A little indigo a little Japan a little Jude

I was deeply moved by the quilts of Shizuko Kuroha at FOQ in Birmingham last weekend. A lovely weekend spent with my daughter meandering up from and back to the South Coast.

This was my second time at the show, and again Christine was there exhibiting; this time with unFOLD, a textile group she belongs to. All the works were themed around Lynn Knight's fascinating book book "The Button Box". Here you can see Christine with her "Just Got To Finish the Mending", in the background and below, mending being metioned in the book as an informal contraceptive of sorts - read the book and you'll find out. Christine's piece, which we have watched develop during our Studio 11 days, is densely stitched over a deconstructed shirt, with the darning stitch so often used to mend, and mend, and mend in those days when we still did that sort of thing. It was marvellous to see it hung in the gallery space along with so many other thought provoking textiles.

If you look closely there's just a hint of a daughter in the background as well!

While there we also really enjoyed Ruth Singer's textile meditations on the lives of women prisoners. Again, such an inspiration to see how textile artists express their thoughts about life and ideas using the medium of cloth and stitch. A thing I aspire to, but haven't quite worked out the how yet!

But back to Kuroha and her beautiful indigo quilts, impeccably pieced and hand quilted, each one a symphony of movement and subtle colour. They really are works of art. She was there in her gallery space, signing books for eager middle aged ladies, amongst whom I include myself (though not in this picture); her smile so sweet as she inscribed the book with my name and her signature. 

I was touched to the core, both by her and her art.

On my return home I had a week off work, but am preparing for two momentous things: first, at the end of the month, after forty years of fulfilling work in my local library service, I am taking early retirement - a big step, but one I am longing for. The ability to just go to bed in the afternoon and sleep for a couple of hours will be transformative! Oh, and get on with my stitching, and weaving, and dyeing, and gardening, and perhaps a little piano playing, and a thousand other things that have been waiting for "when I have time".

Then in September, I am off to Bhutan. How easily that types itself out, what an amazing thing to be doing. One of Colouricious' textile trips, I will be beside myself when it happens. Will try and post a couple of updates while I'm there.

So, Indigo, Japan, Jude? What's the link you are asking yourself?

Well, I need to take a sketchbook to Bhutan, obviously. I loved the simplicity of the indigo quilts, and all sketchbooks should have a cover. Especially one made from a couple of pairs of jeans I haven't worn since my slim early twenties, but have always kept because "I'll do something with these one day".

And Jude? Well this is a sort of Jude house, patched and darned and quietly stitched.

A little homage cloth

This is a little something I'm working on at the moment. Some Conny and Harry's sheeting, eco printed with onion skin and maple leaf some considerable time ago, left to be thought about.

Last weekend I took them out, extracted the leaf prints and dyed the rest a gentle turquoise, some shibori'ed, some just dipped.


I dyed them in little batches, each of thirty minutes, then took out of the dye and plunged in a soda rich solution in another bucket.

Now cut into pieces of regular size and proportion, I've been hand stiching them together using the Jude method of (in my case) finger pressed paperless piecing. She has made a significant proportion of her early online classes available free. It was these that got me started, though I have changed her basic nine patch construction for something a bit more free form.

Influences paid homage to with this?

Jude              India                 Susan                   Judy                    Lotta

all women whose blogs I follow regularly and whose ideas I ponder on and absorb.

I am struck, as one can only be from personal experience, by the portability and ease with which this human powered assemblage of pieces can bring small scraps of fabric together into a larger whole. You can finger press seam allowances, stitch anywhere, become absorbed in the rhythm of the stitching, recognise a deep link with stitchers everywhere and at all times, that swish of thread through fabric, the shape and pattern found in stitching, the way the whole thing, because it's taking place slowly, allows for modification along the way.

Not quite complete yet, and pre proper pressing here. I have changed layout, orientation, combination of these bits of fabric as they have joined with one another and, because I'm working with regular blocks of 1,2,3 and 6 inches, I can chose to combine elements in various ways, which all build to a maximum 6 inch block. These are now being assembled into a larger whole, which will then get a border to frame. A twelve patch.

