100 Quilts · Creating · Quilts

Deep in the Trenches & Twined Thread

Or rows of flowers, as the case may be.

It’s winter, so that means some sort of flu bug or sickness will find its way to me.  So, I sat on the sofa and appliqued my flowers while I watched The Social Network.  Twice.  Once straight through and once with the actors all talking about what they did/thoughtabout while they did their scenes.  My husband fixed dinner, cleaned it up (I know–I’m not trading him for anything) and I went upstairs to do lesson prep for today’s teaching–like I had a cotton head or something. Luckily appliqueing doesn’t take much brain power or we’d be in trouble.

I took down the other row this afternoon after class, with all the pins skitty-wampus through the pieces.

I lay them on my table, and trade out the monster, regular pins for tiny applique pins (see the comparison, above).  This is a trick I learned from the quilters when I we lived in Virginia for a year.  They are accomplished appliquers, all.  They also told me to use silk thread, which I do, for the thread just disappears when the piece is stitched on.

I traded out the Wintery Branches quilt in my hallway a few weeks ago for the Valentine Quilt I’d made out of turkey red and cream.  I’d always wanted a turkey red-white quilt, and was at a little teensy-tinsy quilt show, where one booth had some turkey red yardage.  I didn’t prewash the red fabric, so I guess I’ll never throw it in the laundry.  It would probably end up a turkey red-and-pink quilt then.

It’s a fairly simple quilt, with intertwined stripes, but I like it not only for its coloration, but that lean, linear quality.  This is also the first quilt I machine quilted.  Ever.  I started out with cream-colored thread, but hated how it looked when I stippled over the red.  (Everyone did a stippling pattern in those days!) I switched out to monofilament thread after unpicking yards and yards of stitching.

Here’s the label on the backside (sorry, I know it’s a little blurry).

The verse reads:

No cord nor cable can so forcibly draw, or hold so fast, as love can do with a twined thread.–Burton.

The name of this quilt is Twined Thread, and it was completed July 1997.  Of course, you all know it’s in honor of that man who will cook me dinner and do the dishes when I am laying sick on the sofa.  Love holds us fast together.

 

Creating

Looky!

One side pinned down. Sort of.  There’s always changes. (I can already see a couple I want to make.)

This after I complained to my mother that I hadn’t had any time to work on the quilt–but I hurried through lesson prep and writing an assignment and did the dishes early and rushed upstairs after dinner.

Those tiny circles are tedious, but the forward motion of the quilt is pulling me to completion.  Will I last for the next few weeks?  I’ve got a commitment to Rhonda to start our Lollypop blocks in March, but Rhonda, please–can I have a little more time?

Creating

Good to Be At This Place

I finally decided on the blue inner border and a glorious blossoming orange and yellow mum border.  My husband calls this the red dot phase and so it is–trying to figure out where to put the dots, the leaves, the stems.

Before the next set of essays to grade come in (this Thursday), I’m working on ironing the leaves around their freezer paper templates, making circles and circles and circles. It feels good to be at this place. In the book, Learning by Heart, Corita says:

“There is an energy in the creative process that belongs in the league of those energies which can uplight, unify, and harmonize all of us.  This energy, which we call ‘making,’ is the relating of parts to make a new whole.  The result might be a paint, a symphony, a building.”

Or a quilt.

Creating

Choices

Concentrate on those outer borders: the ones separated by the thin dark green strip.

Now, what have you learned?  That watching someone trying to figure out a quilt is more boring than watching paint dry?  I agree.

I subject you to this only because there was a flurry of “I Took The Process Pledge” buttons popping up on posts all over the blogosphere.  Supposedly you, the reader/viewer, would find it completely fascinating on how we all put our quilts together–the “process” of our quilting.  So, some quilters that I used to enjoy have lately become really boring.  With this quilt, I have to place myself in that category.  Would we have liked watching Van Gogh do his brush strokes?  Only if we were interested in replicating Van Gogh’s work.  What about Rothko, with his endless layers of paint?  Same.

So (thankfully) my obsession with this quilt took a momentary back seat to going to my daughter’s home, where they are packing up again to move–the fourth move in three years, she told me.  Or is it the third move in four years?  It was a busy weekend.  With the help of my very cute granddaughter, I helped the process along by packing up the kitchen while my daughter went to her last heart doctor appointment.  (She has PPCM.)

I didn’t think about this quilt at all, and came home to gaze on it (and all those photos in the slide show) with fresh eyes.

By studying others’ quilts, I discovered that the two fabrics on the outer borders need to harmonize.  For the circles in the center to have the most impact, those outer borders need to be lighter in value.  Now I just need to choose between the combinations above.  Feel free to add in your two cents, knowing that I will go where this quilt leads me.  Even if it is over a cliff.