God's Beauty

Jean wrote:

I was awakened at 6:30 this morning by the snow plow. I excitedly got up and in the dark went out on the porch and measured 1 1/2" of white, fluffy snow. I was instantly glad I was retired and didn't have to worry about going down the hill to Clark.

So I went upstairs to work on the borders which would complete the first narrow quilt top. The measurements, cutting and sewing went so smoothly, I was oohhing and aahhing as the quilt top came together.



It was getting light out so I raised the sheer shade of my sewing room window and just stared at the beauty outside. I felt so small.

Here I was so excited about the colors and patterns of the quilt top, thinking they were so beautiful, and here was grandeur out my own window.

I don't normally sew large quilts, so these quadriad quilts are large by my standards, but not by Tracy's, as she does queen size quilts without blinking. But looking at the snow on every single branch, I realized how small my efforts were by comparison. Here was beauty on a grand scale with exquisite detail and pattern that I could never match.

Still, I was involved in making something for God's dwelling place, and that is special in itself. Creating that quilt while being surrounded by God's beauty is both a humbling and inspiring experience.

Bump In the Road

Tracy wrote:

Jean worked so hard to get one of the 4 quilts finished so that I could start applying mass quantities of thread to it.  (The last large quilt I did had over a mile of thread ON it - that didn't count what was used to put it together in the first place)   She unveiled it while we were at a meeting in Vancouver. 

The quilt top is stunning.  I know, it's not fair to say that and not show a picture, but there ya go.  Absolutely stunning.

The quilt top is also still in Vancouver.  I managed to leave it safely stashed under the coffee table next to where I was sitting.  Didn't remember it until we were past Ridgefield, and it was late in the day and it was rain-snow-slush-Slurpee-ing, so we didn't turn around and go back to get it.




Guess what I'm doing on Friday?

Woot!

Tracy wrote:

Steve's got clothes!  He is also ::gasp!:: HAND-BASTED together, all but his hair.  What a pain in the patoot!

Okay, there's one more bit of cloak to add (below the elbow), and painting/shading to do on the white.

Upon seeing the photo (that won't be shared in the blog) Keith commented that Steve looked really good.  He realizes that when seeing ol' Steve up-close-and-personal, it's hard to see the forest for the trees (or some such thing).

Next up is everything above the eyebrows.  heh.

The Saint's New Clothes

All the time I've been working on Steve's ensemble, there's been a low-grade "Emperor's New Clothes" story perking in the back of my brain. Go figure.

Since we've decided not to reveal much more of Steve on the blog, I decided I'd give a

mind-numbingly-boring
blow-by-blow

of SOME of the ::gasp!:: handwork (yes, I believe I always DO gasp before doing handwork) that goes into making the Saint's New Clothes.

Before even touching the already-painted fabric, I trace a section of Steve (in this instance it's part of his cloak) onto a specially-treated tissue paper. No, it's not all that exotic (you do remember my fancy painting studio, don't you?) - it's the paper that the 'girls' put on the manicure table when you get fake nails. Waxed/plastic'd on one side, tissue-y on the other. Useful for a multitude of tasks, almost as important as Glad Wrap Press 'N Seal in my sewing arsenal.

Okay. Trace a section, roughly cut it out. Find the fabric, iron it (again), lay the tissue on the fabric and cut the fabric to the kinda-same-size-and-shape.

Find a clean but ancient piece of unbleached muslin. Iron it. Lay the muslin on the paper pattern and trace the outline with a blue or red chalk pencil.

Hey! Now the pictures start! Lay the drawn-upon muslin on the fabric, put obnoxiously-colored thread in the sewing machine (both top and bobbin) and sew along the chalk line with basting stitches.

I learned on this first one to break up the lengths of basting on long sections, to make it easier to remove the basting later. Of course I learned this the hard way, since this piece is the largest of all that are being "processed" this way.

   

Using, at times, two sticks and a fingernail (but always at least one stick), fold back the raw edge and press. Clip or notch as required.


Corners and tight spaces really require sticks, fingernails, steam and holding my mouth just right. (Occasionally I belted out a few notes from "God Bless America", but that was only when the iron collided with my skin.)

This picture shows making a little "edge" that's about 5 threads wide. It's a piddly thing and won't be identifiable from 20 feet away, but it does make a difference in the overall shape of the ... uh... shape.


Sheesh, did you actually get this far through the yawn-fest? The final piece, with all of the edges pressed under, ready to be pinned to the wall like a pretty butterfly.


Yeah. I did that. To all of the big and little pieces. Then I ::gasp!:: hand-basted all of the pieces of the puzzle together.

Inspiration and Collaboration

Jean  wrote:

The center quilt awaits Steve. His fans, or rather his kaleidoscopes are anxious to meet him.

It suddenly occurred to me, that beside Nadelstern's workshop, I was looking at the inspiration for the quilt everyday. It was my living room rug!


And while I work on the center quilt (waiting for Tracy to finish dressing Steve and finding a suitable background) and the rose window, the 2nd narrow quilt pieces comfortably wait their turn.


I was talking with my Woodland friends Saturday eve over dinner at Playa Azul in Kalama, and telling them what a joy it is to work in this collaboration with a person who truly collaborates. It's easy for two people to try to control all aspects of a project instead of just doing their part. What a pleasant experience!

Though it has been referred to in a number of posts, here's a picture of the Stargazer Fabric - before it was turned into Swiss cheese!