300 Quilts · Patterns by Elizabeth of OPQuilt · Something to Think About

Do you like giant?

Giant ideas? Giant bugs? Giant fabric stores? Giant mounds of laundry?

Sometimes we like giant things, like big spaces, big bowls of our favorite desert, big travel trips that include The Very Large Array. Other times, we don’t: huge messes that we have to clean up, massive surprise expenses, big insects, a huge amount of bumper-to-bumper traffic, or hurricanes. It’s like we know that some leaps of fancy and expressive gestures bring exuberance, excitement, joy, like standing next to a really tall sunflower in a field of yellow in the south of France. This big, we like.

Standing next to the heap of stuff we just dragged out of the garage and now have to sort and put it back in? Or the downed trees and aftermath of a storm system on our corner of the world? Or a task we’ve been putting off and putting off that has gotten ginormous in our imagination? Maybe not so much.

The Very Large Quilt Blocks

We like Big that we choose. We like Big that takes our breath away, like the Grand Canyon, or a sunset that stretches for miles across the New Mexico desert. We like Big where we can stand on our own solid ground and meet that idea or sight or brilliance, while not being swept down a canyon in life-threatening rushing water. As Arash Javanbakht and Linda Saab note “When our “thinking” brain gives feedback to our “emotional” brain and we perceive ourselves as being in a safe space, we can then quickly shift the way we experience that high arousal state, going from one of fear to one of enjoyment or excitement.”

Consider The Lilies of the Front Yard, quilt number 51 • March 2003

However, I’m more interested in the brain shift needed to think Big. I remember taking a class with Jane Sassaman once at a guild retreat, and she was encouraging and lovely. I have always done better with small-scale projects, but in Sassaman’s class I got busy creating the wildest thing I could, as I greatly admired her quilts. She strolled around the class and came to help, when I raised my hand, stuck as I was on the design in front of me.

“Can you go bigger?” she asked. “Really make that lily jump out of its place? Get those leaves to look slightly menacing?” I’ll try, I said. Alas, I could not. Did not.

One website offers up that large-scale art is a way for the artist “to express themselves in a way that is unique and personal” and that “[l]arge scale art follows the tradition of monumental masters like Botticelli, Rembrandt, Monet, Picasso, and Klimt. Especially popular in the 18th century, it was used to depict scenes of history on large scale wall art. Thus, for its sheer size and themes, this type of painting was considered “more important” than portraiture, still life, and landscape.”

stained glass effect

Well, I don’t know about all that, but I did make a few giant flowers, gave them a latticework frame and a blue-sky border.

So maybe all I have to say today is to do something big.
You might surprise yourself.

Giant Flower pattern found here.

300 Quilts · Patterns by Elizabeth of OPQuilt · Something to Think About

Coquelicot (Poppy) • quilt finish

“What’s odd about commencement is that so many people think of it as the end of something, the end of high school or college—but that’s not what the word means at all. It means the beginning, the start of something new.” Will Schwalbe, (from The End of Your Life Book Club: A Memoir)

So is there a commencement for quilts? We celebrate their ending, their finishing, the last stitch. But are we really celebrating the ritual of folding away of a set of squares (or in this case) poppies, and moving it out of the way? Those unique blues that I collected all one year, that particular dye lot and color which was found everywhere, and now, nowhere — so I hoard and treasure and measure the pieces of it I am using. For when it is gone, it is gone. Is this the same as the ending of a high school education? The finishing of a quilt? The end of a season?

And from the same book:

“David K. Reynolds, who had, in the early 1980s, come up with a system he called Constructive Living, a Western combination of two different kinds of Japanese psychotherapies, one based on getting people to stop using feelings as an excuse for their actions and the other based on getting people to practice gratitude. The latter therapy has its roots in a philosophy called Naikan, developed by Ishin Yoshimoto. Naikan reminds people to be grateful for everything. If you are sitting in a chair, you need to realize that someone made that chair, and someone sold it, and someone delivered it—and you are the beneficiary of all that. Just because they didn’t do it especially for you doesn’t mean you aren’t blessed to be using it and enjoying it. The idea is that if you practice the Naikan part of Constructive Living, life becomes a series of small miracles, and you may start to notice everything that goes right in a typical life and not the few things that go wrong” (ibid, 211-212).

