It's Snowtober

Sometimes life forces you to rethink your normal patterns, in case you haven't noticed. Now usually I don't use much white in my work. Not sure why. Don't really like that stark contrast of color and white. For whatever reason.  But maybe I should. After all, the snow against the colors of the leaves is just magnificent. Yes, as you may know--it is Snowtober.  24 inches of snow. In October!!! Yes, you heard me right. 24 inches of snow in October. It is still too early to even get the studded snow tires on my van. Ugh!!! I am stuck at home on the mountain.

We were lucky--our snow was fairly light and fluffy--there are advantages to living on top of a mountain even though it was a challenge getting up here yesterday afternoon. We have a wood stove, lots of dry wood and a delicious pot of chili in the frig. Yes, I feel sorry for those without power--ugh--some may not get it back for days. But still--time to go for a snow shoe.

How gorgeous to see the colors of the leaves through the trees.

And up closer it gets even better.

What an assortment of colors. Look how intense the reds of the oak are against the snow.

 Aren't they fantastic? And the beech beckoning us down the driveway. A light of sunshine isn't it?

So much to see and absorb. How to use white and grey without it seeming forced. How to make it seem universal--after Snowtober is the most snow ever in October. Or maybe the most snow since 1804 in October.

Something to think about as I ponder the storm--maybe even go outside and think more about the colors. And you--how are you surviving Snowtober? How do you use whites and greys in your work? What do you think?

musings on what is modern?

This week-end a couple of ladies came in to my studio. One loved my work. The other said she "loved" my work--maybe she was just trying to be polite because she then added that famous word but..alas..her house was "Modern".  Oh I am sure you have heard this conversation before.

Now obviously this woman was not going to purchase. She was just coming up with one of those excuses. Understandable--don't we all do it every day. But it did get me to thinking--what is modern? Why are my quilts considered not good in modern locations? Yes, I've heard this conversation before.  But after all, my quilts are contemporary abstract landscapes and even a Modern home does require an attention to detail, style and color no matter how much metal and stone you use, doesn't it?

I mean just look at this wall hanging--first light--in its very simple setting. Doesn't it make the room?

Or consider colors of my garden in a very modern office building--drawing you down the corridor and echoing the colors of the steel.

Or light on the ocean in the same building?

Isn't even this version of dawn on the hill modern even if it is set in a more "country" style room?

So what is modern? Recently there was a fascinating discussion on Interior Designer Chat as to what is "modern". Obviously the meaning can vary with when you are asking the question. For instance, at one time the style of Louis Quattorze was considered modern if you know what I mean. So was the Victorian style, Art Deco--I could go on. Remember "everything's up to date in Kansas City". But modern can also refer to a specific design period--mid to late 20th century. Lots of metal and steel. Glass. Simplicity in design. Not cluttered. You know the look.

So wouldn't quilts work in a modern home--especially my quilts? I got to thinking. Certainly modern can include works with patterns and textures--just think of Jackson Pollock. Can't really get more patterned than that can you?  Quilts can be considered modern--think of the traditional Amish quilts--don't they look great in a modern setting? What about the quilts of Gee's Bend? The wonderful complex patterns and designs are modern, aren't they?

Maybe the issue is that I love to use commercially available quilting fabrics with all the associations they include. Is that the reason? But the quilts of Gee's Bend also can include fabric with design. Andy Warhol's Campbell soup cans include references to commercial patterns. Maybe they don't stop and think of the references to traditional fabric in my quilts.

Certainly I have had designers say that my work is "too busy" for them. Now up close there is a business to it--but not from a distance.  Maybe the issue is presentation. Maybe it is just a matter of taste. Or what is considered stylish by others? Maybe I should write something profound about the associations that my quilts have to the quilts of tradition. Or maybe it doesn't even matter--just something to muse about in the slack hours of the day? After all I really don't want to sell my quilts to those who don't truly love them.

What do you think? How do you define modern? Does it even matter?



Or maybe the issue is that woman really just did not like my work

enough already

No wonder I haven't posted for a while This morning I read this notice at my local post office.

Yes, that is a lot of rain. More than a yard of water. Almost an entire year's worth of rain. Oh, don't I wish I could send some of it down to Texas--at least five or ten inches. After all, Texas does not need to become a desert. And quite frankly we have had enough rain for a while. As a friend says, I have earned my right to complain about the weather even if I can't do anything about it.

And it is not just the rain. It is the endless potholders and eyeglass cases. So marketable. But do I ever have enough? Can I catch up? Isn't there more to life than this?

The clueless comments of the relatives. Trying so hard to be kind but just not understanding how huge the loss of my studio is. Why do we always expect more of them? Isn't that the problem?

