Sketchbooks

If I have a favorite studio item, it is my sketchbooks.  They are filled with ideas, creative rumblings of things realized, or things only half-formed.  Ways of remembering, of re-thinking old ideas through the lens of many more years of learning until the old becomes new.  Though they will never win awards for beauty, in my eyes, they are beautiful beyond description.

So many are ones I made-- and these seem to be the most fun to work in, the ones I fill and over-fill with little drawings, maps, glued, stapled, stitched or taped bits of paper or color chips, fabric and thread; punched holes in the sides of pages for collecting thread or yarn or fabric strips-- These are the brightest part of the bookshelf.

Recently, I went through the excruciating week-long exercise of organizing the bookcases in the studio.  Half way through, there was no daylight in this tunnel, but I am glad I kept at it and chose not to simply shove the books back in place.  I would like to say it was such a beneficial bit of work that I will do it once a year . . .  However,  I think my cue will be when I KNOW I have something on those shelves, but CANNOT find it!  To safeguard the most important things, all the sketchbooks are on one place, now.  Or, in two cases and spilling into the third.

I do not mean to disparage the commercially made sketchbooks because they have their place-- actually, many places-- on the bookshelf.  They are often immensely practical because of their spiral binding, but are sometimes not so interesting from the outside, especially if the covers are hard book boards that do not want to bend as they are packed full of ephemera.  This packing process leads to their morphing into wedge-shaped books that resemble over-filled laundry bins.  Fitting them on the bookshelf is like trying to close the suitcase that is packed for a month of travelling when it was only designed to hold a weekend of clothes.  A future project, maybe for a week of snow or sub-freezing temperatures, would be to go through them and make them less cumbersome, divide up the contents into several smaller . . .

All of this book talk is leading up to the point that the Knoxville FreeStylers and the Atlanta SWAT (Stitching With A Twist) group are taking up sketchbooking in 2017, and we have been making our own books, for starters.  That way the pages are whatever paper we desire, any size, shape, have soft, malleable covers with pockets for stuffing with interesting notes or found objects, or even for the mundane task of holding pens or pencils . . .  To this end, we are customizing our sketchbooks.  Mine range from the elegant, soft-covered single-signatures in pouches made of embroidered silk or linen, to the basic workhorses, with soft covers made from fabric-covered pellon or stiff hand-made paper, both with varying kinds of closures.  The pouch books are purse-sized travelling companions, especially nice because the pouches are refillable as the sketchbooks are used, and the filled books go on the studio shelf for future reference.

The volumes are home to ideas spilled through numbers of books that I think of as places to muse on paper, a collection of wonderings.  I go through them when I'm in need of inspiration, and that is when the old ideas start to arrange themselves into new books on a single subject.  The major collecting starts with the single-subject-book, thread samples, cloth, colored sketches, dimensions that will or won't work, stitch sampling . . .  Oh, my goodness, but what fun the gathering-in process becomes!  Ursula Le Guin says it best:  "When action grows unprofitable, gather information; when information grows unprofitable, sleep."

Black Floss on Cotton

I embarked on an enormous journey of discovery and endurance with this piece, never thinking I would actually stitch the entirety of the 10" x 18" cloth.  My style is to make smaller, more intimate pieces.  After I had gotten bored, I reasoned, I would remove the piece from the frame, cut the work away and fold what was left of the multi-processed cloth and move on to something else.  To this end, I set out to try some different ways of doing a few things with simple, expressive stitches.  Instead of becoming bored, the challenge became so absorbing I couldn't put it down, and I worked weeks and weeks with the magic that was happening on the rectangle.

It is a study in lines, and to that end I used a single strand of black cotton floss.  I wanted to see how much energy short, dotted lines might have.  And then there was the idea of bending a longer line by keeping it under tension rather than Couching the slack thread with two needles.  Or, what if the circles were stitched as loose Detached Chains and tied down to make rough circles of many sizes and shapes?  Is it possible to get a certain depth of perception with a tiny Straight Stitch by changing the compression, working dense stitches that graduated to a little more breathing space?  Could I really do this without using even one of my favorite little spot stitches, the French Knot?  Is there personality possible in a Square Chain Stitch?  And on and on it went, more questions, more answers.

If you've ever seen geology texts where the artist has drawn beautiful illustrations of earth strata, subducting plates, layers of sediment under pressure, conglomerate rocks-- this is where the idea started, buried in my twin loves of earth science and pen and ink drawings.  My husband sees an aerial landscape here.  It is hard to say which explanation I prefer, but in the end, the piece speaks in a different language to every viewer.

