Quilts

Whew!

You know how we feel when we watch an elderly (read: ten years older than my parents) person cross the street, one hesitating step at a time, and there we are in our cars, cheering them on realizing that we are witnessing a tiny heroic moment?

Okay.  Here’s the jump from that metaphor: making a quilt.

And here are some of my tiny steps.

This puzzle shows my pin board, with the last sections of the circles being sewn.  I pull them off, one arc at a time.  I forgot to show paper-piecing instructions, but here’s some of the finishing pictures.

I pin the outside piece to the first arc, then stitch. . .

. . . upside down, with the paper UP.  This is the opposite of what the instructions in the book say, but I found it more helpful to tuck my hand in between the paper-pieced segment and the fabric segment, “pulling” or easing the underneath fabric straight out from the needle, and allowing the paper to dictate my seam allowance.  I don’t go very fast, but have only had one or two puckers in the whole quilt top, so this system must work for me okay.

Then before I rip off all the paper segments (fold back along the stitched line, score with my fingernail, rip), I make a tiny hash mark on the center line, so I can line up the next segment (paper-pieced to fabric).

Here I go again–hand underneath the paper-pieced segment, gently drawing the fabric underneath away from the needle, as I stitch along the paper guidelines.

One of the challenges of this quilt has been controlling the bulk of the seams, as you can imagine.  I finally hit on the system of pressing one segment toward the center, and the next door neighbor segment toward the edge.  Then when they line up, the seam bulk alternates.  Make sure you are consistent all the way around the wheel.  I know there’s that idea about pressing so the wheel looks like it’s floating on top of the pieced background, but I gave up that notion because the bulk was a bigger problem than appearance.

I have to unpick the center stitching lines that are visible just outside the seams.  When paper piecing, I stitched down that line (uneccesary) and now I have a few things to unpick.  But I’m happy with how all the seams are converging in the center.  On the original design (Everyday Best, by Becky Goldsmith and LInda Jenkins), they have dots covering their centers.  I am seriously thinking of leaving those off.

So here it is, as I left it last night: a tiny heroic achievement on the road to the rest of the quilt.

 

Family Quilts · Quilts

Cynthia’s Quilt Done!

Here we are, standing in front of the completed quilt top.  The little yellow papers are to keep track of the rows.

We went off to the quilt shop on Wednesday morning, picked up some fabric for the back, then stopped for a leisurely lunch at In N’ Out Burger.  Back home, we pieced the back together and were at the quilter by 2:15 p.m. to drop off the quilt.  Done!!  It’s a good feeling to get a quilt done from start to finish.  I appreciate her determination–it’s a lovely quilt.  I think of it as Daughter of Blue Quilt. The quilter will mail her the quilt, so we made the binding and rolled it up to travel home to the Chicago area, where she heads this morning.

The quilt is kind of representative of our bond as sisters.  Lots of little patches make a whole quilt and lots of experiences make up a relationship.  This much is an obvious metaphor when looking at a quilt–but I think also that our appreciation of  quilts comes from the time spent with it.  Just like sisters.

I’ve made a quilt with Susan (Crossed Canoes–which was not “for her” but that she made in honor of a friend), and now with Cynthia.  Wonder if Christine, my oldest sister and I will ever do one together?

Quilts

Slow Going

It’s slow going on putting together the arcs.

And slow going on ripping the paper off the arcs.  But the book was right: using parchment paper makes it really much easier–much faster than other paper-pieced projects I’ve done.  Consider it your newest tip.

Since I know we all like to see completed quilts, and now that the semester’s started my sewing life will be abbreviated, here’s the quilt I have hanging in the hallway: Winter’s Branches.

I started this a long time ago–the summer before my husband and I went on sabbatical to Washington DC.  I rolled up the quilt on pin-wall fabric, toted it East.  After finishing it, I had no idea how to quilt it, but at that point, winter came to that part of the country.  I would take photo after photo of the graceful array of leaf-less branches against the winter sky.

I used a variegated rayon thread to stitch tree branches into the blocks.

The label.  I used to make quite elaborate labels and still do for my more artsy quilts.  But for baby quilts, or bed quilts, I now take a fine-tipped marker and write directly on the back somewhere.

Creating · Quilts

Come A-Round Quilt

I’m getting there, piece by piece.

Two quotes from Sister Corita, a famous art teacher.  These are from the book Learning by Heart–Teachings to free the creative spirit, written by Corita Kent and Jan Steward:

When you are not separate from the creative process, time ceases to exist.  You might start to feel tired and suddenly realize that much time has passed.  It isn’t necessarily a happy time–and may be very difficult to start if it is a job or an obligation.  But if you start with all the concrete needs and proceed in a thorough way–the creative process will take over and you will forget whether it is work or play. (page 111)

I have an idea for making something or I have a commission to do something or I have a deadline. . . and I always have a kind of natural resistance to getting down to it.  Somehow I feel that this kind of natural resistance is quite healthy–because all the information, sources, and ideas need cooking before they can be served.  So I go on living and I go on doing what might seem to be very uncreative things like shopping or cooking or washing the dishes or answering the phone or writing letters–and sometimes the data comes out and asserts itself into my consciousness, and I live with it awhile.

Artists, poets–whatever you want to call those people whose job is ‘making’–take in the commonplace and are forever recognizing it as worthwhile. (page 99)

I’ve been stewing over a title for a while.  I think we quilters could use some help on naming our pieces, so I try to be thoughtful, and like Sister Corita, let things stew awhile before deciding.  The quilt title comes from that aphorism “What goes around, comes around,” and we all know what that means.  At the age I am, I see this now more than ever.  If I send out kindness, and good will I tend to get this returned to me from my husband, children, family and friends.  When I am critical, snarky, grumpy–you can bet this comes back too.  And as I sewed these circles and listened to the national debate on whether what was said in angry tones during the fall election had come back around to hurt Gabby Giffords in the Tucson shootings, that piece of information stewed awhile inside as well.

Our quilts are representative of where we are, both in our personal lives and our culture and our nation.  This quilt might be called something else in another place or another time.  I also wanted to play up the idea of circles, so I hyphenated the second word to suggest children’s play, perhaps of coming round to play with a friend, or twirling around on a sunny happy day.