Five

This quilt could have been called Rainbow Sherbet. Or perhaps a light lemon sorbet. You know that fancy dining convention of serving sorbet in the middle of the multi-course meal to cleanse the palate? Well, this is that quilt for me.

After finishing Roots I needed a little break.  Something light, something easy, something fun. With a baby shower to attend this past weekend, for the new baby of a dear cousin, I whipped up this little quilt. 

You see, I am 5 days older than this particular cousin. Growing up I also loved to point out that I was 5 days smarter, better looking, funnier, taller, and stronger than him.  I stopped teasing him when he grew to well over 6 feet tall and could kick my butt when we wrestled. Damn dancer's legs on him!

This little gem was easy to make, but a lot of fun.  You could easily swap out the appliqued #5 with a letter of choice. I fused the number on and satin stitched around it. Otherwise the rest of it is simple piecing. The back was a little polka dot number, as was the binding.

Free pattern coming out on Friday.

Chicken and the Egg

So, which came first? The chicken or the egg? In my case, was it the quilt or the bike?

Talk about life imitating art! Hubby bought me a bike for my birthday last week. I'm not allowed to ride my mountain bike because of my still bad knees, but a cruiser was given the OK by my physiotherapist. We walked into the bike shop and I knew immediately which one I wanted.  Thankfully it actually felt pretty comfortable to ride.

But if I didn't know any better, I would have guessed I made the quilt after I got the bike!

The only problem is that I don't think my yellow helmet with bongo playing skeletons is much of a match for the bike.

I am ridiculously happy to be moving on the bike.  I rode in the evening sun, drinking in the colours and smells of our neighbourhood - a riot of spring. Movement has never made me so happy.

Roots

Roots

May 2010

Approximately Twin Sized

100% cotton, original design

Here it is, aptly named, my Dad's quilt: Roots.  Roots for the garden growth that sustained my Baba and Dido as well as our family.  Roots for the foundation of where we come from. Roots to acknowledge such an important part of our family legacy.  Roots to impart growth the the family as the next generations arrive and thrive.

This was a true family project. My sister and sister-in-law and I pieced together the top, with a few helpful hands from my daughters and husband. Hubby and my brother watched the 6 kids so we could get that done, while my Mom kept the secret and took care of my sister's dog when she was away to get the top done. Then my brother and sister-in-law found the fabric for the back (so much Mark Lipinksi Krakow - how appropriate). They, with their kids, basted the quilt. I quilted it, again with input from Hubby and help from the girls. Here are my brother and I putting the finishing touches on the quilt. Me, the binding, and he, the label. (This picture entertains me so, the surgeon doing hand stitching.)

Here is a broader view of the quilt, off the back deck of my brother's house.  A house my Dad built for them. My Dad is a builder, always has been. He is one of those guys that doesn't know how not to work, so he is always happy to be putting something together. Of late, he's been spending some time with crochet hooks instead of hammer and nail. 

Now, some details. This is part of the flower patch. A 2 inch checkerboard, with free motion quilting. See those little flowers interspersed here and there?

This is the house. Baba and Dido's house was this tiny house that my Dad himself help build, probably back in high school. It was probably less than 500 square feet. It consisted of a sitting room, an eat-in kitchen, one bedroom plus another sleeping area, and an entry/pantry. At some point my Dad added on another room, creating two bedrooms in total. And I still remember, back in the 80s, when the bathroom, and running water, was added.

It was quite a shock to the system to visit the house - we were suburban kids. I hated using the outhouse, and our arrival meant sleeping in stuffy beds, listening to the drinking and yelling of Ukrainian visits. Even to this day, it shows me what one can do in a small house.

On two sides of the house was a boardwalk made of wood. A small forest was on the back side, and a small lawn on the front.  Otherwise the house was surrounded by garden.

No Ukrainian garden would be complete without dill and onions! Each of the veggies in the garden was quilted individually, with some brown, tight stipple in between.  In fact, looking at these close-ups, you will see that each section was quilted individually.  I would say I used at least 20 different threads throughout the quilt. Time-consuming and frustrating at times, but worth it.

The white picket fence that led up to the house was a perfect spot to really personalize the quilt. I practiced my cursive writing and put the family's names on the fence. This frames the yard with the picnic table, complete with a box of drying onions on it.

This Toe-Catcher photo shows the slough/dug out at the front of the property, complete with the little dock where we stood to gather water for the garden. Or where we caught frogs to freak out my Mom.

This is the label for the quilt. My brother is a label star. He found the grain elevator image. It was perfect because both my parents grew up across the street from the grain elevator. He played with the image, adding the town name and the necessary details about the quilt.

And here we are sharing the quilt with Dad, at a family brunch. It was presented with little fuss, but we all spent a lot time pouring over the details. I didn't see any tears from my Dad, but that isn't surprising. He's a gruff, tough man. But he knew what it was right away and definitely appreciated it. I only hope that it keeps him warm for all his upcoming naps on the couch.

(This quilt shared as part of the Spring 2010 Blogger's Quilt Festival.)

Throwback - A Digression

I'm not a quilt history expert, I'm just pretending to be one right now. After a week of browsing the quilts and exhibits of Quilt Canada I am very tempted to stand up and declare that there is no such thing as modern quilting.

Hold on, so far I only said I was tempted to say it.

Let's take a few steps back. You've heard me say before that I don't like to believe that I have a style in the quilts I do. To me a style meant that you could look at one of my quilts and instinctively know it was mine, or a rip off. I'd like to think I am adventurous enough to try lots of different things and that I can't be pinned down. (Pardon the pun.)

