Years and years ago, I made this patchwork for a pillowcase.
I gave it to my mother.
It was one of my first patchworks where I departed from commercial fabrics. In fact the yellow squares at the border are cut from my high school gym-suit. I clearly remember high school gym. Probably because I was always embarrassed by the teacher because I was not athletic.
I got it back to repair. But time passed and so did Mom. It's not a pillowcase anymore. It's a story fragment. I cut part of it off to use in something else. I don't remember when or what. But it's probably buried in this blog somewhere. The indigo is new. I can say I patch with dye. And of course, there is a lot more to say about dyed patchwork when I pull it together. I hung this on the wall to remind myself to do that. I've not time for a lot of things right now.
It's raining. Way more rain than we need really. It just keeps raining. Yesterday, after waiting so long for a dry day, I had some wood dumped. I covered it with a tarp, not having time to stack. And expecting a shower. It's been raining all night and still raining. Like a monsoon. At sunrise, no tarp and a big pile of drenched wood.
I used to use element more, but component is so related to compose. And then compound.
In any case as it relates to traditional patchwork quilting, my beginnings with cloth, building blocks.
But really, ultimately I end up with Puzzle Pieces.
Because in a puzzle, the solver is expected to put pieces together in a logical way. Puzzles are often created to be a form of entertainment but they can also arise from serious consideration. And evolve into something more useful. Each component is for me the visualization of a thought, the fundamental element, and part of the language system I use to communicate. Share what moves through me.
The Butterfly has simply evolved into my symbol for becoming. Becoming more or less. Transformation, change, and the beauty in that. And the wing... reach. Not new. But the form it takes has encouraged a bigger appreciation of process as art.
Since each symbol is often a result of building and layers, They might be broken down into components themselves. It's an infinite process really. Like the basic square...thoughts,scraps, stitch, the names of things, all puzzle pieces that ultimately tell the story, clues to the thought process itself.
In this last year I have come to concentrate on dyed components more. I use indigo a lot. My approach to shibori is not so much to focus on the perfection of the technique but on how imperfection, witnessed through repetition, might help morph a shape and encourage the evolution aspect of over and over. Puzzle pieces with softer, more liquid edges. Like clouds, they help me imagine new form and story but still allow me to use them like quilt blocks. I hope you catch my drift.
I built the Butterfly above with 2 triangle components (my symbol for safety), folded and stitched and then embroidered the body. But way back in Diaries I started like this:
As I look back to Spirit Cloth Diaries I am thrown back to the time I was working on the the Magic Feather Cloth, a lot of these butterflies ended up on that cloth. I also just came off a class with Glennis Dolce. Although I'm moving down a less traditional path, I learned the basics of shibori there. I've put her free online class under Freely Inspire in the side bar, even though the link is also over at Feel Free. If you need the basics it is really helpful.
I'm back to adding to Feel Free. Cooler days mean more computer time.I just added a page for components under Composition and I will add a page for Butterflies under Components soon enough. There are so many ways to build a butterfly. Right? Not sure about you but wings seem a good idea at the moment as the end of days as we've known them seems to be upon us.
A red star. A lot of color for me. But it was hot. I got caught up in the idea of a wishing star being a placeKeeper for a change of direction.
I'm back to what-iffing. Catching small thoughts in a new way. But I can talk about that later. Here, the star as a corner has caught me as an interesting arrangement. I made one sketch,there are others waiting in line. But the thread part is important. I pulled snippets of thread from the thread nest, because I save all those small thread ends. One by one, small pieces of color ended up in a nice blend and variation on red. But it also had me thinking about variegated threads in general. How so often the color repeat is too long, so on small areas you don't see the color change soon enough. You know what I mean? That's why I like Deb's Threads. Her crazy method of dyeing produces the perfect scattering of color. Way better than the commercial kind and even some of the hand painted threads I've seen.
A red star then, practicing a few things for the Endless Wishing Cloth... and the reflection of a new day.
PS. I did rows and rows of split back stitch on the star points here. very close together.
