The Value of "Meh", Redux

This is an updated version of a post I wrote back in 2013 about Julie wrestling with her quilt, See Rock City. It was my Mother's comment that spurred Julie to make major changes in the quilt, which she had thought was finished. The "Meh" story is hinted at in Julie's book. 

Honesty is crucial in a good relationship. But so is kindness. Julie and I get along so well because we tell each other what we see in each other's work, even if it isn't complimentary. At this stage of the game, we have so much trust in each other that know it will be beneficial, and we have each gained from the other's perspective. Julie had worked so hard on her barns and they were truly breathtaking. Julie had really cracked open something inside herself and made a terrific breakthrough, but then she stopped. I knew it right away, but hesitated. I didn't want to hurt her feelings. When my mother expressed the same disdain, I knew i had to tell Julie. I knew I wouldn't be a good friend if I kept silent. So this was a big moment in our friendship. And I didn't do it via email. I picked up the phone and called her. I have to say, however, that I had NO IDEA that the SECOND part of Julie's quilt would be as big a breakthrough as her first. She didn't just go for it, she WENT ALL THE WAY. I was, and still am, so proud of her for her courage and the fearlessness with which she tackled it. And she did it (pardon the pun) like a barn on fire. Julie generally makes her quilts very methodically and patiently. But when she took the blocks apart and rebuilt the thing, she worked like a proverbial tornado. I don't think I've ever seen her work that passionately or voraciously since. Then again, I could be wrong. After all, I do live 1127 miles away...

(This jumps a bit ahead in our friendship story timeline, but I'll get back to it next time.)


Back in November of 2013, when I was making letters for Too Much Chicken, my Mother and I had lunch together.

"That quilt of yours with the box... " she said, "the one where the words pop out of it... (The Black Box)  That's a piece of art, and deserves to hang in a museum."

Then she continued, "The one you're making now, with all the letters," she paused. "Meh."

 This is an in-progress shot of the Chicken quilt. Yes, it was kinda boring.

I laughed. "Ma, the one I'm making now with the chickens is just a silly quilt. It isn't anything close to the Box. I'm not done. I've got a lot to do still."

I really enjoyed telling the story of lunch with my Mom, both on this blog and to my colleagues at work. What was really interesting though, was the reactions. Most of them were of the "You are so lucky to have a relationship with your Mom where you can tell each other what you really think," variety.

 My Mom thought Julie's quilt, "See Rock City," was a knockout, and deserved "Best in Show."

It was true, but that wasn't what struck me.

What really struck me was the concept that many artists simply don't have anybody to give them a good critique. What's a good critique?  A good critique recognizes craftsmanship (or good drawing), design (or structure), execution (or technique.) The rules apply to these no matter what the medium. A good critique will tell you if what you've created is what you think you're looking at. 

Let me explain.

Sometimes you work so hard on something you can't see it. You can't see what's wrong, you're too close. You need to step back, or take a walk and look again with a fresh eye. A good crit comes from somebody else who brings a fresh eye.

Somebody who isn't tainted by being in love with the idea.

The most important thing is the crit is about the WORK, and not the PERSON. My Mom can paint, and draw. She's been making a living as a working artist for over 40 years. She knows what she's doing, and she can tell right away. She knows to consider only what she's looking AT, and not criticize or offer her opinion on what I am trying to DO, whether my concept is a good idea or not.

We know that juries or judges don't care how much work you put into it, or how hard you tried to come close to the idea you had in mind. If the artwork doesn't say it on its own, there's not much else that can help it. (Quite frankly there's nothing that bugs me more than a little story next to the piece that explains what you should be seeing. To me, that's a crutch, and it's like cheating. Like somebody explaining the joke. Unnecessary.)

A good critique can help you know if the artwork (or quilt) says what you WANT it to say, or if it doesn't.

A good crit tells you what is working, and what isn't. What isn't? Maybe something is taking attention away from the main idea. Maybe some elements are competing with each other. Remember, a good piece of art is one where all the elements convey the main idea TOGETHER.

  My Mom and I also know the difference between what we like (subjective) and what we're looking at (objective.)  I am not interested in making traditional quilts (subjective), but I can tell a really good one from a mediocre one (objective.)

This is what my Mother looked at and said, "Meh."

 
The subjective is what the "Meh" came from that day. My Mom simply loves color, and a mostly grey chicken quilt just doesn't float her boat. (Meh!)