My first observation in having a quilt hung in the Invitational Show at Quilt Canada and seeing it up there next to some 500 or 600 other quilts is that I do kind of have a style. Or at least what I did was markedly different from 99% of what was there. It isn't that this makes me unique, just unique among participants at the show. It forced me to step back and examine the bulk of my quilts and realize that while you can't pin me down on colours, layout, or techniques, you can accuse me of bold, simple designs. Repetition of shapes or construction methods (improv) is quite common in most of what I do. So, maybe after all, I do have a bit of a style.

It pains me to admit that and my rebellious nature means I am aching to do something precise and varied in design. That will have to wait until I finish this thing.

The next observation I made is that I am not likely to ever, or at least in the near to mid-term future, likely to show well in a big, conventional show. I'm not saying I won't enter, I just doubt I would show well. There was one Gees Bend inspired quilt in the National Juried show, but that's it. The rest of it demonstrated some phenomenal quality, but only about 1% of it was something I would love to try. Just like machine quilting was a big deal when it started entering in shows in the 80s, it might be a while before a quilter like me could show well.

And I am really only referring to design here because - not to toot my own horn - I think my technique is pretty close in comparison. Except for maybe hand applique and some details, but I'm okay with that. Most people are intimidated by a big show, but I found it confidence inspiring that, barring quilting the life out of my pieces, my skills are pretty good.

So I crutched around the show - admiring quality work, intrigued by the crazy use of layering techniques, blown away by teeny tiny stippling - but I didn't get overly excited by much. There was an incredible 3D piece that resembled a diorama that was absolutely incredible, but that was it. Here I was, in the face of the current show quilt world of Canada these days and I was kind of bored. It was as if I'd met my good-on-paper- guy and realized that we had nothing in common. Pretty to look at it, but nothing to talk about. And certainly no chemistry.

Lest you think I am being disparaging of the artists, let me say that I have nothing but great things to say about the artists, teachers, and quilters I met. They were the inspiring ones, as people.

My last stop on the quilt show tour was an exhibit that was displaying antique sewing machines, furniture, and quilts. And it felt like I was kind of entering a comfortable place, even in a convention center. It should be noted that I am a mid-century modern girl, so it wasn't the antiques. Rather, it was the quilts. Simple, bold, clear colours (despite their age), repetitive designs, and almost exactly what you see being made with newer fabric all around the blogosphere of modern quilters.

Seriously, this display could have almost been a display of quilts from many a popular blogger today. And here we are on the internet flogging modern quilting like it is something we just made up. Yes, the importance of history and tradition is acknowledged, but people often come to modern quilting as either an evolution or rebellion from traditonal quilting. Well, I would now argue that modern quilting is actually just really, really traditional quilting. Before people got caught up in intricate pieced patterns with a million different templates and detailed quilting.

Oh, and just because you throw the word wonky or improv in front of it doesn't necessarily make it modern.

Did you know machine quilting is not an invention of the last 20-30 years? People were doing it over 100 years ago. You just don't see many examples of it because most of it was grid quilting and those quilts served as functional quilts, likely loved and used to death. Thank-you Sue Nickels for this tidbit and example. Okay, none of us think straight lines are new, but it may be argued that the prevalent use of straightline quilting is on the rise among self-described modern quilters (and almost non-existent at the show).

What else is on the rise? Easy, fast quilts. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this, but I got a great kick out of Mark Lipinski commenting that if the world came to an end but the quilts made it, the next inhabitants of the planet would think our arts were limited to Turning Twenty patterns! He pushed for quilters to return to a little complexity, to take the time on our pieces, to savour the process.

I would add that blogging might make the churn worse. We all want content, right? I don't know many who quilt for the sake of blogging, but ask yourself if you pick simpler projects just to have something to post? At least every now and then? Or, ask yourself how some of your favourite bloggers manage to finish so many quilts? Lifestyle aside, look at the quilts and the detail of the quilting they post.

So, this whole modern quilting thing. I can say for sure that I have a new perspective on it. And I don't think it is as revolutionary as some think it is. It really is a throwback to the traditional, traditional quilting, as this post also mentions. Just with prettier fabrics. (Although, really, so many of the popular designer fabrics are very vintagy, but with modern colours.)

I'm not coming down on the movement. It really is a movement, fueled by the internet. That's why the Modern Quilt Guild is so fascinating to me. From the internet grew a community that is now spreading like wildfire into the traditional guild model. This is awesome because no matter how much we share online (too much, at times) real connections with real people matter. Without it would be like doing nothing but designing quilts on the computer and never playing with fabric.

Beyond that, I think one of the best things about the movement is that it, and the proliferation of such bold fabrics, is bringing younger quilters to the sewing machines. And trust me, after a week with a whole bunch of 50-60 something women who complain their daughters and granddaughters don't want to quilt, this is a very good thing. And who knows, in time, we may be the ones winning ribbons? One day there may indeed be a Throwback category.

Artists, in order of appearance:

1. Forgot to record this one, apologies.

2. Donna Clement

3. Me, in front of Grass

4. Mary Sullivan Holdgrafer

5. Cheryl A. Bock

6. Annette Johnston

7. Forgot to record this one, but it is a Heritage Park Quilter of Distinction

8. Sharon Stoneman

9. Various Antique quilts

10. More various Antique quilts

11. Forgot to record this antique one as well.

12. Flossie Douglas