Today the sun actually shone. I worked in my garden before work cutting back plants for the winter. Load after load of leaves onto the compost pile. Take that and that--incessant rainfall. Take that oh thoughtless relative.  I think of the words of a new friend who lost her home to a fire a few years ago. I think I remember reading about it. Gave me great advice. Don't do everything at once Ann,  she said. One day at a time. Surround yourself with those who do understand you. Your friends, your community, the unbelievable generosity of quiltmakers and artists, craftspeople and customers. These are the people to relate to. Their kindness keeps me on track.

And I tell myself I must make quilts. Not just the potholders and placemats, the table runners and eyeglass cases that sell out of my studio. But also the wall hangings and art quilts that enchant me. The ones I have to make. And so I start a new quilt. One based on the colors of autumn I can see on the Bridge of Flowers. Celebrating the blue sky and glorious colors. The greens and the rusts. The browns and even the blues. Don't you just love this picture? It has been haunting me even before I took it. This is not a quilt I need to make for an order but one I want to make. You must know the difference?

Slowly at first I start. One row like this:

Then another. Sketching out the next row. The rusts. So slowly it goes. Despite all the generosity my fabric stash is slim. I must search for that one piece that will hold it together.

But I can feel it coming together. I can see the outline in my mind's eye. And on Wednesday I can add more to it until it creates the quilt that I know it wants to become. This is why I do it.  And you, what motivates you? What keeps you going? How do you squeeze in the art you want to do?

the quilts of Ann Brauer--still standing edition

What a whirlwind of activity the last month has been.  As you may remember my beloved studio at 2 Conway Street floated down the Deerfield River while I was doing the American Craft Exposition in Evanston, IL at the end of August. Fortunately I had my best quilts and my craft fair display with me. The building floated and then got held up by two maple trees just before it would have gone into the River--my DH managed to rescue my sewing machine, the two quilts my grandmother made and some items stored up high. Most of the quilts in the building, much of the stash and supplies and many of the furnishings were lost--sigh--but it could have been worse.

No,  I did not have flood insurance--why should I?--the home nearest my studio had been standing for over 160 years. Unfortunately the water pressure at the Harriman Reservoir built up to the point where the utility company had to release water from the flood gates or risk having the entire reservoir go. Certainly if they had not had to do this release my lovely building would still be standing. Could they have drawn down the water level more before Irene? Could they have provided sufficient notice that this was even a possibility so more could have been save? Questions that haunt me in the wee hours of the morning. And no, FEMA does not help small businesses.

Meanwhile so many people and organizations have been so kind. I can't thank them enough--although I try.  CERF+ has been truly outstanding. I must also give shout outs to the Mary Lyon Foundation, the Shelburne Falls Area Business Association and A Notion to Quilt. There have been donations of time and money from friends and even strangers--all much appreciated, quiltmakers who managed to give me priced donations of stash--usually managing to choose just the right fabric I needed for the particular project, customers who made purchases to help me, suppliers who waced fees and of course my wonderful DH who has born more than his fair share of helping me deal with these events. Oh so many people--I appreciate each and every thing that has been done. I could go on--but if you want to follow my progress more--I usually post about it on my Facebook Page--
http://www.facebook.com/AnnBrauerQuiltStudio

My studio is now usually open at 6 Bridge Street in Shelburne Falls--just across the river from where the darling pink building was. This week-end I will be at the Paradise City Arts Festival in Northampton, MA. I love this show--there is so much wonderful work there, as well as great food and music as well as plenty of free parking. Have you ever visited it? Definitely worth a trip or a visit while you look at the leaves changing into their autumn splendor. I am Booth 837. Do stop by. For further information or discounted tickets--their web site is http://www.paradisecityarts.com Note--when I do a craft show, the studio is closed.

Meanwhile I still cannot do a quilt of the month--I hope you will understand--but I did want to share an image of a new quilt I just finished that does show reflections of Irene. I call it "above the river".  What do you think?

but do I have enough fabric?

OK--I finally decided I must make a new wall hanging. Not just a small square but a mid-size one. Sort of like the ones I used to make. Back in the good old days before Irene. When my quilts were selling well and I had plenty of stash. Just a month or so ago as you may remember. Sigh!! How life can change.

After all, I do need to have quilts to sell and I did lose about half my quilts, much of my stash and my darling building thanks to Irene. GRRR!!! Sometimes though the only way out is through. Luckily I will be doing the Paradise City Northampton show in a few days--hope to see many of you there.

So I told myself a few days ago I must start. I will make a quilt that I have made before. A few tweaks here and there of course. I never make the same quilt twice after all. But I don't want to reinvent everything at once. I know it will be hard enough to work in the new space. Figure out which fabrics I have. Ease myself gradually into the process.

Why not a variation on desert hills? Nice quilt isn't it? Some of the greys that I have been working with. I think I have a few golden browns. Not sure about the darker colors--but A Notion to Quilt has been very generous and they are just up the road from me.

But will I have enough fabric? After all each block requires 10 or is it 12 different  fabrics--all related in color and progressive. Not just any grey will do. A grey with mauve is so different from a grey with green or rust.  Each block must be different--although I do allow myself to use the same fabric more than once. And each row is a different color combination so this means a lots of different fabrics. I can't overthink it though so I start.

