Embroidery Coach

Recently added to my book stash was this kitschy craft instruction manual I couldn't resist mooching, if nothing else than for the title: a 1993 copy of Create Your Own Cross Stitch: How to turn your design ideas into reality. I was curious about this emboldening statement to not let one's dreams (of cross-stitch) lie in wait. Had I wasted my time in art school when all I needed was this book to fulfill my dreams? I'm a sucker for diagrams, sketches, and how-to's especially if they have a homey spin and have been written by women with multiple degrees {the fantastic Shirley Watts of CYOCS has a degree in Geography, Geology, and a degree in the Philosophy of Education, to boot}.

Shirley sketches mushrooms, tells you how to take photos to turn them into cross-stitch, gives basic instruction on how to start a project, and gently coaxes you through the process of unpacking your fears of being a creative individual. If ever you needed an embroidery coach, she is it.

I collect more craft books than I am able to do projects, but I do try not to give into impulse buying of craft books unless I really think I'll make something from them. Bookmooch is my kiddie cocktail of the book binge world; tasty but not inebriating. Are there any books you stock up on for your own work or just for fun?

Babar the Pillow

This weekend marks the start of Sugar Holiday, Şeker Bayramı, the end of Ramazan, and with it comes visiting family and delicious food. This usually entails a freshly cleaned house for visitors, too, and new outfits for the kids. Tomorrow I'll be cleaning and baking (looks like I'll make a brunch cake with blackberries), and I'm already hungry thinking about it. I managed to squeeze in one last project before fall cleaning takes over, though, and it turned out to be a (tiny) pillow.

I stitched this Babar pattern when I was pregnant with Lina and needed a quick project. I think that if I just did rows and rows of x's without any pattern at all, I would be just as happy as a real pattern because a good, long row of uninterrupted stitches is as close I get to meditation these days. But it's hard to gift projects with random stitches. I read somewhere, several years back, about how really truly subversive stitching has been for women at various points in history, because in the act of stitching, one has contemplative thought and makes room for imagination and desire. That could, of course, be dangerous if you were not encouraged to think. My friend Tara talks about this regarding the intricate 'oya' lace patterns traditionally done by village women in Turkey in her blog post Needlework and Crystals.

Today I made the little pillow and stuffed it, propping it on Topi's bed where I hope he'll discover it when he comes home from nursery today.

Happy Bayram! Iyi bayramlar!

Home

I've recovered two of my very first, badly made stitching projects from my childhood home. One I write about here, or hint at, rather. It's a stitching of a pink rabbit I probably started when I was between 8 to 10 years old that I never finished, and for the fun of it thought I would not only finish now at age 30, but also turn into Lina's birth record. I'm nearly done, but keep finding some reason not to finish it just yet. I wonder if it being 22-years old and sentimental has anything to do with it.


The second is of this little house, still in the aqua blue plastic hoop from when I dropped this project, probably around the same age. I think it must have come before the pink rabbit because my stitching is atrocious. The back-side of it is a maze of sad, confused and knotted yarn, all the strands wrapped around each other in an attempt to get somewhere else. I don't remember who helped me with this piece. I learned from a few different people, including my Grandma Schueller, our lovely elderly neighbor Evelyn Sveum across the ridge (we lived in a valley, and our nearest neighbors were on actual hilly ridges), or my babysitter. I certainly know it wasn't my mother because she had died when I was six. I have a framed "My Sampler of Stitches" that my mom made when she was 10 and it hangs now in my hallway here, after being stuck in a box for four years.

The needle

But whoever is responsible for teaching me let me use an extremely large needle for this small project! No wonder I had anxious decision making about where to put it and how to pull it through the fabric. Or maybe I had picked the needle myself, thinking that the bigger, sharper, and more deadly the needle, the better. Regardless, sadly, I let this one remain unfinished. Unlike the pink bunny, there is no resuscitation for this ugly little house. I'm thinking I'll just take off the hoop, hand-clean it and iron it and then frame it. Why frame it? It's ugly in a cute way, I guess, and I'm going through a phase where I like to frame everything. I've framed a lot of cross-stitching in the last year or so, like this, this, and this, and more. The problem is that our walls are concrete and it is impossible to nail and/or drill through them. So they act as props, or I rotate them. But framing a stitching somehow elevates it, kitsch-ifies it, and gives it more proper attention than stored away, don't you think?