A word about the fabric:  This is a soft, loosely woven cotton.  I rusted it, washed it, buried it in the garden for a week, dug it up and washed it again and decided it would do as a mop-up cloth for a painting session.  The color in the lower part of the piece is from spilled dyes and cleaned paint brushes.  More washing.  Nothing was planned, and when I last washed it I thought it might make a good lining cloth for other projects.  I've used several smaller cuts from the cloth in stitched pieces over the past several years.

This thin, loose cotton is lined with four layers of linen, including worn napkins and a piece of linen left over from dress-making eons ago (how's that for responsible re-use of materials?).  The back of the work is almost as interesting as the front-- there are times I can't decide which side to show and which to put against the wall!

Starry Night

This is a little piece that wouldn't stay within the 4" square I meant for it.  It is an example of my starting something that simply had a mind of its own, and then hanging on as it galloped  off in another direction.

The fabric is linen I dyed, and the threads are a mix of hand and commercially dyed cottons and silks.  A little white-painted bowl sat on the worktable with the brightly-colored skeins tumbled together as I stitched and planned and listened to the story the threads were chatting about as the lines and shapes unfolded under my fingers.  Working with intense colors is always quite stimulating, but to add to the mood of creativity I listened to the soundtrack of BFG as the stitching progressed.  How could anything stay sedate and perfectly mannerly with John Williams' delightful music filling the studio?

And that is how all of these little images came to dwell here: stars, even a little block of fallen stars, a blackberry "briar" patch, river road, tracks, foliage . . .  Ethan shares my passion for blue and green, so this will be my subject for our writing club meeting this afternoon.  The children write their stories, Grandmother stitches hers.  The children read their lovely written works, Grandmother tells hers and accepts the children's excited interruptions the way historians add footnotes to the body of their data.  What better way to spend the after-homework-is-done moments of an afternoon in the studio?

And yes, Beth Ralph, you are entirely right about the way the story should be matted and framed rather than stretched over a small wooden stretcher the way I usually do these pint-sized pieces.  Isn't Show 'N Tell the best part of FreeStyle?

Feathers by the water

The story of this piece is one of wondering, "What if . . . ?"

It started off innocently enough, a weaving in a variety of yarns and thread, then the idea of weaving feathers into the story changed everything . . .

Once the feathers were in place, weaving the last part of the piece was impossible.  The feathers changed the story, and I left off working on this for weeks, waiting for the rest of the idea to form.  That was when Sherry Mayfield suggested that I not continue weaving at the bottom of the little hand loom, but to ease the piece down the empty warp and work from the new middle toward the top.

After I had moved the weaving and feathers down, it seemed a shame to do something common to it, like weaving with ordinary (or, in my case, semi-ordinary) materials.  Instead, I made a fabric sandwich of silk paper, a scrap from a vintage handkerchief, a cutting of old linen, and covered it with silk chiffon and a small strip of more silk paper.  This was the point of initial stitching, straight stitches using a high-sheen cotton floss in horizontal lines.

When it all held together fairly well, I began weaving the embroidered block into the open warp.  That called for more stitching to secure the embroidered sandwich to the piece (or the sandwich to the warp).  For this I used silk, a pale blue Spun Silk with Flame thread from Stef Francis.   These new silk straight stitches were all done in vertical lines in contrast with the cotton.  The vintage cotton yo-yo looks on the scene with kindly interest.

Three days of intensive stitching and assessing the progress of the piece followed.  With a deep breath (carefully, carefully) I cut the piece from the loom, then began weaving the warp ends into the stitching behind the fabric sandwich.  Next came a strip of "eyelash" from Tentakulum (Painter's Threads) near the bottom and above the feathers, and stitching the little reeds in shades of indigo silk.

I believe it is done.  When I look at it I find no adjectives or adverbs in need of changing, so the story is complete.  I have never inserted a stitched cloth, large or small, into a weaving before this, but as I consider the possibilities this is a mixing of techniques quite worth exploring.  The warp threads that are left on the front of the work are the most challenging feature for future experimentation.  Thank you Sherry, for encouraging me to look at this piece differently!

A closer look at the stitched/fabric sandwich weaving:

Now, if I can keep from touching it long enough to consider mounting and presentation . . .

UPDATE on the Feathers:  Poor feathers!  One was lost in moving it about . . . I think it is time to think of a resuscitation (yet again),  as one has been lost.  Or, I should simply move on, put this hexed piece in a studio journal and note it is not something to be tried again.