But "Meh" can also mean, "It's not as good as it could be." or, "It's just so-so."  It could be a good idea and poor execution, or some variation of "good start, lost energy, direction..." whatever.
  

 My Mom thinks this could be an award-winning quilt and deserves to hang in a museum.

Regular readers know I'm always after the emotional response. I want you to look at my quilts and say "WOW."  The Black Box does that. If you followed along my journey of making that quilt, you know there were times when it just didn't have that punch, and I set it aside for a while to regroup.

"Meh" isn't necessarily a BAD thing. "Meh" can simply mean, "I've seen it a million times before, it's pretty, but it's boring." If you like making pretty and same-old-same-old, that's OK. It's not for me. Which is not to say making lovely quilts is a bad thing. There are a lot of truly beautiful quilts out there. Hell, I make pretty quilts too, in between the "Arty" ones. They are different, and they have different audiences.

When my Mom looks at one of my "pretty" quilts (Sunshine, Exquisite, Rainbow Baby) and says "It's nice," in a rather bored tone, I know what she means, and I'm not offended. (For the record, my Mom loves the Red Sticks quilt, and the Sunburst Rainbow.)


The "Meh" can also be a swift kick in the ass. It's a "Look, it's okay, but you can do better than that." It's a call to action. It's a "What happened, did you lose your nerve?" or a "Is that it? You're stopping there?"

Want proof? When my Mom saw the Barns quilt when Julie first put the blocks together, do you know what she said?

"Meh."




Yup. I had had my own reservations, so I called Julie and told her. Julie had been having second thoughts on her own, so she took the quilt apart, removing the dark blue border around each barn, and then went into her studio and made it better. The result is the second photo in this post.

We learn best not by the things we do RIGHT, but from the things we do WRONG and if we're paying attention... by the things that elicit the "Meh."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

By the way, a few days later I told Julie what my Mother said about the Chicken quilt in progress ("Meh"). I told her my job was to change my Mother's opinion from "Meh" to "Magnificent."

"You're not worried about doing that are you?" Julie asked.

"Too Much Chicken" finished.

"Hell no," I replied.

When I showed my Mother the finished quilt, "Too Much Chicken," she loved it. "I love the way you used the colors."

 

I laughed, "Ma, four months ago you hated the colors."

 

"Yeah I know."

 

Don't let a "Meh" stop you in your tracks. Use it to push from "Meh" to "Magnificent."

Julie & Lynne: Inspiration Goes Back & Forth

At the end of 2011 I was making a sample quilt for a houses class I was planning. I was making my houses quilt into a quilt of the Four Seasons. Julie was following my work. "I like your houses," she wrote, "but I want to make some barns." I told her to go for it, that they were the same basic thing.

 I suggested she draw them out first so she'd know where she was going and how she could figure out how to build them.


Well, Julie took the idea and ran with it. She made a spectacular quilt, and you can read all about it here, among many other places. Julie not only shares her story about that fabulous quilt, she shared the occasionally painful process it took her to make the quilt as special as it is.

is is my Mom and the sock kitty Millie at the AQS show in Syracuse NY in 2015.

 The quilt won awards and traveled around the country on exhibit in many AQS shows. It's Julie's story, and you can read it on her blogs, here and here. I was thrilled to have been an inspiration to her.

Julie and many other quilters had made "Low Volume Quilts". I thought they were lovely and subtle, but for me they were boring as hell. I'm pretty sure I moaned about them to Julie with alarming regularity. I didn't want to make a typical low-volume quilt. I wanted to make a quilt that would thumb my nose at the concept. I wanted to make a word quilt, and when I found the right quote, I did it.

While this was happening, I had been asked to speak and teach at Quintessential Quilts in St Louis MO in the fall of 2013. It was a busy year for me.

I went to the Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington DC that spring.

I spent a few days in California in September with my son and his then girlfriend. This was the trip where I met SewGirl, and brought the four-letter word.

Julie put a countdown clock on her blog.

I was working on my speech, my class, and the logistics of getting to Missouri with a boxful of quilts. At one point, Julie said she would attend, and drive the five hours from her house to St Louis. Since I didn't want to send my quilts halfway across the country to just anybody, it was agreed I would send them to her. She and her husband Larry would photograph them, and then she'd drive to St Louis and I'd see her at the class.

I chewed on that for a bit, and then I wrote to Julie... "What if I flew to Memphis instead of St Louis? I could stay at a hotel that night, and then you and I could drive to St Louis together? I'd get to meet you in person, and we could get to know each other on the drive up there?" Julie agreed, and said I could stay her spare bedroom.

