Routine, the bones of the day

Written last night:
Dear Friends,

Karen the veterinarian says have a routine. She says it's good for Zing, but we both know she means it's good for me. And it is emerging. A routine is the bones you hang your day on. 

Since we’re just creating a schedule, it’s hard to fit in time to test out the tranquilizer for Zing. That is not in the schedule.  Today he couldn’t take it before going to Grateful Dog, because then Zing would be Zombie Dog and unable to play. So I gave him one pill when we got home late this afternoon, and it slowed him down some. Tomorrow I’ll give him the same amount, and then leave for 15 minutes.  

While Zing was gone I went to the Color Theory class at the Crocker Art Museum; we mixed paint again and all of us had the hardest time making green. Also violet. The teacher told me my feathers lack unity, that I should go home and work on it. She said it nicer than that.

When I got back home I was going to put my class papers on the table, then hurry out again to pick up Zing before the evening rush hour. But my doorway had disappeared behind a blockade of boxes: Three sinks. Also a garbage disposal. I edged past the cardboard welcome, opened the door, and one by one dragged those boxes inside. At least they wouldn’t bother the neighbors (I am very nervous about the neighbors.) 

Then I was possessed by one of those whirlwinds of energy, so I grabbed the red box cutter and stabbed through the tape, yanked open the boxes, threw mounds of gray foam packing into the hall, yanked the (!!!***#$#$!) sinks out, inspected them for color and cracks, put them back into their boxes, piled the boxes on the other side of the bed where they can hide awhile, threw the foam back into the larger carrying boxes (so much bigger than the sinks!), and one-by-one dragged them down to the first floor trash room, where I stabbed the boxes into something flat and threw it all into the bin labeled cardboard only. I was on a creation fling and felt like I could probably install the sinks right then.  Clark would be proud. 

After this, my friend Caroline called and we talked like there were no miles between us.  

Love,

k

Trying on a shawl from Gretchen

Grateful moments

Written last night:
Dear Friends,

Today I took Zing to The Grateful Dog and then had some moments to myself. What a great feeling! However, these days I am always second-guessing my choices, because so much is shifting. In the middle of last night I wondered if I should have bought the month of time-off for Zing. Of course, the answer is Yes, but you know how things are in the dark. 

First thing, I made a hair appointment, and when I got there Marisa told me I can bring Zing along next time. So I have no excuse to let my hair get all straggly! 

Then I walked to the one place that welcomes everyone (except dogs): the church across from the Capitol building, which hosts a concert at noon on Wednesdays. Today I finally got to go. The audience didn’t fill the church exactly — there was plenty of space between people, but it was a sizable crowd (wish I’d counted!). We heard contemporary jazz, with bass, piano, and singer. Some in the audience ate lunch as they listened, and I tried to sketch the bassist. Not easy! Next week the program is classical piano.  

Then I went home and traced around feathers for my Color Theory class assignment: You find some natural objects (last week lots of people had done leaves), then arrange them on the page and draw around them. Then you color in the background with black marker, leaving the shapes free. You are supposed to use the Gestalt Principles, which were new to me: SIMILARITY / CONTINUATION / CLOSURE / PROXIMITY / FIGURE and GROUND. Used artfully, they are supposed to make a pleasing image. Yay! this was a chance to use my feather collection. Yes, I brought a folder of feathers from Florida! You know I only brought the important stuff with me. 

I was planning to try out the Clonidine (the stronger relaxer drug) with Zing at the end of the afternoon, but decided to wait until tomorrow.  

Love,

k

Falling feathers
11" x 14"

Flower series 5: Happy heart

Happy heart
32" x 36"
paint and stitch

I love Happy Heart!

Of course, there was a moment when I wanted to throw her away (her??) That happens.

I like how my original small flowered heart transforms dramatically when enlarged. I copied the original onto a transparency and enlarged it. using the overhead projector that Maureen so kindly insisted I keep. (Sure does come in handy, Maureen! Thank you!)

I drew the lines in pencil on white Kona cotton, lightly so the pencil wouldn't show on the finished piece.

Then I sewed over the lines with black thread, using free-motion stitching. It was miserable! Even if I blasted light on the piece, I could barely see the lines. Then I used Mark-B-Gone, with trepidation. It's as blue as this quilt! It's hard to believe the color will wash out with cold water. I tested it first. Still I worried my piece would be ruined by blue. Probably everyone who uses the stuff feels the same way at first.
Before quilt-drawing I layered the Kona with felt and white duck. (Yes, purists, I confess I used spray adhesive. I love it!) The thing is, that felt is wool. I love wool felt.

After  the design was all stitched in black -- my machine was like a drawing tool -- I held my breath and ran cold water over the piece. I held it over the bathtub, and in a flash the blue ran down the drain. I sighed big time! 

Alas, too soon! 

Did you know that wool felt shrinks in a second?? 

My quilt was all scrunched up. Lots of people do this on purpose, but I did it by accident. Suddenly my quilt was very QUILTY. The design was bumpy, thanks to shrinkage. I was sad. 

Then I was happy. I love it the texture!

After that, painting.

This, too, was a delight. I expected to be bored to death, coloring within the lines of my flowers. But it was peaceful and fun.

It helped that I had made a dozen preliminary drawings, mixing paint and then trying out this and that combination. 

It still needs at least stitching around the edges. Maybe a simple facing. 

But I have a happy heart.