*Sigh*

Summer Map-making

Maps are not always flat little things with lines and letters and numbers.  Sometimes they can show us the way in and out with stitches and silk thread on scraps of hand-dyed silk noil.

Dreamscape

The ladder that seems to reach into a befuddled sky . . .

Two summer strolls

In a little park, strolling, and thinking about . . .

Turquoise beads and a scrap of fringed green fabric.

The threads and I considered how many different ways we could color kid glove leather, the threads were of the opinion that the leather could NEVER be as nuanced and subtle as they.   Because it was growing late, I did not answer.  But the next day I spent a lot of time working on putting color on smooth, thin, kid leather.

Number Game(s)

Layering, appliqué, hand and machine stitch, hand-dyed fabrics . . 

Below, tiny scraps of hand-dyed linen are cobbled together by some system known only to the numbers.

Woven ThoughtSomely

Woven on a hand loom with the colors of the summer-cum-autumn in mind. 

This was inspired by Sandra's program at the May FreeStyle Meeting, weaving on small looms.  She and Cynthia made some small looms from foam core to get us started, and suddenly we were off and running!  Once I had my "weaving fingers" back I had the feeling I had come to familiar terrain.  Later that same week I started this piece on a small hand-held loom I bought several years ago on Etsy.  The wonderfully colorful threads are left-overs from my weaving days, as well as some silks from the hand dyeing I did last fall.  The contrast of rough and smooth textures made interesting lines.

I used a large high-castle loom for so many years that working on a rigid heddle loom of any size starts out very slowly.  Growing a cloth from rows of empty warp to a finished cloth is an absorbing form of zen, and I am always surprised when I glance up and see the hours that have passed.  Then it's time to stretch and have a little walk through the garden . . .

Small Glimpse

Sometimes an idea and I wrestle together in the studio.  The wrestling takes many forms:  I carry the difficult piece to other places to see it in a different light; I will often try something that is absolutely wrong simply to get some movement on the idea; or in the end I take a deep breath and cut the piece apart.  

This ground was a large (remember who's writing here) woven piece built up from from strips of linen and silk.  Maybe the size of the original froze the blood in my fingers.  I don't know.  But when I cut the larger piece apart, there was instant understanding and new direction, even a bit of fun in adding more layers to the back of the ground for more stability.  The cutting resulted in a stack of 2" (approximately) squares.

From the change of direction came a glimpse of tree, water, and sun.  Just a glimpse.  It came on a day when I needed to have a pink and blue tree in my afternoon. 

Blue Wood

This from the winter-- the threads and I were chatting about how silly it was to always think of trees as grey or black and having green leaves . . .  It all depends on your operating location-- in or out of the box.

Spring Musings

An examination of spring colors, spring fragility-- these two pieces have surfaces of silk over layers of hand-dyed silks and linens.  

The first is on a firm ground of so many layers I lost count as it was being assembled.  The silk chiffon over the top of all was dyed, spottily so.  But it was the spottiness that gave the center pink area more interest.  The green danglies are there because it reminded me of the texture of the spring as it just comes into being.

Here is a different look at the spring.  The small piece is worked in hand on a very thin ground of (mostly) transparent silks and little snips of linen and a dyed lace.  The tree was made separately was slipped under the chiffon before being stitched in place.  A bit of hand-dyed linen defines the ground and left of the landscape, but the tree itself still dominates the scene because of the full bushiness of its branches and foliage, even covered.  The beads are trying to tame everything, but you know how difficult it can be to tame a spring day.  Held up to the light, it changes character, in that mysterious way light has of transforming colors. 

Zen Moment

A truly zen moment in the studio while working on this small piece.  In layers, with silk chiffon for softening the scene.  The threads and I were taking a short walk to clear our heads, and the cloth scraps came quietly along.

Marks on Fabric: Blocks 1 and 2, et al.

One of a series of blocks where I experimented with leather to make marks rather than using stitches or dyes.

The second block uses antique silk, tucks, thread marks, and vintage wrapped circles from Battenburg Lace.

The third block is what I think of as a conglomerate, done several years ago when I was studying Gwen Hedley's work.  The base is layered scraps, making the most of the translucence of the silks as overlays, tying all together with a single color of the most simple stitches.

Thinking About New Directions

I got a glowing report from the doctor this morning at my 6 week check-up.  Still using a cane, but I have good range of motion and the incision is healing well (thank-you, Vitamin E Oil).  I can actually look at my knee, now, and not have to shut my eyes and pretend that leg belongs to someone else.