So as my husband (chief Quilt Holder) and I took the quilt down to be photographed at what we call the Butterfly Alley, we repeated a few rituals: get the quilt-holding sticks with the clamps, determine if the light is right, find a parking place and watch people’s faces as we unfurl a hand-made quilt in an urban setting, wait for the wind to die down, and take the photos (with lots of “up on the left — the other left!”).

So maybe the commencement of a quilt is a beginning of sorts. We have our rituals for this process: labels, photos, blog post. We fold up the extra blocks and tuck them away. We clean up the cutting area, and perhaps, as Yoshimoto intimates (above) that we find stray moments of gratitude. We are grateful for our tools. We are grateful for the colorful cloth. We are grateful that we have a wonderful community of quilters, of friends, of people who understand the need for quilt stores, quilt shows, and quilts. My quilting life has been a series of small miracles, full of so many things that have gone right.

Like a quilt of poppies in a field of French blue–


Quilt Number 290 • 77″ high x 61″ wide • Started May 2024 and Finished July 2024
Setting Inspired by Anne Deister of SpringLeaf Studios

A Butterfly Alley butterfly, made from scraps of tin cans from a local restaurant.

The painting at the top of the post is Robert Vonnoh’s Coquelicots, from 1890.

300 Quilts · New York Beauties · Patterns by Elizabeth of OPQuilt

New York Beauties: Old Friend

New York Beauties is like an old friend: we’ve hung out together, we’ve been sad together, happy together, goofed off together, and are now celebrating together a milestone: this flimsy is finished.

I cut the yellow borders 5 1/4″ because I couldn’t decide between 5″ or 5-and-a-half-inches. So many seams! I found it easier to lift up the seams on the outside curves, and not sew those down. When I couldn’t do that, oh well.

This view always appeals to me: New York Beauties stained-glass. I put it up after our dinner, and waited for the sun to go down, for that golden hour.

Now it will go away for a while to quilting purgatory, as I’ve decided to quilt it myself and I’ve got two in line ahead of it.

As it has hung up on my design wall for the last little bit, I’m kind of in love with it. Yes, I can see all the flaws, but I can also see all the beauty. My sister posits that the spikey part of the design might have been inspired by this lady:

This, from a project in my very first digital art class, long long ago. I looked up the block origins and the sources are crickets on where it started, but, that crown! I’m going to go with my sister’s idea, I think.

I had to design/make one more block to get this quilt top to gel. Here it is, a freebie:

You’ll need to download the other free block, Wild Sunflower, to get that outer corner piece. I just couldn’t cram one more piece in here, and I knew you are all resourceful and can figure out how to go to the Main New York Beauties page, or if that fails, head to my pattern shop where I sell the full pattern, if you want to start a relationship with your New York Beauties quilt. But take it slowly at first, while you get your sea legs. For it was Shakespeare himself who noted that “To climb steep hills / Requires slow pace at first” (Henry VIII, Act I, Scene 2, Line 128). On that New York Beauties tab are lots of posts, with lots of tips and hints. One a month might be a good rhythm at first, but towards the end you may want to speed it up. You know how it goes.

There were times I didn’t think I’d ever finish this. Learning how to make it with freezer paper speeded up the process, but so many seams. So many pieces. But what a lovely outcome, hanging from my wisteria vines on a sultry summer evening. This photo shoot took a while, and I savored every minute. I’ve worked with this quilt for a long while, and we’ve become companionable. As I’ve read other people’s blogs, I have noticed this feeling with their long-term quilts. Yes, fast quilts are fun, but there’s something about spending time with one project over many months, savoring the stitches.

Happy Summer’s Eve, everyone.

