sitting there so alone and uncertain--you can read about it here.  Now certainly quilts are a primary example of that proverb that the whole is more than the sum of its pieces. Over the last week I have let the quilt grow--slowly--one row at a time.

What color comes next? Is the yellow strong enough?

Amazing how the color seems to pop as I add more rows.

Yes, the lighting in the studio changes as the weather changes and the light changes. Perhaps a little less red or rust than the first quilt. Can I add more? I was worried that the yellow would not even show in the quilt when I started. It's there--is it strong enough.

And the final row. A little darker--is this because the size is larger. More room to have the colors progress? Or was it the yellow in the first row--that inevitable butterfly flapping? This quilt did not want to be warmer.

And how different will it look when it is sewn together.

What a slow process it is. How much faith is involved that the colors and fabrics will in the end work. And you--do you think of quilts as complex systems? Do you ever think of the butterfly flapping its wings? How do you make your decisions?

no more kale!!!

 Finally spring has come. Yesterday was just right for playing in the soil. I planted a row of peas. Spread some lime. Pulled up the few plants that I had not gotten to last fall. Tried to plan the garden for this year. Where do the tomatoes go? The green beans? The cukes?

Now for me, you must understand that my garden is a hobby--where I play before I go to the studio. On summer evenings after I come home from work.  I don't preserve the food for winter--well, I did make three jars of brandied peaches last year. Yummy!!! Sometimes I freeze a few tomatoes. But for the most part, I cook with what I grow in the summer and that's it. I am a quilt maker--and in the end, even this blog post will be about quilts--please bear with me.

So although my garden is large enough, space is at a premium. Now I dearly love flowers--Siberian iris, Japanese iris, echinacea, and especially daylilies. I love my daylilies. Probably have a couple hundred. I am even a member of the American Hemerocallis Society and in July the colors in my garden are wonderful reds and oranges, yellows and plums which inspired this quilt--the colors of summer.

See it really is "the garden formerly known as the vegetable garden." The veggies are tucked into the corners. Always a challenge to find new places to grow the tomatoes. Rotate the crops.

So I read with interest Pat Leuchtman's blog post recently in The Greenfield Recorder--my local paper. This is her blog site here although the article has not been posted yet. She was writing about gardening in small spaces. A vegetable garden only needs 100 square feet of space she said. Oh I like this. One common mistake people make is to grow things that are easy to grow--such as kale--but which they then don't eat.

That is my problem. Sure I love kale in soup. Portuguese bean soup with spicy sausage and kale. An occasional meal. But no matter how good it is for me--let's face it--I don't eat that much. Think of the space I will have if I just plant the veggies that I know I want--the basil and lettuce, the hot peppers--love having them in the garden, the zukes--yes, they are so good when they are tiny, parsley. Celery--that was such a treat last year. I used it over and over again. What else?

And isn't that the secret to making quilts also. (See, this really is a blog about making quilts after all.) Why make the things that don't sell? Or the items that I dread creating--yes, there is such a thing?  Isn't life supposed to be fun? Why not clean out the fabrics that I haven't used in years? Certainly they could find a good home?

I no longer make baby quilts--haven't for years. No more pieced quilts. They don't interest me. If I have added the new purses and pillows, the eyeglass cases that I posted on my web site--what can I discontinue? And you what is your "kale"?  How do you prioritize? And what does your garden look like?

musings on the color violet

Recently I have been thinking about the color "violet".  OK.  It began when I read on HGTV's blog post that violet was voted the color of the month for April--beating out pink and grey--although just narrowly. Violet--hmm!! Interesting choice. A color we all know--but do we really know it?  What color is violet? Is it purple? Lavender? Magenta? And why violet--why wasn't green in the running? Or yellow? What was I missing?

Now I love the pictures on that blog post--but I must admit I can't imagine an entire room done in violet. It just feels unsettling to me. Too rich and intense. But HGTV uses the color as an accessory.  Love that a room can be decorated around just one strong piece. A bit of wall painted what they call violet. An accent piece. Great concept. But--as they admit--their violet is a bit pinker than I had associated with the color violet. A bit closer to magenta. What is this color?

It is time to check out on Wikipedia. Fascinating discussion--so many different colors for violet--different tones, different wave lengths. Do check it out here. I learn that Sir Isaac Newton used the word as one of the spectral colors. If both purple and violet are used in a color way, violet is more blue. Violet can be the color in between magenta and blue.  But then there is electric violet, vivid violet, dark violet. Violet the color of the flower--different from lavender and lilac.  Look at all these colors of violet I found on that Wikipedia site--well worth the read.

More research on the Internet. I find out that based on the way we see things, violet not blue could be considered a primary color. This goes back to Sir Isaac doesn't it?  Colors reflect light different ways that can be measured. Fascinating--although the science goes over my head. Check it out here. I learn that in Eastern religions violet is considered a calming color--related to the Chakra. You can check it out here. Not what I would have expected. Do different cultures see colors differently? 

Returning to Wikipedia violet is the color used in Great Britain to wrap chocolate since violet is considered the color of royalty. Violet as colors of Lent and Advent. This is familiar territory. The term goes back to the Latin for that little flower the violet.

I remember violets as a child-- picking handfuls of them,  holding them carefully and putting them into a tiny glass of water. So precious. How long it takes to create a bouquet--using my fingernails to pluck the tiny stems until finally there is that essence of color. Searching them out in the grass. Sugared and dainty on ice cream.  Finding the wild white and yellow violets--isn't that an oxymoron. I think of the violets that now grow in my garden. Not the delicate wild flowers but big clumps plants that spread and have to be dug up with a spade fork in huge clumps. Moved to better locations. Composted.

And violet in my work. I agree with HGTV--a color to be used as an accent. A bit here. A bit there. Violet placemats.

Hints of violet in the purses and eyeglass cases. Not too much.

The progression of the colors of the sky in first light.

Color progressions of violet and blue. And I wonder if violet is one of those colors that can be whatever we want it to be--regal or calming, inspired or electric. At the edge of the visible light spectrum. Hidden like the tiny violets from which it got its name. Or bold like the colors of the sky. In April isn't there just the slightest tinge of violet in the blue of the sky?

Yes, there is something fresh and spring like there. Maybe May is the month that should be green? What do you think? Do you use violet in your work? Is it the color of April? What color is violet? And I must also thank colourlovers for bringing this discussion to my attention.