So now it's time to think about new projects.  And the one that has moved from the back to front of the queue is to re-make some of the clothes hanging in my closet.  Most particularly, linen shifts and jumpers from the 1990s.  With a little judicious cutting and hemming, it is quite easy to make a tunic from a linen shift.  And a few new pieces might be had from old skirts . . .

Fabric is fabric.  It doesn't know it has been designated as a skirt, top, jacket, or coat.  It just IS.  Time to move these pieces on to their next chapters.  I remember as a child my mother made my youngest sister a beautiful gathered silk skirt.  When she outgrew it, Mother used the fabric to make curtains for the bathroom.  And then she washed the curtains and passed them on to me.  I made a lovely silk blouse from the fabric that I wore for years and years.  Is it possible that I have this deeply-embedded idea of repurposing in my genes?

Update on Surgery

Two weeks ago yesterday I was just beginning this journey.  Today I am wrestling with physical therapy, but with a great deal of loving support and hard work from my husband, the two of us are making our way through all of this.  The television commercials make this all seem so easy . . . ???

I look forward to some stitch time this afternoon.  It is nice to contemplate how much nicer life will be in one month.  Two months.  Thinking about the deep summer and how nice it will be to have passed this stage brings a smile.

Keep up the stitching!

We are never too old to learn something new.

There is still the possibility to be surprised from the surgery, I discovered when all the damage to the joint did not show up in the X-ray.  Once the surgeon got into the knee, he discovered the Tibia to have been pitted with cysts.  He was able to drain and fill the cysts with new material.  He needed to find a suitable and stable place to anchor the pin/screw that holds the bottom of the new knee in place, and so used a longer-than-normal pin for that part of the procedure.

Is this TMI?

Deja Vu

On my way to becoming a Bionic Woman, I am off to get another joint replaced next week.  I will not bore you with the details of all this, but will be back when it is possible to resume a studio life.  Meanwhile: be well, kiss all the little babies you see, and stitch boldly and joyfully.  Always joyfully.

Julie's Birthday: Ethan's Felted Flowers

This is another post that could not be put up until after the event, but I share the details with you because I am so proud of my eight-year old grandson.  Grandmothers can be silly ladies, sometimes, but I think his work is quite noteworthy.

Ethan has not done any felting for a long time, and I was surprised when he said he would like to make his mom a felted picture for her birthday.  He planned this piece out on the ride home from school on a Friday afternoon.  The colors were first.  He knew he wanted a purple background, and then the color of the vase. After going through the color wheel with its complementary colors and a few just for "pop," he decided on yellow.  By the time we'd had our snack and cleaned up the dishes, he had an image in his head of the piece he would make.

First afternoon's work:  ground cloth and vase with greenery.

After I cut him a purple-dyed piece of scrim for the base (he immediately asked for a 6" x 6" size, which will match his other two pieces), he went to the purple bin of roving and chose the deep, royal shade and began to draw the wool into long, thin streamers and laying it across the wispy fabric.  I cut him a piece of netting to use as a top for holding the batt together as he machine-felted.  He worked slowly, meticulously, and gave great attention to making the base even and flat.  He was so competent with the machine that I was able to work between himself and Bethy, who was picking her favorite beads from jars and bowls of them spread on the embroidery table nearby.

At each step, he asked for me to check his work before going on to the next.  He understood that we were building back-to-front, from background to vase then the leaves followed by flowers, so with that order in mind, the little guy worked very precisely.  Julie came to pick them up just as he was beginning to think of the flowers, so everything lay exactly as he left it, to be continued Monday afternoon when he has completed his homework.

Second afternoon's work:  flowers.

Together we sketched several ideas, and he developed three flower ideas from them.  Then, to the metallic thread case for the colors, and he was off.  I showed him a new stitch, the detached chain ("Lazy Daisy"), and he tried this on the blue flower, again on the orange.  On the red, he changed to straight stitch petals.  After one more assessment, the vase needed a touch more yellow roving, and he passed the finished piece to me.  Well, I thought, almost finished.  One more step.

Third afternoon's work:  wet felting.

To really finish a piece of needle-felted cloth, my personal opinion is that it should be wet-felted.  This neatens and tightens up the edges, which can go wild and wooly in a heartbeat with the embellisher, and it smoothes the surface and softens the punched look of the roving.  To that end, we worked in the kitchen and I showed him how to do this.  The folks at HeartFelt Silks Fiber Art Tools on Etsy make a palm washboard that is perfect for this kind of finishing.  I found it after I despaired of ever being able to wet-felt again when my hands began to change and draw up, and it is a wonderful tool.  Ethan and the beautifully-crafted wooden board are a perfect pair for this work.