Then, of course, more stitch

nine patch laid

Being a follower of Jude I have developed a great affection for the sweet simplicity of the nine patch. Of course she takes it and does the most wonderful things, setting it free to celebrate the spirit of a loved cat, stitching it into stars, bending and weaving it around the moon. I love the subtlety of her work, the frayed edges and the gentle colours, the way she invests so much of her life into it's being, and brings us into her story with her honest words and beautiful cloths. I have watched what she does for some time now, popping over for each update, diving off into the blogs of her followers to see where others take her inspiration. One day, when I have more time, I would like to take one of her online classes, to see where that inspiration could take me. But for now I am learning, learning, learning, in between working and doing life. As well as taking Christine's monthly classes at Studio11, I am currently stitching samplers for the City and Guilds; our theme is grids - how appropriate. So we've had a splish splash splosh day with Barbara and have been sent away to explore the grid and to try our hand at laid work and couching. Well, I've not done either before, so am really enjoying learning new things. I've done a little bit of couching, but there will be more to do before next Saturday if I have time

With the template we made at the class, which reminds me irrepressibly of the Playschool Windows, I've done some design work on grids,

 my favourite probably being the black and white one

and I've been practicing my laid work as ... a nine patch

Of course this is quite different from Jude's subtle colours and complex cloths. It's a simple exercise in stitching, and tremendous fun to do. But still, it has the tiniest element of Jude in it, just a whisper in the shadows of the stitches really, a thought of her, as my needle went in and out, to and fro, weaving colours into cloth.

It pleases me. I hope it will pass muster on Saturday when we have our next class.

London, the Downs and Autumn

This weekend we went up to London to take my dear one's grandson to the station to go home. Said grandson had been very useful chopping wood, not drawing water, but painting the other shed a deeper brown so that it blends more into the background of the garden. All very much appreciated, and we enjoyed having him to stay, but it was time for him to go back to the frozen north in Yorkshire, so he could spend the late afternoon kayaking at which, I understand, he is rather good.

Since we were there we took the time to look round.  The King's Cross refurbishment is stunning, a great filigree arc of steel and light which ties it all together and brings the outside inside in a breathtaking fashion.

After we'd seen grandson off, we wandered down to Tate Modern, now surrounded by all sorts of shiny new buildings cheek by jowl with the old.

We went to see the Munch Exhibition, which was extremely enjoyable,. but raised a lot of questions in my mind about the why's and wherefore's of what makes an artist's work notable, or worth seeing. I enjoy Munch's work, but the paintings on show seemed to me to be sketchy and unfinished, lacking the emotional resonance of some of his earlier works. There were also quite a few rather tiny, blurry photographs which, we whispered to ourselves sotto voce, might have been less notable had they been taken by someone else! Still, it was a good show and worth seeing. It's always a deep pleasure to be able to get up close to works of art, looks the brush strokes, the mark making, the blend and flow of the paint, feel the energy of the artist and then stand back and take in the whole.

When we left the Tate, we went around to the river side of the building to cross over the bridge to get the Tube. I absolutely love this planting of slender birch trees at the front, it always reminds me of Klimt's Birch Forests

 We crossed the Millennium Bridge

 Were amazed by the Shard

Then found ourselves a train to bring us away from the busy dirtiness of London and home through my beloved Downs

Once home I set to with putting the various bits of Autumn together - tacking on the left, very much in the style of Jude - whose videos are well worth watching if you want to see how her patient stitching build into wonderful things. Sadly her blog no longer has a list of links to individual videos, though they are still all there within the structure of her blog. On the right it all looks a little bit squonk but will, I hope, find more structure once the stitching happens. What stitching? Hmmm, not sure yet, I'm waiting for it to tell me, thought I do have an idea to begin with, and you can't go beyond until you begin.