** Series note: You are right, Ellen! veering from guidelines is the definition of art. My series is far from what I'd envisioned. It turns out I'm exploring paint-related quilting techniques, doing what's fun rather than following the rules I'd set for myself. It's still about flowers, quilting, and color, with Beatriz Milhazes as my distant teacher. A series, it turns out, can be exploration. Boundaries are for leaping.

detail
Happy Heart

Series 4: veering from plan

Seduced by paint,  I have detoured from my plan to make a series of quilts. A couple of months ago, dazzled by my own sense of organization, I outlined what I wanted to make (Yes, I did want to!), then created a few flower paintings to warm up for the floral quilts. And never quit. There's paint on my pants and on my hands, and dripped on the floor too.

I haven't abandoned flowers. I thought they'd get to be a bore, but instead found that forever isn't long enough to absorb floral color and variety and life.

Flowers are in. Color is in. I've stuck to that much of my series plan. Stripes and mandalas are on hold. I'm spending lots of time painting (The colors, when I mix them, turn into other colors!) I'm making a glorious mess.

Thanks to Google and a visit last month to the Quilt National exhibit in Athens, Ohio, I have been able to observe how others combine paint with quilting. I'm now "drawing" on fabric using black thread and free-motion quilting, then painting inside the designs: flowers, for now.

This may be a series of sorts, based on the gorgeousness of flowers and fabric. And paint.

Happy

It's strange I named this piece Happy, because it started a dismal black and brown. It was making me morose, so I changed the background to my favorite color -- turquoise. From that moment, I loved making this. I got inspiration from 

the French Impressionist painter Bernard Lorjou (1908-1986).

Here's a peek into my process of making Happy. Sorry, I don't have any photos of that bleak black and brown starting point!

Happy
32" x 24"
cotton, organza, silk, paint and thread

Above is my work table with the turquoise cotton being stenciled with white paint. I love doilies and use them whenever I can.
Below, the fabric after stenciling

 Above, trying out sheers for the vase. The background is a piece of silk painted pale pink.

 Maybe it's the messy in me, but I love the stitching on the back, above and below.

Choosing thread

Above and below, Happy detail

Thank you for being here!

Red makes me happy

Last night I was grumpy. I hadn't touched paint or fabric all day. Guess I'm hooked on making stuff.

Today was different. I bought Gina Lee Kim's first Art Lesson from Interweave Press, and learned some tips for working the warm spectrum with watercolors. If I were serious, watercolor would scare me, but I'm not, so it's fun. All my forays down art's many avenues are for making me a better, sharper and more sensitive art quilter. But I'm loving this splashing around in colored water.

One thing painters know is to be careful mixing colors. Mixing hues on opposite sides of the color wheel makes mud.

Tip One: Because Kim is a multimedia artist, she can stick to related colors, painting yellow, orange, red, pink, and purple -- adding complements with other media. This avoids making paint mud.

2. Draw with an oil stick. It resists paint.

3. A glaze is adding color on top of dried color. It intensifies things.

4. Watercolor dries about 25% lighter.

5. Dropping color means adding a new pigment to a wet spot.

The text is from Rumi --

Welcome and entertain them all

Even if they're a crowd of sorrows

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture.

Green mornings

Twice a week my mornings are quiet and green -- Come see what I mean:

Starting

To the right and to the left

American water lilies

View from the wooden lookout
Late-morning shadows are of the gentle hillside to the east

Zing! waits for me to catch up

Near the end

Bits of color

I'm in that neverland of fever and the edge of grief. My mother died and then I got a terrible cold. They are hardly equivalent, but combined serve as a reason for me to do very little. It's perfect for cutting out 1" squares of cotton and gluing them to index cards, as directed by Elizabeth Barton in her book Inspired to Design. She says the more you actually handle color the better you become at using it in your quilts. I know she's right, but ... actually doing it feels less than effective. Which is perfect for now. So above you see my green family, bright and dull, along with a monochromatic selection of four greens. Aha! red is next, and ...

Flower art

Stephanie's Flowers
49" x 49"

Stephanie showed me art she likes; a collaboration in the spirit of designer Diane von Furstenburg and artist Andy Warhol. Spontaneously -- which means I wasn't really thinking -- I said, "I think I could make that into a quilt for you."  She wanted a lap quilt more than wall art. It took about 40 hours, including planning time. OK, OK, I'm slow -- but I do love the piece, and it was fun checking with Stephanie as I went along, to see what colors she preferred, and to get her general approval. I'm not sure what Warhol would say, though.

detail

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Tearing Watercolor Paper

I wanted to cut up my playful, painted and printed watercolor paper to make a small folded book. I'd never cut watercolor paper before, so naturally I readied a blade -- my Exacto knife, with ruler and cutting board. Just in time I realized that I did not want a crisp edge. Tearing would be better. So I wandered the Internet and discovered this YouTube on tearing watercolor paper. It's a peaceful occupation.

Collage on watercolor paper

What is it I like about this collage? I made it on watercolor paper, following the blog Simply Artistic Pleasures; I used masking, spray paint, calligraphy pens, painted gesso, printing tools. It looks kind of messy and happy. Maybe I like it because there are no mistakes.

Lately I've been overwhelmed by how much I don't know about art -- theory, history, technique. I am reading too much about the high-stakes multi-national art scene. How ridiculous to let that craziness infest my thinking.

Finally I realize the obvious: make lots of art, learn along the way, and enjoy every moment. That's why I like this collage.

Ohio in late fall

Dublin, Ohio

last week

Maple tree behind someone's house

We woke up to wet snow one morning. I think this is a flowering crab apple, seen through screen of sunroom
Sunroom?

Color Love

What color combinations do you love? OK, OK... everyone loves blue. (You don't?) I've been thinking beyond my favorite color, turquoise -- really paying attention. I had fun running through my photos, noticing what grabbed me. Not thinking, just responding.