Thursday, June 4, 2009
I'm Still Grinning . . .
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Art Quilting As Therapy

It’s taken me a long time to discover that the handwork passions I have pursued all of my life are my therapies in disguise. I’ve always felt that there was a frustrated artist lurking below my veneer of high school math teacher. I had complained for years that I was unable to meditate successfully (my mind continually moves around in ridiculous directions), and it took a highly intuitive friend to help me realize that machine quilting is my form of meditation.
I enter a different world when I walk into my studio. The physical aches and pains that accompany six decades of living seem to fade into the background –- I am about to have fun with fabric and thread, and nothing else matters. It is nearly impossible for my mind to wander too far from the project before me; the left half of my brain, which has guided me through 24 years of teaching mathematics, refuses to give up on solving the problem at hand until the right half has played with all the possibilities.
I seem to be in my most meditative state when I am guiding the quilt sandwich through the machine, following the lines of the motifs which I have drawn on the fabric, concentrating on the size of the stitches as I strive for uniformity. Sometimes there is a great deal of un-sewing, but I know this is necessary, because, in the end, I want to experience that rush of joy at seeing my vision come to life in fabric.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Embracing All That Is Me (With Great Difficulty)

Sunday, May 24, 2009
The Creative Process Continues . . .

- I now place fusible interfacing (I prefer Pellon Lightweight Shirtailor) over each motif in the cartoon and trace the outlines in ink. I draw dots on the interfacing, rather than a solid line, for two reasons: (1) dots are less likely to show along the edge of the fused piece after it's appliquéd in place, and (2) if I were drawing a continuous line, the pen would drag along the interfacing and distort the image.
- All of the interfacing shapes are cut out, leaving about a quarter-inch allowance around each one.
- I tape the master pattern to a glass door; I then tape my background fabric (also interfaced) over the pattern and trace the position of the motifs onto the background with a Clover white marking pen.
- I pin the background fabric to my design board and pin the interfacing shapes in their approximate places.
- Now the fun begins: the pieces of fabric show up for their audition. Believe me, they all get a lot of time on the stage before I decide whether or not to send them to Hollywood (waaay too much "American Idol" lately . . .). When I feel fairly certain of my choices, then, and only then, do the scissors make an appearance (I'm so stingy with my fabric that I hate to cut it and have to discard it -- but nothing is ever set in stone, so I do have a lot of orphaned shapes when I'm done).