Autumn beginning to happen

I mentioned this little piece quite a long time ago now here. It has been sitting in the study waiting patiently  for me while I was busy with other things. I took it up again last week and played about with it, pinning and repinning, photographing each redesign so I could have a think about how it was to go together. Eventually I printed little versions of each photograph in Black and White - OK sort of sepia really, but monochrome, so I could see the design and the balance of tones without the distractions of colour.

I thought I'd decided on the version below as a format, but once I'd started pinning and then tacking the bits onto the ground cloth, I realised that I preferred to leave the right hand edge of blue in one line, rather than staggered as it is here. It feels more secure, better enclosed, protective; protection seems to be a feeling developing with this piece....
Gosh, hark at me, talking as though I were some kind of expert - I promise, I'm not!

So, I've got the most part of it tacked down now, ready for the "proper" stitching - no that's not the work in progress above, I'll take another picture when it's a bit further along, but I have managed to get that odd little swing from left to right in the background sorted out now. I have a vague idea abut how I want to do this, but only very vague, I'm quite happy to let it become as the stitching takes it. I watch Jude's magic blog and see how she allows her cloths to tell her their story as she stitches them. I also try to keep up with a wonderful variety of others, who also follow her path. I know I can't manage the same, but will see where this one takes me. The gentle pink of the background was once a bridesmaid's dress, a vibrant magenta velvet with swansdown at the neck, sleeves and hem. I tried a little bit of the waste fabric (found in a box, having been hoarded by Mum over the years) in one of my earlier dyeing experiments. A lot of the colour leached out in the pot, but I rather like its soft, muted hue now. I have to say, I did adore the dress. Mum made it for me, and I really felt like a princess for the day

January light

The little Goddess is evolving, as is the space her servant works in. My study has been transformed by the addition of curtains and by dropping the nets (horrible things) down to half the window height. Result?




The sunlight now streams through, warming the atmosphere and illuminating where it lands.

there is a view through. I need some privacy screen at the bottom of the window, as we are quite visible from the road, but hadn't realised how confining the nets felt until I moved them - they previously covered the top half as well. I don't like the ones that are there now, they're synthetic and unappealing, but they shield me from view. I'd like to create something like this, I admire Jude's work hugely, but know I have the neither the skill nor verve.

The glimpse of the sky above, netted in the branches of the tree outside, can be seen opening out as one walks through the hallway from the rear of the house.

It is also thrown through the prisms of the glass in the door,




bounces down the hallway



and is netted briefly in the walnut at the bottom of the garden

 before winging it's way through the gulls feathers and into the landscape beyond.

A feather for Jude

This little feather is flying all across the sea to Jude in New York for her Magic Feather project. The feather is for my daughter Jen - Jen the hen, but not a hen's feather, rather a wren's. The rose is for Mum, Rosemary really, but always "Granny Rose" to Jen, both much loved women encircled by my love for them. You can see other feathers flying in to the project here. It is one of the things I've been stitching recently, along with Uffington who is gradually getting his space filled by many many little stitches. I'll post a picture of him later, when his landscape is more complete.

All that stitching though, is not good for the bit of me that needs much more exercise, so today my dear one and I went to the Seven Sisters Country Park for a wonderful perambulation along the meanders and down to the sea, where we saw

wide open spaces

layers of landscape

layers of time, flint and chalk slowly, slowly sifting down over millennia

marsh samphire, glowing red despite the hazy day

 greater burdock, all spikes and rough edges

carline thistle, like little captured suns

teasel rising sturdy above a soft bed of silverweed

stone and wood, weathered and feathered to soft shapes

sea lavender drawing lacy patterns against the while chalk cliffs

and a great many people, all having a pleasant time wandering along, photographing each other, listening to the wind, the sea, themselves, each other, mobile phones, dogs and children

We walked for a goodly while, the day hot and humid with much moisture in the air, other's conversations drifting in and out of focus as we passed fellow walkers. Then we stopped for lunch at the Exceat visitor centre where this fern caught my eye - such a soft glowing green against the weathered tiles

and drove back home over Beachy Head and down through Eastbourne to the Pevensey levels.

A good way to work off the stiffness and stagnation that comes from sitting too long - even if that sitting is productive !