Decision time

With a major purging session behind me, and the end of any possible machine sewing on the piece I've been working on for the last while, I don't know what to do with myself.  The hand sewing needed for that piece is getting done in short sessions, as I'm finding it difficult in terms of my arthritis.  So I need some machine work I can do, as a change of pace.  There are about 8 charity quilts cut, ready to go.  These are usually done quickly, one right after the other, as I find they sabotage my creative thinking.  Six were turned in this month.  There is no need to rush the remaining pile.  Being committed to a craft sale in December, I have a fair bit of preparation work to get done in the next two months.  But, based on historical data, this sale is likely to be a wonderful social day, without any serious sale opportunities.  Somehow it doesn't seem to have a high priority.  There are notes for two art pieces in my sketch book.  One of these leads into the other, so will have to be done first, except, I need to create the patterns, not my favourite task.  The deadline is late summer, next year. My brain doesn't know which task to choose as a priority.  A wealth of possibilities, which is sometimes a two edged sword.  So I go back to the old directive when faced with a mental block--Just do Something--doesn't matter what--but just start something.  My friends are expecting me to have a booth at the craft sale, and it might be in my best interest to put up a good one, even if the sale expectations are low.  I have a clear idea on how to do that, so I just have to kick myself in the butt and get to it!

At the beginning of September, two friends and I rented space in a smaller gallery for the month, and hung a show.  It was to come down ( end of the time we had paid for) this coming weekend.  I contacted them to arrange a convenient time to go, as it's about 1 1/2 hour away.  To my surprise, they asked if the show could be extended for several weeks.  Fine by me!  What a compliment!

More purging

Today I tackled my "Box of Tricks".  This is a big plastic tub in which I've stored anything I buy or make for mixed media work.  It was full to overflowing.  I also had a couple of smaller plastic project boxes that hadn't been cleaned out since their projects were either finished or scrapped. There was also a boot box of ribbon and a smaller plastic tub of ribbon, as well as two full, ribbon-filled, plastic grocery bags. I ended up with the equivalent of  a one and a half-full green garbage bags for the thrift store, and a half -full bag of garbage.  Doesn't sound like a lot, but it represents 4 1/2 hours of steady work.

Doing the work gave me lots of time to think. I thought about how much money the stuff represented.  It had been purchased over 30-40 years, in mainly smaller purchases, but when added together, the total was frightening.  A lot of the stuff had been leftover from previous projects.  So I both remembered those projects, and mourned the memories.  This was a sad day.  Not only am I grieving over the loss, I'm also being forced to accept that  I will not live long enough to use the stuff.  I don't have that many years left.

So a lot of battling emotions: relief at getting the job done and getting the stuff out of the house, and sadness at the need to do so.

Decision time

Today I was asked to submit a proposal for teaching at an upcoming quilting weekend.  This could be perceived as an honour. They specifically asked for something unusual, as the event has been going on for several years, and most traditional activities have been covered. 

This Guild tends to be very project driven in their workshops, rather than concentrating on the learning of a technique. Doing this would mean thinking up a concept for the class, and then doing all the research, making samples, and writing hand outs.  Then drafting a proposal. As this is only a proposal, the class may not run, and the work would be for nothing.  Even if the class is offered, poor enrollment would mean that the class would not run, and I would be stuck with the expense of any kits prepared.  Nor would I be compensated for my time. I believe that the actual payment for teaching would be about $200, plus the actual cost for any kits provided. (Traditional quilt guilds are notoriously cheap.)

 I have pretty well stopped teaching, after doing it for almost 40 years, and accept that I'm at the end of my teaching career. I think I've decided that I don't want to do it.  

Different activity this week

We've had family visiting from Ontario.  My sister from Sundridge has been here, and the whole family from both Winnipeg and Neepawa have been getting together to visit and eat.  At out age, one never knows whether a visit may be the last, so we really make a big deal of it.  But the two of us have also spent a little time in the studio,  Since I can always talk ad stitch, a few more of the leaves have been beaded, and even a few of those pesky strips sewn onto the background, for the current piece I'm making.

I'm more than half way in terms of sewing the strips to the background, and well pleased with the result.

A few of the leaves to be appliqued to the finished strips have been beaded and lots more to do.

And here is part of the family, too busy eating to even look at the camera and say "cheese"

I plan to link this to The Needle and Thread Network.

Update on my leaves

Still working frantically on my Damask leaves, although I have no idea what the panic might be.  The fabric paper leaves just didn't work out. I fused an inner leaf on, and then beaded around it. I then did the same thing with the second leaf for the back.  But joining the two sections proved a problem.  With glue in the center the two pieces were joined but there were still gaps along the edges.   I sewed around the edge, and this just didn't turn out well. I had been slowly developing reservations about using them. and finally decided that they wouldn't do.  But, they might prove quite fine for a future mixed media project, so are off to the big plastic container of "stuff" that I reserve for that sort of work.

