I’m piecing together a new course on patchwork and accidentally found some pictures of past work. Patchwork past work, you might say, if you like tongue twisters.
patchwork suns and moons
I was a bit startled by this one, from around 2009-ish I think. Far too colourful to be me, surely:
Square Dance
I remember the patchwork cave art creature was fun.
silk patchwork animal inspired by cave art
Lots of very tiny squares in this one – about 3/4″ I think.
Today it’s all much quieter, but equally productive. It takes a few weeks to plan and produce an online course, so I hope to have this one ready some time next month.
patchwork in progress
In the meantime I’ll be closing the shop for a couple of weeks from 13th July while I take a short break. My Teachable school will remain accessible if you’re looking for PDF templates or current courses.
Halfway through the year already. How did that happen?
The aerial map is filling up so quickly.
2024 so far
June days:
June
I really like the way the days are such different shapes on this year’s template. It feels like life. Some days feel longer or wider than others; some days have sharp corners; some days have crossing paths. Some days feel like running just to stand still.
June, detail
Some days were too hot.
June, detail
Every day, as always, just choosing thread and colour, letting stitches fall wherever they land. Marking the passage of time.
June detail
Today we can see the back of June.
the back of June
And tomorrow, July. Between times, the cloth lives in this cover. Part embroidery, part patchwork. If you missed it, you can read about the making of the cover here
Everything patchwork here this week. A little sketchbook cover, with one of Jude’s moons finding a home:
sketchbook cover, 6″ x 5″
You can see that I’ve couched a thicker thread (silk perle 3) over some of the seams, just to define some of the lines.
couching in the ditch
The little book of patchwork, I’m calling it. Somewhere to collect and join fragments of thought.
patchwork objectssketchbook page
Inspiration comes from unlikely places. This outdoor paving kit from The Range translates perfectly:
pavement patchwork
I’ve dug out these fragments of late Victorian patchwork, just to look and to touch the antique papers.
Victorian patchwork, impossibly tiny stitches
This week I’m putting a patchwork sampler together, just to see how that might work. At some point there will be a (hexagon-free) paper-piecing patchwork course. Nothing wrong with hexagons, but paper piecing is much more than granny’s flower garden.
Progress on piecing this patchwork is slow, but that’s fine and exactly as it should be.
hand piecing
Sewing by hand creates plenty of thinking time. I’m currently thinking about where I live online. I have the blog here on WordPress, an online shop with Big Cartel, and a Teachable school for online courses, plus Instagram and Facebook. Big Cartel and Teachable are quite heavy on annual maintenance fees, and ideally I’d like as much as possible in one place to simplify things more. I’m basically a Luddite, so I will need to investigate the technical options for reducing or combining everything I have into fewer separate spaces.
At the same time I’m weighing up whether to create more online courses with Teachable, or whether to create some sort of exclusive subscriber-only content for sharing more process videos and techniques etc. That would probably mean setting up something like Patreon, which would result in even more online homes, unless there’s a way to do something like that here on WordPress.
I’m also considering whether to continue offering overseas shipping for physical goods like fabrics and threads. International shipping is very expensive, it can take several weeks to reach its destination, and there can be additional customs charges when it does arrive. I have no control at all over any of that, but fielding the questions and occasional complaint does take time and energy. Customs charges seem to be particularly prevalent in European countries since the UK, in its ill-informed judgement, decided to leave the EU.
The box of patchwork pieces is basically a box of separate thoughts, plans and ideas. I just need to join them together.
There’s a lot going on here. Lots of beginnings but, as always, nowhere near enough time for the middles and the ends.
I’ve rounded up (squared up) some neutral and tea-dyed scraps for patchwork pieces, which will be a quilt eventually. (Cream pieces on a cream rug – someone tell the photographer the artist could have made this easier. Oh hang on, that’s me. And me.)
patchwork jigsaw puzzle
Patchwork, for me, is always about finding or defining connections. Puzzling things out, making sense of things, piecing things together from a few clues. The joining of fragments, little flashes from the past, collecting memories into one place. Because we are our memories, to a certain extent. When we lose the ability to remember, our sense of self feels less secure because the thread that holds us between past and present is broken. We end up losing ourselves along with the unremembered experiences. I think of patchwork as a kind of holding together.
patchwork in progress
I like to piece patchwork in the evenings while watching TV or listening to music. Nice relaxing thing to do.