When we had shocked the little square in hot and cold water, felted it some more, washed it and then did it all over again, it was time for the ten minutes in  the dryer that is the "finishing touch" for the surface.  Just a few more steps, now . . .

Creating the card was a lot of fun for him.  He worked at the drafting table with  jars of colored pencils to create a birthday card that was "still under construction."  Bulldozers and trucks are busily pushing and dropping the "Happy Birthday" letters in place.  He even included a note as to why the card was in the construction phase-- the workmen were out to lunch!

Such happy times in the studio with his booming little voice making announcements of his progress and asking occasional questions!  Why are he and Bethy growing up so fast?

Julie's Birthday: Bethy's Beads and Sparklies!

From my friend Cynthia's post about Driftwood and Glass Beads here, Bethy was inspired to start a little project making sun catchers.  In fact, when I showed her the post, her face lit up and she became immediately excited.  With her mom's birthday coming up the first week of February, this sparkly project seemed perfectly right to brighten the January brown and rainy grey around us.  And there was the snow . . .

First afternoon:  Getting started.

I drilled holes in a piece of driftwood (from a large basket of small, interesting pieces I found in Etsy seller DriftwoodAmour's shop) while she finished her homework on Thursday,  After that she was on to the bead selection process.  While I normally use small seed beads (sizes 11˚ and 15˚)  and their equally small cousins (Rocailles, 3mm bugles, pearls and anything else small and interesting) in my embroidery, I have accumulated some larger ones along the way just because they are beautiful.  I showed Bethy where to find the jars and bottles holding those larger faceted crystals and drops and twisted bugles, and she arranged them in little crescent-shaped "bone china" dishes and bowls so she could make a better selection.  We even found a pink Owl bead that delighted her, because her mom is fond of owls.  That left only the lovely "job" of stringing the beads together.  We have four weeks.  We can do this!

Second afternoon:  The Sun Catcher is taking shape.

By Friday, she was really into the swing of it.  Unfortunately, playing with the beads became almost as interesting as selecting them for the seven dangling strands.  But by the time Julie came to pick them up that afternoon, Bethy was working on the sixth strand.  She is so serious as she works, but in a happy way.  When I sit beside her, she is talking to the beads, singing to them, asking them questions and telling them little stories.  How wonderful to be nine years old ("I'm almost ten, you know," she will sometimes say)!

Third afternoon:  Beginning the Birthday Card.

On the following Monday, she finished stringing the main body of the glittery Sun Catcher.   Happy Feet!

Fourth afternoon:  The hanger.

It was not until Thursday that she added the beads to the looped hanger, which might have been her favorite part of the process.  The beads are glass leaves and differently-sized seed beads that wind around the handle like a colorful vine.

The next step was to start the birthday card for her mom, which she will finish in the weeks leading up to the event.  Cards are a huge, very thoughtful endeavor on her part, and they sometimes take hours and hours to finish-- real little gems (forgive my punning!).  They always have a little story, and are so sweetly illustrated.

What a privilege it is to be part of her life!

The Color Books

Once upon a time, I kept color books.  Not Coloring Books, but books arranged by color content.  These books are small, landscape formats (about 5" x 7") that I used for saving clips of work, paint chips, and notes on associations of colors.  Pinned or stapled to the pages are little stitched samples of an idea or color combination.

One of the things I discovered with working in these books is that no matter how well thought out a painted color might be, it is only paint on paper.  Despite careful thread choices, the only choices I really have are what is in my thread box, what the manufacturer has made available.  Eventually I began dyeing my own fabric and thread, and though I might design with color families in mind, I don't strive frustratingly to match anything I've painted or inked in or set so immovably in my design plan.

After coming to these dismaying conclusions, I began working less and less in the books, and since they are mostly stuffed beyond disturbing with new material, they remain as they are, an experiment.  When I went through them last evening with an eye to working with a particular color scheme, I  stopped and photographed some of the little sampling bits there.  Doodles.  Questions answered-- I still don't have a name for these little pieces.

One of my favorites is in the red book, a compilation of scraps from clothes-making over the years.  Mother used to sew, to create her own clothes.  She was a marvelous seamstress as well as designer, but she had no career opportunity other than housewife.  She taught her daughters to sew, and the lessons (mostly) stuck.  We were certainly well-dressed children!  And I was lucky enough to fall heir to her fabric scraps when she would do a clean-out.  This little compilation has an apple cut from scraps of one of the last blouses she made for herself, little ruffled pants for Bethy, a blouse for me . . .