But I already knew that I needed more leaves, and had parfait dyed three more napkins. Thankfully, they had turned out well, and were the darker colours I had hoped for.  It was still the same dye powder, but used in much greater concentration.

I stabilized all of them, and cut two rectangles out of them, each roughly the same size.  Each pair, from the same napkin, were sandwiched with batting, and machine quilted--horizontally, vertically and on an angle, in lines 1/4" apart. Leaf shapes were individually cut by hand.  The edges were sealed with acrylic paint, and then I started beading them.

I'm well pleased with this, and will continue beading until I have enough to applique onto the striped background. I'm slowly getting that stitched.  That, too, is turning out to be a little more demanding than I had anticipated.

I plan to link this with The Needle and Thread Network

A new idea and new energy

Awhile back I mentioned parfait dying Damask napkins and then cutting them in strips, but then not knowing what to do with them.  The other day it came to me that I've always been attracted to leaves. What if--I covered the sewn together strips with a swath of dimensional leaves?  How to make those leaves? Pintrest gave me a couple of ideas, and I've used so many techniques over the years, what if I took a look at some of the older techniques?  One I remembered was quilted leaves cut out and edge stitched with beads.  I knew that I had seen it done by Linda Kemshell, but couldn't remember where, so hit the reference books, without success.  Then found the demo on Quilting arts tv number 201. 

The dyed strips really have a problem with value.  Here they are on my portable flannel wall, ready to be sewn together. Yeah, there's a value issue there, but it will make a good background for leaves of a darker value.

First thing I did was try, for the third time, to dye a couple of napkins with the same colours, but much more intensely coloured.  Not wanting to change too much, I elected to use parfait dying again.

The other thing I decided to try was fabric paper.  I quickly realized that I would probably have to back the leaf with the same thing, as I wanted them to be dimensional.  For that I would need a consistent shape and that meant I would need a template.  Good thing I'm as old as I am, and learned my craft before rotary cutters.  I just happened to have a bit of template plastic on hand.  The price puts it out of my range these days.  The red paint on the scissors designates them as paper scissors. The colour on the fabric paper is much darker than it appears here.  I cut out 12 leaves, which when sewn together, will make 6 leaves.  

When I looked at them, they looked a little "blah-h-h".  This meant that there had to be either paint or fabric added to lift up the "zowie" factor.  More paint would make all the layers difficult to sew through, so I went to my stash of fabric scraps that already had fusible web on one side.

Does anyone else save those scraps?  I have two gallon sized Zip Loc bags stuffed with them, and they have never let me down when I wanted that perfect little piece, for what ever.  I do store them in sealed bags, as I think that extends the life of the fusible web.  Here's the pile after I've gone through it, and then sealed up ready to go back into the storage shelves.

And that was yesterday.  Today I'll deal with the parfait dye bath, and figure out what's going to happen with that.

I plan to link this with The Needle and Thread Network, and maybe, Nina-Marie Sayre's  Off the Wall Friday.

Still Finding my way

With the physical limits I'm trying to deal with, I'm struggling to keep  myself busy in the studio.  This is probably a measure of the strength of my drive to create.  Regular breaks are being built into my time down there.  I am reading a lot-thank Goodness for the public library.  Evenings are being spent playing poker on the internet for play money.  There is also a need for more small pouches to be sold at a local gift shop.  Trying to find some inspiration and/or technique that I can manage has sent me back to the DVD's of the early Quilting Arts tv.  Today I was watching video the 200 series, and that lead to time spent painting fabric.

The small pouches I'm slowly working on have lead to some family discussions and some soul searching on my part.  These are selling fairly well, and the production uses a lot of left over fabric and scraps. The money is negligible.  I'm certainly not getting paid for the time, and unless scraps and leftovers are used, the cost of supplies isn't even covered.  But then, I never had the expectation of profit.  At the same time, living on a fixed pension income, means every cent spent of art supplies, has to be carefully considered. 

Still, the social contacts that are involved are welcome.  Aging without socialization quickly leads to isolation  which can, itself, lead to mental deterioration.  Not going there!

I participated in craft shows and sales for many years, until I was persuaded to look at my work as "art".  The final straw came when my booth, at a major show, was situated next to one selling obscene rubber stamps.  Since than I have limited myself to art shows and exhibits, and activities associated with that, such as a gallery gift shop.

A second positive result of selling both art and craft is the validation one receives for one's work.  Early in my life this was important to me.  With both a family and a job, how else could I justify the time spent creating?  No longer important. I'm comfortable with my abilities.

As young wife and mother, the social aspects of special interest groups may have kept me sane.  That my sound strange, but IMHO, it's a reality.  Now as an older person, with limited social opportunities, it remains a reality.