And that would be fine, except there’s already a nice relaxing evening job in progress. I either have to finish that before I can get to the patchwork, or I have to put that down (again) to work on the piecing.
If you’ve been with me a while, you might recall the beginnings of A Long Life, which has become the current evening project. I started it a couple of years ago and have been picking it up and putting it down ever since.
A Long Life
It’s about six inches wide, and when it’s finished will contain 30,000 stitches. I have no idea how long it is – I won’t measure it until it’s done – but I do know that currently it carries 18,788 stitches. Yes, I count them as I go along.
A Long Life
I change colour for every decade (every 3,500 stitches or so) and change thread for the start of each new year. Factoring in leap years, when it’s had its thirty-thousandth stitch, it will represent the number of days in the life of someone who is just over 82. I have no idea why I’m doing this.
details from A Long LifeA Long Life rolled up
On top of that I have a couple of other possible big projects whirring away in the background, one of which might be a new online course on zero-waste stitching (aka Using All the Scraps).
Definitely playing a game of Tetris with time here. Move one thing up to make room for another thing, and so on more or less indefinitely. Good job I like to be busy.
The last day of May and another monthly block complete on this year’s stitch journal, marking time and witnessing the passage of days.
the year so far
May always feels like quite a long month to me but they all fly by in the end.
31 days in May
No real plan, as always. Just threading a needle and placing a few stitches every day. Watching what happens.
May, detail
Some of the stitches end up looking like footprints. Which is just what they are, really. Steps along tracks and paths that lead somewhere.
May, detail
People often ask about the curly/loopy stitching around the edge of some of the blocks. It’s just silk boucle yarn couched down with a fine thread. Nice effect with very little effort.
May detail
I’m easing into a more summery palette for this middle section of the year.
May, detail
As usual, I don’t always like every single block. It doesn’t matter. Each block only functions as a witness; it doesn’t have to be beautiful. We can’t undo the moments or go back in time and change the past, which is why I don’t ever unpick the stitches I don’t like. It is what it is, we acknowledge its faults, and we move on. As soon as each stitch is completed, it becomes part of the past and therefore can’t be altered. It can be very therapeutic to accept the imperfections.
The other side always interests me. In some cases I prefer it.
I got ever so slightly sidetracked from what I started last week. I had to interrupt proceedings to deal with the scraps box, which was overflowing (and I forgot, in my distraction, to obtain photographic evidence of said abundance, but I know you’ve all seen an overflowing scraps box before, and I bet most of you have one of your own). I need the scraps box for something else right now, and that was a whole other sidetracking experience, cutting out lots and lots of paper piecing scraps. The scraps box is now temporarily a patchwork-pieces box, holding it all together.
temporary change of function for the scraps box
I sorted the scraps pile into lots of smaller collages where every tiny fragment will have its place.
delicious fabric scraps
I’ve also rounded up some very tiny/narrow strips and offcuts – selvedges, hems, seams, rolled hems from chiffon scarves etc) – all of which can – and will – be used.
can we use them? Yes we can
The tiny strips can be stitched across the collaged pieces quite effectively:
layered scraps and narrow strips
There are a few little collages so far; these are about 4 or 5″ square:
collaged scraps
I’m thinking of them as spots of time, a la Wordsworth (yes, Wordsworth again – no better poet, in my view, for exploring themes of experience, loss, and memory). In his long poem The Prelude, Wordsworth describes spots of time as moments that become profound memories with the capacity to rejuvenate and repair. I think most of the square collages might become round eventually:
collaged fabrics under a circular viewfinder
This one I think might just be complete as it is:
layered scraps, very simply stitched, about 5″ square
A square spot of time perhaps. I guess memories come in all shapes and sizes.
Spare a thought for poor birdie, though. I will be dismantling his nest.
This piece takes its title from Wordsworth’s 1804 poem ‘Ode on the Intimations of Immortality’:
‘Strength in what remains’, 15″ square
It hasn’t photographed well on this very dark wet Wednesday; the colours and layers are a little more subtle in real life.
