Modern Batik Scrap Wreath Tutorial, Part 1: Piecing and Appliqué

Here's my latest. I call it Ring Toss.

It sits on a yard of fabric. I'm not yet sure which way is up. What do you think?

It grew out of three of my most recent obsessions: wreaths; batik strips (in January 1, 2, 3); and coming to terms with my hopelessly awkward freemotion machine quilting  (1: Spock; 2: Mammography: and 3: Sound of Music.  

So I'll break this blog post into two parts. This is Part I: How to make a batik scrap wreath, suitable for all occasions, or, as in this case, non-occasions. Part 2 will go into the 10 freemotion quilting motifs I added.

It all started when I got sick of weaving batik strips, and decided to start piecing batik scraps into log cabin-ish rectangles. 

I used a 24" ruler (with a pinhole) to draw a circle on brown paper approximately 22" across. Five inches outside the first circle I drew another circle

Laid the blocks on the pattern and grew them until there were enough to cover the doughnut shape. 

Removed the blocks. Cut out both circles and used the ring pattern to cut out fusible fleece. (Or interfacing, or something stiffer; you have lots of options, which we'll list at the end.) 

Cut the outer area away from the fleece...

And then the inner area. Laid the fleece ring with the fusible side down.  Placed two stitched blocks on the ring. Made sure they extended beyond the ring at least a half inch on the inside and outside. 

Flipped the bottom block onto the top block, right sides together, and stitched along that lower edge. 

Open. Pressed carefully, using a nonstick applique press sheet on bottom to protect the ironing surface from the glue.

Kept adding blocks, stitching, and flipping open.

Continued until the entire base was covered. The last block overlapped the first; turned under its final edge and topstitched with invisible thread. Walked away for a day or so, came back, and took a look. 

I kind of liked it with jagged edges along both the inner and outer edges, and therefore could have skipped the next several steps. But ultimately decided I wanted smooth edges. So I trimmed them to 1/2" beyond the fleece backing, on the inside and outside. Clipped curves as needed and pressed the edge under. It adhered to the fusible.

Trimmed and pressed, it looked like this:

Pretty cool, eh? Time to audition backgrounds. What about a rainbow? 

 I preferred solid blue.

 I really liked it off-center!

Check out those accidental crease curves lines on the upper right of the ring.  I meant this as a wreath, but with those accidental creases, it looked much more like something flung. I decided to call it Ring Toss.

I machine zig-zagged the ring to a yard of Kona cotton blue background using invisible monofilament thread. The grey marks have fusible web on the back and are also raw edge zig-zag appliquéd in place. They are supposed to represent the spinning/wavering motion of the ring? (Alternatively, they represent two grey quarter moons on a distant doughnut-shaped alien planet.)

 There are so  many different directions this idea could go in: 

1. Use a stiff thick fusible interfacing, like Pellon F2F and don't put it on any background - it will literally be a hangable wreath. Embellish with buttons, beads, or sparkly trim. Press a fabric to the back and fold in its edges. 

2. Do decorative stitching along seam lines for a crazy quilt effect. 

3. Use a paper foundation, or light-to-medium weight interfacing instead of fusible fleece, if you don't want the ring to have dimension. 

Next week, Part 2: Freemotion quilting with awkward sky motifs. 

How Your Fabric Stash Can Improve Your Techno-Savvy, Increase Income, and Strengthen Marriage

It's not easy being a woman, and as if pantyhose, salpingo-oopherectomy, and unequal pay aren't bad enough, our better clothing lacks pockets.

Women have long complained about pocket deprivation, but today the stakes are vastly higher - pockets, it turns out, are essential to keeping up with the boys in technology (and therefore, pay), because that's where they keep their e-gadgets. My friend Teresa sent me this fascinating article called 'The Gender Politics of Pocket' in The Atlantic.

Solution: Use your quilting fabric stash to create and lengthen existing pockets! Or, Teresa found this site where you can buy premade pocket extenders: http://www.pocketforsmartphones.com/ - they're a cheap investment in your future, and the page has easy installation directions. Since I love polka dots, here's the one I'd buy:

) . 

And speaking of delightful fabric, your techno-savvy won't improve, but you will attract more brick-and-mortar friends if you wear disembodied celebrity heads. The maker, a creative young fiber artist named Erin Pearce, accepts commissions, and along with dresses,

...she also makes shirts and shorts from her custom fabric, and they're not too pricey. (Yes, that's Captain Picard of Star Trek.) I'd befriend anyone on the street dressed in early Picard (or Worf, or Cumberbatch).

What if your favorite celebrity is imaginary, and he's Superman? Make this.