The hand piecing method I use to put these pieces together is mostly a simple strip version of this method. And even if I use the machine, I still glue stitch the seams flat. You can iron. It's just a quirky thing of mine. I like the way it feels.
I did manage a double faced moon last night, with a bit of dye, doodle and stitch. Fireside.
Just a bit of stitch. I love how many ways these dyed circles can grow into story. And here how the weave in the cloth works right through it all. My favorite part was stitching that little eye.
The indigo vat seems happy by the woodstove. Happier than me. I'm itching for Spring. Again.
ThreadCrumbs will reopen later today. I'm off to stock up on supplies.
The sense of that something, I said to myself this morning.
Maybe not just because it's way warm for February.
Because, I know, Joy wells up in me. I am very lucky that way.
I cultivate it. Getting better at that every day. After a while it becomes second nature. To root out the sparks of it. Knowing how just a little spark can start a fire.
There are a lot of little bits of things on the wall. So many they have begun to overlap. I do believe this is how it all began for me. The cloth joy. Just little things.
The cabin blocks have reignited the fire from a simpler time. Many stories have come back to me, lifting my trust in human nature. It is like the smell of damp earth that was there on the warm breeze yesterday. As I undid the rest of the garden. Making the place back into a deer run. Hoping that when we leave they might still have a path through.
The new Star Cabin Block is holding a special silk scrap from Richard Carbin. I grabbed a bit of silk and indigo from his shop a while back, since he's right there in Japan. Richard and Glennis put together a mandala class way back. I haven't quite mastered the technique yet, ha! Anyway, he included this scrap that he dyed. A scrap of Richard Self. It has a few holes in it, a great fragment (he knew I would love it) and it holds up just fine. I think I found a fine use for this little gift. A Star Carbin block?
I'm rebuilding the resource list form PlaceKeeper, and I will put it here in the sidebar of the main blog page. In a day or so.
Joy to all of you on this fine day. Hoping you find something small to make you smile. And pass it along before it fades.
Note to self: these cabin blocks with the sun and the moon and the stars, they have become log cabins with windows.
My sadness has turned into curiosity. More questions that answers.
I am not ready for anymore conversation about any of it. Unspoken notes to self is all that remains for now.
The recently harvested indigo with seeds dried quickly. I hung three bundles from the ceiling beams in the studio. The wood stove has been cranked up for a few days. I'm tidying up because most of my time will be spent in the main part of the house soon. The studio will be heated less often as winter moves in. Probably, we'll see.
There will be company today so I am using some quiet time to separate seeds and leaves from the stems which will go in the compost. I love the blueish cast of the dried leaves.
There are still 2 pots brewing on the stove. One pomegranate. One black walnut. I will try to get some cloth dyed while the stove is fired up. I love the colors, the yellow earth colors that come from pom and walnut and copper pots. But more than color, I have begun working more with the reaction of tannin and metals. These pots are tannin soup.
Here, more deliberately with sun in mind. Old linen soaked in pom overnight, a tin can left to rest. I've done these rings before. But what if this time, I leave the the cloth dripping wet ? Allow the migration of the black marks. It radiates outward and feels good. I love how the form emerged from a simple change in process. Maybe many of these today. They make themselves really.
Reconsidering Spaced out as a base for space then.
Working with one of those dyed bases here. And the nine from here. For now. Thinking about creating a pieced version of this base idea as well. And then maybe some other ways, there might be so many. I like this version of space. Divided by what is, a sense of order floating in it. Instead of harem cloth I used a small cotton print behind the thin dyed cloth. For the stabilizing layer. I like starry effect, blurred, like in a fog. There are many ways to play with this format. There is the center, the sense of windows, the spaces in between. Connecting the squares like dots, horizontally, vertically. All ways like a star. Well, shall we?
Note to self: A base, the field of space we choose to work within gives context to the story unfolding. Or sometimes the context can be the whole story. A not so blank slate. A welcome mat. Oh ha. I'm back!
