300 Quilts

Build Me a Cabin • Quilt Finish

I hate cautionary tales, but this quilt is certainly one of them. I mean, it wasn’t meant to be — I just wanted a clean-lined easy-to-stitch quilt, with a bit of impact, but then I decided to quilt it with the new Insight Table on my Handiquilter Sweet Sixteen.

That new mechanism — two sensors embedded in the table determine the stitch length — really helped in some places. My stitches in long runs were nice and even.

But in one area where I was trying a close serpentine pattern, the machine’s stitching would be perfect on the straight runs, but when I needed to slow down to make the turn to the next run, the sensors thought I wasn’t quilting, so I’d get big globby stitches on the ends. (No, I am not showing you.)

I called the Tech people (one company where you can still reach a human — hooray!) but then they switched me to some rando “education person” who then drilled me on the basics of a machine I’ve been using for several years. It made me wonder: do I sound like an idiot? Hmmmm.

I should have just stiched-in-the ditch on all the parts, but noooooo, I wanted a fancy design of budding leaves on this log cabin block. I like the design enough but where I would have been able to travel atop stitching lines before, and because I picked a high-contrast thread that showed every mistake (maybe I am an idiot), I ended up burying about a zillion threads. Waaaah. I like how the back looks (below) and I generally like the quilt, but I ended up unpicking the entire center section and redoing it in a thread that settled into the color that was there.

For those who don’t know, this quilt is a riff on the Log Cabin block (and is quilt number 288).

Often I remember to take a photo of the date I started cutting. And…often I don’t, but here’s this quilt’s date marker. I’d spend many hours on the designing of this, so it’s not the most *accurate* start date, but close-enough.

Trying out designs. Christine Perrigo opened up my eyes to breaking out of the obvious quilting routines; she passed away this year, and it’s incredibly sad the world has lost a quilting pioneer. Two, actually, for Ruth McDowell also passed away. As the regular readers know, for me — this past two years — death has been “inescapable,” as my sister described it. I am trying to learn how to fold it into the fabric of my life, instead of confronting it as it flattens me like a ribbon in its wake. I certainly miss the baby shower stage of life, and the bridal shower stage of life. Another friend died recently, and I was able to sit through the entire funeral this time. (Progress?)

Back to the machine: maybe that’s why I picked out all those stitches, because getting a better stitch path was certainly the most do-able thing I could focus on, but in the end, I won’t be entering this in any quilt shows.

Truths:
Not every quilt hits the mark.
Not every quilter has a great day.

It’s still a great quilt, and after the complicated New York Beauties, it feels like a sort of palate cleanser, readying me for what’s up next: more quilting.

Joy Harjo gave me something to think about in her poem, “For Calling the Spirit Back from Wandering the Earth in Its Human Feet:”

No regrets. Just keep going forward.

Now available as a discounted pattern until mid-August. Download and have fun!

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!

300 Quilts · New York Beauties

Blooming • Block 5 • New York Beauties

I don’t know. Maybe she’s right.

Annie Dillard, in The Writing Life, says “how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour and that one is what we are doing.”

It was a hard week, with me unable to sleep one of the nights and in the wee hours, I tried reading until exhaustion. I tried the cup of hot chocolate in a darkened kitchen, looking out at the city lights in the distance. I tried going back to bed and pretending to sleep. I tried designing a quilt, for they are like putting together puzzles and couldn’t that make me sleepy?

I tried more reading until my brain couldn’t focus, then tears and exhaustion and the just worn-out-from tryingness slid me into slumber. I slept in until 9 a.m. when my husband, always the golden light in very dark hours, went with me on a short walk, but it was enough. It was a way to spend an hour that seemed a good way to spend a life. He talked to me about a difficult group meeting I’d had the night before, with hard realizations about my limitations. We talked through all the slights, the snubs, the hurts — the usual sort of stuff that happens when a group of 80 different women get together. We talked about who the true friends were. We walked and talked.

I spent the day in idleness, quiet. We had a simple lunch.

Then in the late light of the afternoon, I picked up this and sewed it together.

Then this. And then it was dinner. When I talked, my voice wavered. Speech can sometimes be too hard. Better to go back to the quiet of stitching. And of course there are always about fourteen things converging all at once: broken expectations of my place in an organization, lingering sorrows from family deaths, missing people who I love, failed assumptions and so on: a heady list. I’m sure you’ve been here. Bad days come for everyone.

In an article I wandered across, I found this comment:

“l’ve gradually come to believe grief is not an episodic event with a beginning and an end, but something indistinguishable from life itself. We may have a brief time in our youth where grief is not part of our daily lives. But otherwise, as humans, we eat, work, sleep and grieve. Grief is not something from which we recover, it’s not a mental illness. It’s as much a part of life as breathing. We are born, and ultimately, we spend our lives letting go. If we are fortunate, we will find moments of joy.”

I returned to myself the next day. I put on a novel and sewed, making space only for the creating, the stitching, the people in the book in my ears, the welcome interruptions from my husband, a simple meal. A luxury, for sure. And after a time, I arrived at this:

Blooming, New York Beauties Block Five. A happy ending of sorts, I think. That scrambled night still needs to be dealt with, as does grief, as do phone calls, and missing phone calls, and doctor appointments, and grocery shopping — all hours that may not make it into a novel, but are my life. The mellow light from this block eased me through a bump (or two) in the road, and I’m ready to go again.


Below are the photos, because by now, you know the drill for the freezer paper construction and if you don’t, scan through the rest of the posts.

I am still failing in many ways in my life, but I am also succeeding. Sometimes the hours spent look like sand slipping through my fingers. Other hours bring me this: intervals of joy.

Hope you find your happy moments this week–

Four colors in this background!