Colette Patterns

I have just discovered Colette sewing patterns through Pink Chalk Fabric. I'm in love with the ink and watercolor drawings of the clothes on their patterns and how the model has been painted in a wash of color. Completely lovely. The one below is called Parfait, and I'm determined, once and for all, to sew myself something wearable because of this pattern. Colette's blog is here, and designer Sarai Mitnick's blog Sweet Sassafras is here. How come I've never seen these patterns before? I wonder if the use of hand-painted illustration is part of a new collection. I'm off to investigate, but if anyone knows, do tell!

The Starter Quilt

Throwing caution to the wind, I embarked upon my first quilt. The desire to make a quilt had been growing in me since my grandmother gave me quilt squares made by my great-grandmother almost two years ago. I'm not quite finished with this starter quilt, but nearly so. I didn't follow a pattern. I laid the blocks out on the floor and pieced them together haphazardly. I consulted a few books like Anna Maria Horner's Seams to Me only after I had sewn the batting and backing. I eagerly jumped into machine quilting without following any of the proper steps. And what happened? A lumpy, sad crib-sized quilt that would have to hide in the back of the closet in shame, or be repurposed into something else.


But this week was different than most, so the story ends better than it started. Today was my week off, from everything besides domestic endeavors and rest. I had a nasty fall after blacking out two weeks ago (dehydration, low blood pressure) that gave me a minor concussion, and when I came to, I basically realized I had to stop my high pressure routine. I'm still sorting it out, but things are better. I'm not going to move as fast as I had been. And you know what? Even that first week after I fell, I felt guilty while cutting quilt pieces. It was broad daylight and I was supposed to be working!

I knew the problem was me and not anyone else. So, after a nice long talk with one of my dearest friends, she prescribed me not one, but two weeks off. She told me to find a way to move my deadlines back another week. Everything could wait.


So I picked up the quilt blocks and started piecing. Like I said, I did little planning, and it turned out badly. A third grader with a plastic sewing machine could have done better. I rushed. Just like I said I wouldn't. And then, the remarkable thing happened. I said, so what? Fix it.

Since Wednesday, I have been sitting in a cozy chair in my living room with a nice lamp over the quilt, and have been taking out each and every quilt stitch. Today is Friday, and I just finished this morning. Thousands of little stitches. When I first started taking the stitches out, I really resisted it. I got bored. This is similar to when I try to meditate. First eagerness, then boredom, and finally, finally peace. About half way through, I realized I was enjoying myself, and with it came the relief that the quilt could be saved.

{My friend Meg will notice she gave me most of the fabric! The bright aqua and orange flower pattern was a lining I used on my 2006 handbags.}

I ironed out all the little pinpricks from the needle, and will try a different approach to sandwiching the layers. If I had thought about it a little bit, I would have realized most of the quilts my grandmother has made are tied together with bits of colorful yarn, stuck in the center of the square, and not machine quilted at all. I'm not really going for a pom-pom look, but I think I might try some cream-colored x's in select areas.

I'm not sure what next week will look like, but I know it has to retain this feeling of moving at a slower pace, and being more in sync with my energy and my family. I'm looking forward to it.

Heirloom Quilt

My diversion of the day has been to play around with fabric swatches in order to piece together the remainder of an unfinished quilt handed down to me by my grandmother. The squares were made by my grandfather's mother. This is what one quilt block looks like:

Originally I was thinking to use variations of yellow and brown to bring out the flowers and french knots, but now that I have pleated seafoam green curtains (long story), I really want to tie in the quilt with the curtains to make the color scheme more livable. Not to mention the curtains are a bit frilly, so the pattern needs to be brocade or more elaborate than I had originally planned. How to tie in a vintage quilt with shiny curtains? That's my goal. Ideas?

Yesterday I fell in love with Heather Bailey's fabric, so I made a test layout in Photoshop (pretty haphazardly, I should add), to see if it might work.

These are the fabrics from her website that I love:

And one possible layout... this is pretty rough, however. I kind of gave up after awhile trying to tile them. I think once I had the fabric, I would rearrange the squares more, and make less uniform lines.


I know I should do a starter quilt, not having done one before, but I'm not very motivated to try a difficult pattern -- any suggestions? I have lots of fabric scraps that could be used for a for a patchwork quilt.