Strength in what remains, details
The text fabric (above, top left) is a handwritten page from a nineteenth-century almanac that I scanned and printed onto tea-dyed cotton. If you iron fabric to a piece of freezer paper that exactly fits your printer (usually A4 in the UK), it’s surprisingly straightforward. I expected it to get snarled up and jammed in the bowels of the printer but it sailed through quite smoothly. I used to print on fabric quite often and had forgotten how effective it can be. If you set it with a hot (ish) iron after printing it appears to be reasonably water resistant, though I haven’t yet tried washing it.
Strength in what remains, detail of hand stitch and layered sheers
There are a couple more like this in progress, an ‘Intimations of Immortality’ mini-series, perhaps.
‘Something that is gone’ in progress
There’s also a heap of loveliness on the table that will be turned into something a little larger…
Recently I’ve been able to make a start on some new work, and the process of this modest beginning has been a truly joyful thing. I hadn’t realised how much I’ve been needing to do this.
current sketchbooks
So far, it’s about time, experience and memory. I’m beginning with the opening lines from T S Eliot’s Four Quartets as inspiration:
Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable.
What a vast line that is: All time is unredeemable. It’s irreversible and we can never get it back. The only time we can be sure of is time past, present in memory only.
The sketchbook I’m using for the wet media is a Fabriano aquarelle A4 sketchbook, 200gsm pages (no affiliation). Just firm enough for taking wet paint but not so stiff that the pages don’t bend.
Of course it had to have a cover:
watercolour sketchbook front coverback cover (and I prefer the back…)
And some details from its pages:
sketchbook page, oil pastel resist with watercolour and inkwhite acrylic ink as resist with watercolour wash over the top
new stitched work in progress
Mostly I’ve been exploring using watercolour, ink and collage. The above layered stitched work in progress is based on this paper collage:
collage, untitled
I’ve been doing very loose sketchbook work, which is a great thing. I like the way it can be more a physical than cerebral process. I like to paint standing up rather than sitting because it somehow enables you to inhabit the process more, and to move around over the page more easily. It seems to generate and capture more energy. Drawing and painting can involve your whole arm as well as your hand, making expressive abstract marks and laying down whatever colours speak to you in that moment.
These are four separate sketches (unintentionally four quartets, perhaps), using inks, watercolours, and basic mark-making techniques, with no preconceived ideas about where it’s headed or what it’s going to be. Not my usual colour palette, but each one valuable in its own way, and time well spent. Even if you make something you don’t like much, it’s always worthwhile because you learn something. I think all of these might translate to cloth and stitch.
watercolour and ink over masking fluid resist
Also some calmer blocks and stripes, just to see.
watercolour greenstime past, time present, time future
It’s exciting to see these colours, shapes and compositions emerging. It may or may not lead somewhere, but for now it’s enough in itself. I have much more to read, and more blank sketchbook pages to fill, and it’s utterly delicious.
One of the challenges of being self-employed is that you have to do All The Tasks, including the tasks you don’t enjoy much and the ones you aren’t very good at. In addition to that, the less creative tasks (admin, accounting, stock control etc) seem to take a disproportionate amount of time, leaving less available ‘creative’ time. It’s merely an observation, not a complaint; I’m very happy with where I am, but also I’m often surprised by how little time or space there seems to be for my own work to grow and develop.
For me one of the tasks on the ‘meh’-list is self-promotion and marketing, so when someone is kind enough to do this for me, it really makes my day.
Jen has very thoughtfully taken the time to produce a really lovely response to my Intuitive Daily Stitching course here – a glowing review and some very lovely words. (Following the link may result in a pop-up asking if you want to subscribe to Substack – just click ‘no thanks’ and you should be able to see the post.)
If you haven’t already, you can sign up for the course on my Teachable site here.
It will probably be a while before I dye more fabric or threads, so what’s in the shop is currently all there is. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I may never be able to keep up with the demand for thread (it’s physically impossible for one person, I had mild repetitive strain injury from winding the last batch) so new thread will happen as and when I can fit it in.
For now, I need to set aside some time to read, gather some thoughts, and start some new work – more of which later.