300 Quilts · New York Beauties · Patterns by Elizabeth of OPQuilt

Double Header for New York Beauties: Remembrance (6) and Waking (7)

Okay, think on that quote for a while. Found while doomscrolling (is that one word, or two?) on Instagram, I wanted to read the whole article, but then I’d have to buy a subscription to the Atlantic. Which may still be worth it, since I have an “open” slot for subscriptions since the QuiltMania magazines sadly left us.

I opened with this because I’ve been a beginner all the way along on these New York Beauties. I mean, since I been sewing for about a bazillion years, I feel like I can tackle most anything except upholstering sofas, especially since I’ve watched *those* videos, too, and while they make it look easy, it’s a whole different set of tools.

But I have had fun with all twelve blocks. I did four blocks as a free giveaway a couple of years ago, then decided that THIS WAS THE YEAR to finally finish them all. As of today, in this moment, I have completed them. Since I have loaded up the beginning posts with scads of photos, and I don’t need to teach the freezer paper method anymore, here are the last two blocks in one post: Block #6, Remembrance, and Block #7, Waking.

Block 6: Remembrance

I colored and re-colored the block #6, as I wasn’t really too fond of what I’d done in the past.

I ended up with this one: a little ombre effect through the wedges (background) on the first two sets of rays, and then a jolt at the outside with that bright lemon-yellow. All the colors are identified in Painter’s Palette solids from Paintbrush Studios (and I purchase them from Keepsake Quilting, to just give you all the info.) You can download the color sheet for free, on the pattern. Look for Preview just under the title/buttons.

I started with the outside, one night (which explains the lighting on these photos). I’m showing how I press to the dark, when freezer paper-piecing. In photo 1, I pull the paper back, only slightly. Smack that seam with the iron (2), then smooth the freezer paper back into place (3). In (4) I’ve pressed down the next section, ready to go.

Block 2, in the Master Page of New York Beauties, gives really concrete directions on how to use freezer paper, if you are interested.

Happy little things, aren’t they? And happily you only have to make TWO of this block, but it’s the most complex, with three rows of rays/wedges. Do one set a day, and don’t wear yourself out.

I know in the basic pattern I tell you to tape together the two-part rays of this enterprise before sewing, but really, you don’t need to. Just make them separately, then sew them together at the end (moving the paper out of the way, of course).

Oh, if you can’t play around with the shapes, what fun is this anyway? The ombré background for the smallest set goes dark-light-dark, which is the opposite of the middle rays (light-dark-light). You can see how I marked a-b-c in the photos just above (trying to keep myself on track — I only had to unpick it once).

For a fun photo, I overlapped the two blocks. This feels EPIC!

Block 7: Waking

Here we go. I saved one of the easier ones for last. Make five of this block. I became nervous last night: did I count correctly? Here’s my cheat sheet:

I’m okay, in fact I made an extra somewhere…

I cut out and marked the quarters of the bands, center and outside corner.

I sewed the band on the center. (I love the colors periwinkle and lemon yellow together.)

This is to remind you to crease on the lines one way, then the other way (reverse fold) (forwards-backwards) (I don’t know how to describe this, but every line gets creased twice).

In the first photo, I am trimming the full 1/4-inch past the folded freezer paper to set myself up for the next step. I add the next piece behind the assembly (see the link above for more detailed instructions), stitch alongside the freezer paper fold, then I trim that one to a scant 1/4-inch. I like a little less bulk.

Trim. Trim. Then play:

Now get to sewing those parts together.

Mega Space Molly keeps watch from the windowsill.

Press, then trim down to 9 1/2″ square.

Maybe you didn’t catch the other new kid on the block: Ocean Gleam, Block four.

I simply updated the blog post for that one from a couple of years ago. Those of you who aren’t making New York Beauties might be saying, okay, enough, what else do you have in that messy sewing room of yours? So I didn’t make a separate post.

All twelve, pasted in. There is a Bonus Block in the pattern, but I’m happy with these. I’m going to celebrate the 4th of July holiday, then maybe I’ll start figuring out how I want to sew these all together. But for now, they’ll rest easy, eye candy all around.

Here was the original pillow cover, from long ago. Now there will be a quilt!