Cindy, of Cation Designs, tells me she found the fabric from a thrift shop, and it was a....wait for it....bed sheet! (Obviously minimally slept on or laundered).  And - oh yes - it has pockets! (I asked!)

He wasn't exactly Superman, but I do have a lot of Elvis fabric, and I love making little scenes from it, like this one, blogged here:

But here's what I usually do with novelty fabrics: Make "Everything in the World" baby quilts. The top panel, among the clouds, has squares of sky stuff (planets, birds, cow jumping over the moon). There's all kinds of random things in the novelty fabric 9-patches below the sky - dogs, cats, elephants, berries, Mighty Mouse, Elvis, you name it.... 

And the bottom has sea-dwelling entities like ships and fish. 

Next, the story of an adorable husband and wife who dress in matching novelty fabric outfits: http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2013/may/25/husband-and-wife-dressed-same-35-years.

This quirky habit adds depth to their marriage. Now if only I could persuade DH to wear one of these whenever I wear the other:

Left Worf and right Worf. With pockets, of course. Here's the matching quilt:

(Just kidding, I haven't made any of these things....yet....)

Happy Passover, Happy Easter! Awkward Spring Holiday Freemotion Quilting Idea

This fabulous gefilte-related photo and news story are from an Atlanta congregation with a tremendous sense of humor and mad Photoshop skills. Read their fish tale here.

And now for the freemotion quilting. Below, left, Easter Egg unadorned. Below right, Gefilte Fish unadorned. 

Below left, Easter Egg Adorned. Below right, Gefilte Fish Adorned. 

 Wondering exactly what a gefilte fish is? Think of it as a fish ball. It's much blander than it looks, which is why it needs a splotch of horseradish, ideally red. Wikipedia definition here.

Happy Passover, Happy Easter!

Surprising Quilts from Vintage Hexagons

When quilters think about antique hexagon quilts, here's the kind of thing that comes to mind:

I am guessing that this 1880 quiltmaker suffered a Victorian ailment which kept her bedridden, improved her vision and fine motor skills, and extended her lifespan.

When pieced accurately, hexagon quilts are a miracle; when pieced badly, which is easier, they're a ripply mess. Both are incredibly time-consuming. That's why unfinished hexagon tops and pieces - especially the wonky ones - are relatively cheap and abundant in flea markets and antique shops.

When I first became a quilter, and fell madly in love with vintage quilts, I went through an inevitable phase of collecting hexagonal tops and pieces, Here's one of my purchases:

The purchase is followed by inevitable wondering what to do with it, followed by inevitable realization of how enormous the task is, followed by inevitable stuffing them into a closet until I'm dead, which will inevitably be followed by my children giving them away so they end up in another flea market where another dewy-eyed young quiltmaker will fall in love with them and bring them home.

But wait! There is finally a book that can help interrupt the cycle of hexagonal heartbreak!

Mary Kerr, award-winning quilter and certified appraiser, had a similar appreciation of unfinished hexagon blocks and tops, but instead of merely hoarding them, she made unexpected quilts from them.

Her new book - I asked for a review copy - is "Recycled Hexie Quilts," from Schiffer Publishing, and it contains more than 100 photos of very wonderful quilts made from vintage hexagons, most of which break stereotypes and rules.

Kerr explains that hexagons have been in pieced quilts for at least 300 years. In the 20th century, hexagon piecing designs became known as Grandmother's Flower Garden.

The book shows some antique eyepoppers - like the first quilt at top of this post - but most of the photographs are of quilts Kerr made from old pieces and tops. She combines new fabrics with old,  cuts off hexagons at 90 degree angles (!), and places them  in unlikely locations, like borders, sashing, and setting squares. Most do not require the kind of time and skill needed to complete the top quilt on this page.

Here's "Mosaic Star," which has a Modern feeling, and requires only hundreds instead of tens of thousands of pieces:

And here's one with even fewer pieces, which means an even more Modern feeling - and guess what - it's FUSED to that black background! (Quilt police hair just caught fire!).

There's a whole chapter on fusing, and really, it's the perfect solution to damaged seams.

Here, almost randomly-cut hexagon quilt top segments become sashing and borders, and are combined with vintage ducks:

In the next quilt, "Roses for Opal," Kerr circled floral panels painted by her grandmother Opal, with  hexagons from the 1930s. The pink fabric is from the 1920s. "Mixing eras  just creates a more interesting piece and a much better story," Kerr says.  I think it also cuts the bubble gum sweetness to a degree that's just right.

Note that she refuses to fuss with the corners. We don't need no mitering! Symmetry is for sissies!