Another is from the Violet Book, an exercise on the theme of "portals:"

Layers of fabric and stitch have a textural appeal for me that has been a subject of exploration for years.  When I discovered scrim, however, my stitching life took a marvelous new turn.

And so forth.  Studio Journals, Sketchbooks or even notebooks are such useful things to construct-- to say nothing of the fun of working quite freely without the pressure of preparing work for others to see.  They stimulate exploration of an idea in its initial form, and years later those ideas can be a way of seeing something very differently, of starting off in another direction altogether.  My personally favorite part of the studio is the wall of bookcases with the shelves of studio journals!  Of course, the other books and magazines are interesting, too.  My first stop when starting a new work, though, is always the studio journal cases.

Birthday Garden

For my sister, who has a marvelous green thumb, an on-the-wall garden to see her through the winter until her spring bulbs begin pushing up.  Layers of fabric and stitch in a wide assortment of weights . . .  modeled on a garden not far from us that is laid out in orderly rows and beds of color.

Happy Birthday, Baby Sister!

A young poet in the family

Bethy is always experimenting with words, rhyming, thinking up beautiful stories and sometimes illustrating them.  After school one afternoon, she stood beside me (at the computer) and recited her latest poem as I typed it.  With her permission, I share this with you.

School Week

Monday moans,

Tuesday groans,

Wednesday: weirdness.

Thursday, thorns.

Fantastic Friday

(the only good one)

Saturday scores,

Sunday stings--

And Monday moans and

Groans

Again

--Bethany Patsios

Nine and three-quarters years old

I think she has totally captured the school and work week experience.

Blog Inspiration: Mandy Pattullo

Have you ever had a favorite artist whose work inspires you to improve your own creative process?  Or, maybe to investigate things you hadn't considered before?  Mandy Pattullo is one of those inspiring people to me.  I do not have her sketching skills, nor do I work with some of the materials she uses, but her love of old fabric and stitch and the dignity she gives in her transformations of these pieces is such a person.

For the month of January she began working with postage stamps, filling a sketchbook with paint, paper and cloth, and it made me think about my own box of postage stamps, collected over the years-- and how dwindling the availability of these stamps becomes as we e-mail more or send things through carriers rather than the postal service.  I pulled out the packed-to-the-gills box and marveled at these little works of art, just as I had when I was ten years old.  And if I was a cartoon, I would have had a little conversation bubble over my head with a lightbulb clicking on:  Bingo!

The Bingo Moment came when I realized that the diminutive size was perfect for the palm-sized fabric collages I was working on.  I needed a focal point that had great detail to it, and it must be quite small.  A piece of printed fabric was not to scale, and the pieces were too small to create easily-recognized images.  And there were so many colors stored in those tiny bits of paper . . .

The pieces are built in my little fabric sandwich style, layered and stitched work that might be layers of hand-dyed pieces from old napkins and tablecloths, pieces of clothing, things left over from other projects-- even the threads were often re-cycled by over-dyeing when I had an abundance of one color or another.  The edges might be finished or not, depending on the fabric itself.  The unfinished edge is a way of giving immediacy to a piece, like a quick sketch from a vacation or a walk in the woods.

If you would like to see Mandy's work, her blog is here.  Below are two of the pieces her postage stamp collages inspired me to create.  Now that the gate has been unlatched, this may go on for a while . . .  lots of stamps . . .  tons of fabric scraps . . .  long winter days ahead . . .  ? ? ?

Thank you, Mandy!

Inspired by - Carol Ann Waugh

From a book I borrowed called Stupendous Stitching, by Carol Ann Waugh, I was inspired to use machine and hand stitch together to make this Zentangle piece.  It was a bit of fun, since I have not really completely explored the decorative stitch patterns on the Sapphire the way I have the older Viking.  Keeping the pallet limited to golds and turquoise helped, so the only choices were the texture of the thread on the hand stitched segments.

Thanks to Sherry for encouraging the Freestylers to use our stitches in "tangling" ways, reminiscent of a zentangle.  And thank you, Jill, for loaning me the book!

Hello, 2016!

My goodness!  When I was a little girl in school, I couldn't imagine how people would "say" the numbers after 1999.  It was so far away and there were so many things to worry about before school the next day . . .  And yet, today, I'm how many years into that foreign territory?

Welcome, New Year.  With all your gifts and losses, we welcome you.