And the lemonade

Amazingly, we have had two blissful days of relative quiet up here on our hill--not as quiet as it was two years ago but a distanced background noise--until this afternoon when the noise levels began to ramp up again. But I did manage to get a lot done during those two days--including rinsing out the contents of those dye buckets from my last post. I will share a few samples with you.

Several of my pieces were overdyes, attempts to rectify a dye job gone bad for some reason or simply another planned layer in a process. I had dyed several gradations of a burgundy a while ago that turned out looking unpleasantly like dried blood and so I added a layer of ultra violet and those pieces came out looking like this:

And I jazzed up a couple of lifeless browns with a little yellow:

I added a green background--the green didn't photograph very well so just imagine this a bit greener--to one of my flour paste crackles and suddenly those lines began to look a little like trees.

I couldn't resist doing another of my lined dyes and made this one vertical:

And I am playing around with these strange little squiggle shapes that I am finding intriguing:

And if you are still with me, thanks for the company!

Making Lemonade--or new fabric

Yesterday I couldn't stand it any more. Gas drilling has taken over our beautiful, rural county and, while I complained about the huge trucks on the roads and the number of fields sprouting bulldozers, water tanks, and drilling rigs and worried constantly about our water supply, I could always retreat to the relative quiet of our hill. Yes, we had wells drilled within hearing distance a year ago but the sound was muffled by hilltops and was only really a problem when all was quiet. But for the past month the pad over the hill has been enlarged to the top of the hill and now machinery noises bouncing off the hills sound like a motor grader is driving back and forth in our driveway.

I didn't realize how much I cherished a quiet space to work in or a quiet walk in our woods with Terra to start my day--they fire up their trucks and graders as soon as it's light out. Unable to work yesterday, I retreated to the basement to dye fabric where the machine noise was not so prominent.

And today I get to see what surprises come out of all my dye buckets and bins. I had a friend once who loved to say, "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." In fact, she said it so often it became really annoying--perhaps that's why the noise surrounding me reminded me of her.  Anyway, making lemonade out of these lemons that life has handed Tioga County is becoming increasingly more difficult.

And if you are still with me, thanks for the company!

Unfamiliar Territory

Finding your way out of a place that is unfamiliar is supposed to stimulate your brain and sharpen your problem-solving skills, and perhaps it draws out that elusive creative spirit. At least that is what a small group of local quilters is putting to the test in a challenge we have given ourselves. We each drew a name of another member of the group and then a few days later presented her with four fat eighths of fabric that were out of her comfort zone. She was then to use at least two of these fabrics in a quilt less than 16 inches square.

Now my comfort zone is clearly delineated since I have been using my own hand-dyes or commercial hand-dyes or batiks for a number of years so I knew some commercial prints were bound to come my way and so they did:

The upper left is a tiny floral and of course there are more flowers in the Asian fabric. That black check is going to really push my limits, but my challenge mate took it easy on me with that beautiful hand-dyed red.  After the first few days of staring stupidly at these four fabrics, I began to try a couple of things and have to admit I'm having fun right now. We'll see how I characterize the process when it is further along. And things could have been much worse.  You can check out what Anya, who loves bright colors, got, but it was hard to challenge Susan, who uses all kinds of fabrics in her quilting. 

And if you are still with me, thanks for the company!

The Emergence of the Butterfly

Now that I am home again and am somewhat recovered from trying to pretend that I can keep up with bottomless energy of a three and a half year old I have put some serious effort into finishing that baby quilt. I had done quite a bit of the quilting and had even finished the machine part of the binding sewing--must have had some premonition that this baby was going to be early--before I left. So I was able to sew the binding down while I was away.

And the quilt looked something like this when I returned:

The butterfly actually had no antennae when I began work.and I had to make two attempts before I got them right. The first was a sparkly black heavy thread that I had begun couching when I realized that the thread was scratchy and a tender little baby cheek would not fare well rubbing against those antennae. But, as often happens when something doesn't work out, I found something better--that soft, fuzzy silk sari yarn. 

I also quilted a spiral shape on the yellow sun circle and added some rays--or petals--around it.

 But I kept being bothered by something. I kept telling myself that this was not an art quilt and that all those embellishments I kept wanting to add would not work on a baby quilt that would be washed and that this quilt needed to be done and sent off so I could get on with other things. Not being able to leave it alone, however, I decided to add another image and finally hit upon something that would be a complement to the lively flight of a butterfly and mirror the spiral in the sun.

I added a little snail and suddenly the composition was complete and I felt satisfied. It still isn't a complex art quilt--that's not what it's supposed to be--but I am much happier with it. It also now has gained some Aesop-like symbolism--a reminder that there are times we can fly and times we must slow down.

So what do you think? Am I just fooling myself that that snail improved the composition or did it add something? Or do you think it looked fine before? Of course, there is always the possibility that you don't like it at all and no matter what I added you still wouldn't like it. And ultimately, the most important opinion will come from Abigail.

Whatever you think, if you are still with me, thanks for the company!

October Leaves

I don't know whether anyone else will think this is pretty cool, but on my walk with Terra yesterday I was keeping my eyes on the ground since, thanks to several rain storms, that is where the color is now, and right in front of me appeared a Halloween leaf:

I am at a loss as to what critter may have created these mask-like holes, but my three-and-a-half year old granddaughter could make a great story out of this.

And lest I be accused of writing too many non-quilt-related posts, I should let you know that I was actually looking at the leaf litter as a source of inspiration for the series of quilts I'm doing with leafy litter backgrounds like this one:

And if you are still reading, thanks for the company!

My Favorite Color

Butterfly bush: no butterflies but a beautiful surprise in October in Massachusetts.

The Baby and the Butterfly

Even as a child, I loved butterflies, and even though they have become rather overused and a bit too romanticized, I still am fascinated by them and their possibilities for symbolism. Rabindranath Tagore wisely said, "The butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough," but time beat me on this butterfly project.

Thanks to my son and his wife, I had another grandchild due October 22 and of course a quilt was due as well. I had made her big sister a quilt with butterflies and tried out all sorts of possibilities but finally kept coming back to the butterfly.

I decided to keep the design simple since, as I kept reminding myself, this is not an art quilt but a quilt for a baby to use. You may notice that, simple as it is, this quilt is not finished. I had begun the quilting when I got the call on October 5 that Sarah was having some serious contractions, and the next day I was on my way to Massachusetts to help welcome Abigail--with an unfinished quilt in the car.

Right now I am piecing together the moments of holding a tiny new bit of life, who knows how to yawn magnificently and puts a yoga teacher to shame with her stretches, helping a very articulate three-and-a half year old figure out what this new title of big sister means, and making healthy meals and doing whatever else I can  for two sleep-deprived adults. And there will be time enough for all these things--and quilting, too.