Hmmm. Not bad. I look at it for a day and add another row. Let's see what happens.

Yes, there is a color here. Definitely some variation but not bad. I don't think I will add another row of even darker down at the bottom. Instead some pale yellows and tans. Let's see what happens.

Is the sunshine too bright? Can I find the colors for three more rows of golden brown--not too bright?
I don't want to overwhelm the grey. I am thinking about a bit of the thin piecing in the center. Maybe. Luckily I just received a lovely package of stash from a quiltmaker in Washington State--what lovely browns she included. Just what I needed.

Hopefully today I can add another row. How nice it feels to be working again. What do you think? How do you start working again? Will I see you at the Paradise City Show? Or my new studio?

thoughts on kindness and color

I wake up at four in the morning--sometimes five if I'm lucky these days. My mind is reeling with so much to do. Tasks everywhere. Plans. Ideas.  Each seems to take twice as long as before. There is a definite order that must be followed. A process.  The back room is cluttered with boxes. The box from the new open flag must be broken down. Boxes from my track lights. I can't put them in my van--it goes into the service station again. Will they have the time today to fix the check engine light--this will be the third time I have taken it in. Normally no big deal--but right now just added hassle that I don't need.  Then the inspection station. Ugh again!!! Then I can put the boxes in the back. See what I mean.

To send out the order of pillows I must open the carton. Stuff the pillows. Find a box. The packing tape. The address. Things that I used to do automatically now require careful thought.

Where is my seam ripper? I think I have seen it. It used to be on my counter top--right there.  When will it resurface?  For now I can use scissors--it will reappear. I must make order out of chaos. One day at a time. One project done every day. One day at a time.

Today a friend comes to help. She can do some of those tasks that hang over my head. How nice it will be not to worry about those things again. How kind of her to help. How lucky I am.

Then I must make more quilts. After all, I do have a craft show in a couple of weeks. The Paradise Northampton Show--love doing that fair. So much great work there. A crowd that is enjoying themselves. Will you be there? Delicious food. Great music. Great art and crafts. I must have enough potholders. A selection of placemats and eyeglass cases. I know these will sell.

A new friend had sent me a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye probably the best known Arab-American poet. Have you heard of her? I hadn't. Wonderful work. So sure of herself and pictorial. She tells a story. The poem I received is called "Kindness". The gist of the poem is that only after you have been knocked down to the depths by life, lost everything and seen the loss of all--only then can you know that what is left after such loss is kindness. Just read these words.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. 
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

She concludes that only after the sorry can you know kindness--let me quote some more.

only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere

like a shadow or a friend.

Isn't it wonderful. It is worth it to check her out more. Here is a link to a short poem she read at Earlham College in Indiana.  Great isn't she?

Yes, kindness is left and will sustain me. So many people. So kind. But for me also there is more. There is color. This is what I do. This is what propels me further. I must make more squares with the colors of autumn. What do you think?

This is part of what I dream of at four in the morning. This is part of why there are still boxes in the back room. This is what keeps me sane.

And you--what do you do when life overwhelms you? What are your tricks? The things you tell yourself? And kindness--what are your thoughts there.

Mud season

Oh no--no matter how nice everyone has been--and people have been very very kind. Businesses and friends have gone out of their way for me in ways I dare not expect and can't but appreciate and cherish.  Still no matter how hard I try to accept it--and I do try very very hard--there is a part of me that is screaming inside--"NO!" "Let me wake up from this nightmare. This is really not happening to me. Tomorrow I can go back to my happy contented life at 2 Conway Street and create the quilts of my dreams."

OK--I know that is not going to happen. I know I should be so grateful. And indeed I am. After all, I lost my studio--my home away from home--but not my home. More importantly I did not lose any one near and dear to me. That would have been unimaginable. And I don't want to seem unthankful for all those who have been so kind to me. This is just a passing moment and I do appreciate and cherish your lovely and gracious actions--please do not get me wrong.

I did have my best quilts with me and within me. I can rebuild. Maybe even making better quilts or a better career. I have an absolutely wonderful husband who will do anything he can for me. I have great friends. A great community both in Shelburne Falls and in the general art/quilt community.

I know deep in my heart that I was/am very very lucky. Yet sometimes I cry. I scream with rage. I hope to wake up. I hope this is not wrong. I hope this is just normal.

Meanwhile I try to make quilts that contain the mud. Maybe it is too soon. Maybe I need to make quilts about rebirth. Dawn. Maybe a complex quilt will contain my feelings. Not sure. I will try a new quilt tomorrow--see if that tames the anguish inside me.

For now though this is my first quilt of the mud season. I hope you will bear with me as I try to sort through this random act of whatever.

What do you think? How do you cope? Is working through mud the answer or should I go to dawn? How do you use the rage against the night?