If you don't happen to have vintage duck or floral panels lying around, buy a brand spanking new  jelly roll instead and make one of these, combining log cabin with hexagons:

Kerr used a Moda Jelly Roll, but if you Google "pastel fabric jelly roll" you'll come up with lots of options.

The next quilt, "Lancaster," is brilliant - a Grandmother's Flower Garden top cut into diamonds, and joined with a sashing, for an effect that's remniscent of a traditional Japanese art motif.

And finally, to PROVE that hexagon quilts don't have to be a lifetime of work, and can be Modern/Gee's Bend, there's this:

It's a large 1940s hexagon fused asymmetrically onto a vintage tablecloth.

And there's a much, much more in the book. If you have your own stash of vintage hexagons, this is just what you need to inspire yourself to give them new life.  Thanks, Mary Kerr, for writing a great and useful book!

If you'd like to win a copy of the book straight from the Schiffer Publishing, please leave a comment, (maybe about your perspective on hexagons?) and I will use a random number generator to select and announce a winner on April 10, 2015. A random number generator chose our winner - congratulations Quiltshopgal!

PS One more idea: Here's a blog post from a couple of years ago about something I did with orphan blocks, combining them with Terrie Mangat fabric gew-gaws.

(UPDATE: Here's a link to an utterly astonishing hexagon quilt from 1940 with 58,640 pieces.)

c

The well-intentioned continuous-line freemotion quilting designs just keep coming!  I was originally inspired by Leah Day, but don't hold her responsible! (First two awkward quilting adventures here: 1, 2).

In February, my daughter was a singing nun in her school's production of The Sound of Music, and as a result, I've got the tunes seriously stuck in my head, If you continue reading, you will too.

Humming led to drawing, and if you're over 40, and/or a Lady Gaga fan, you'll know exactly what I'm humming here:

I even stitched it out, just to prove it's possible: 

Yes, it's raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles, warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with string (Theseareafewofmyfavoritethings, phew.) All easy to draw and connect, with only a little backtracking. But suddenly, the song's mood turns dark: 

When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad, I think about all the stuff I've hoarded, and a great big smile comes to my very simple face. Freemotion fans, I discovered that if you run facial features into the side of the head, you won't have to lift your needle or cut the thread. It takes practice and you may wind up with disturbing skull shapes.

The next verse was much more challenging:

Cream-colored ponies (tough), crisp apple strudel (easy, like a HoHo), doorbells and sleigh bells (major artistic liberties) and schnitzel with noodles.

Here's a  closeup of my sketch for the last two, schnitzel w/noodles and wild-geese-that-fly-with-the-moon-on-their-wing (I ran out of paper on the right side, that's why the goose is so stumpy):

Now  you are saying to me, "OMG, Cathy, that schnitzel is a hot mess, even by your low standards!" You are right! But look at this actual Internet photo of schnitzel with noodles! The stuff is literally a hot mess!

 The final lyric of the song was the hardest:

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes,
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into spring.

The sashed dress wasn't bad. Freehanding a snowflake,without marking or tracing, turned out to be murder. It has to have six points, and they should be more or less equidistant? After numerous disasters, I started with an asterisk in the middle, then backtracked to add points, eyelashes, and the bottom of a nose.

OK, so it's not "snowflakes," it's one giant suffocating killer snowflake. Why wouldn't that be someone's favorite thing? The last line, I interpreted as a snow-covered tree struck by sun on the right side until leaves emerge. Admittedly, it's a stretch.

At our non-schnitzel dinner a few days later, my family test-sang other showtunes for freemotion quilting potential. One idea - speaking of hoarding - was the Little Mermaid song - "Part of That World" - but when we looked up the lyrics on our dinner smartphones, we discovered they are stunningly vague:

I've got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty
I've got whozits and whatzits galore
You want thingamabobs?
I've got twenty!
But who cares?
No big deal
I want more

I haven't the slightest clue how to depict whozits and whatzits, let alone thingamabobs, and unquenchable material greed. Maybe just general meandering, interrupted by the occasional smartphone.

So back to Sound of Music. it occurred to me a few days later that it has another noun-strewn song: Climb Every Mountain, Ford Every Stream...

The streams, in the middle above, could alternatively be interpreted as: Eat Every Bacon. Then comes Follow Every Rainbow (or Enter Every Igloo)....

....Until you finnnnnndd yooooour dreeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaammmmmm!!!!

(That's my daughter, the singing nun with transparent wrists. She sang so beautifully, I'm kvelling. She deserves a freemotioned wholecloth Sound of Music quilt, no?)

PS: There's nothing new about quilts inspired by Broadway musicals. To see recent quilts based on Wicked, go to this page.