 So on Thursday October 3, 2013, after I got off a plane at the Memphis airport, I walked outside and toward a car that had this sign on it, waiting...

Look! I'm in Memphis!

It had been over five years, and I finally met my best friend in person.

Barns!

I'm getting ready to teach the Barns class tomorrow at Quilted Threads, so I am gathering up all my stuff. The class is full, but QT always creates a waiting list so I will teach the class again later, probably after the Holidays.

I'm very excited because I'll have the Colorado quilt with me, and it will be quilted! I can't wait to see it. The quilter, Janet Lee Santeusanio of Woodland Manor Quilting, will be delivering it to me later today or at QT tomorrow, I don't know which yet.

Janet Lee wrote "... those birds and chickens are so flipping cute..."

You can see every bird I've ever made if you just look through the history of this blog. If you want to make your own birds, you can buy my tutorial, for sale on Etsy.

The barns were inspired by my friend Julie Sefton, who literally wrote the book on building free pieced barns, Build-A-Barn.  Julie's spectacular quilt, See Rock City, is on display at Quilted Threads. It's well worth a trip to QT to see this quilt in person.

And you may have noticed a new button on my sidebar. I'll be teaching a Birds class at the MQX show in Manchester NH next April. Registration starts November 15th.

Barns on Barns

When Julie sent her quilt, See Rock City, to hang in Quilted Threads for the summer, she asked if I could take the quilt out for some beauty shots.

"Wouldn't it be cool if we could hang it on a barn?" I wondered.

As I drove up to Henniker on Saturday to teach a barn class, I realized I had a terrific opportunity. Quilted Threads is attached to a lovely red barn that faces the parking lot, and it is in full sun early in the morning. I'd be able to take a good photo if there were no cars in the lot. At 9 AM, I was lucky. No cars. (QT opens at 10 AM)

Mission Accomplished.

But check this out. The quilt, See Rock City, hanging in front of Quilted Threads's barn (a photo of which is in Julie's book, Build-a-Barn, and over there, across the street, the Henniker barn I recreated in fabric.

One final thing.. Julie had asked if I could take a photo of the quilt draped over the sign.

Sure thing!

Barns @ Quilted Threads

My barn quilts are on display at Quilted Threads. You can see them behind one of the cutting counters.

This is Quilted Threads's building. The shop is toward the front (painted white). You can see their barn at the back. You can also see the barn across the street that was the inspiration for my barn block. The ladies at QT tell me that customers come in the shop, see my barn blocks and recognize the barn across the street.

That is SO COOL!

Julie Sefton's quilt, See Rock City, will be on display at Quilted Threads for most of the summer.* I strongly urge you to take a trip to Henniker NH to see the quilt.

There are several reasons you should do this: First, Julie's quilt is "spectacular" according to QT's owner, Becky. Secondly, the shop itself is To-Die-For. The lighting is all color-corrected natural light, so everything looks the way it should and there are no dark corners. Third, Henniker is the vision of a typical New England town and it's a beautiful destination for a day trip, especially in summer. Lastly, Daniel's is a great place for lunch. You can sit outside on the deck overlooking the river.

*I said "most" of the summer, and I meant it. The quilt is big, so it may be a day or two before Becky and the staff find the best place to display the quilt. It's a giant, 80" wide by 100" tall, so it's not an easy task. AND Julie has asked be to take some beauty shots of the quilt, so I'll be borrowing it for a week sometime to do that.

BTW, the two build a barn classes I am teaching at QT are on June 10 and July 22. The June 10 class is filled, so look to July 22. If and when that class fills, we'll have a third date in September.

See Rock City in New Hampshire!

YES! This is Julie Sefton's magnificent quilt, See Rock City, is visiting the Granite State for a few months.

Here's a better photo.

You can see this quilt at Quilted Threads in Henniker NH. (It really is worth a special trip.) I'll be delivering it Saturday morning. I'll be teaching a barns class there in June, but it's full. There is a waiting list, and we are planning another class, so fear not.

In the meantime I've got it all to myself for a couple of days!

The Value of "Meh."

This is an updated version of a post I wrote back in 2013 about Julie wrestling with her quilt, See Rock City. It was my Mother's comment that spurred Julie to make major changes in the quilt, which she had thought was finished. The "Meh" story is hinted at in the book, and since the book is generating some terrific buzz, I thought it was worth retelling.


Back in November of 2013, when I was making letters for Too Much Chicken, my Mother and I had lunch together.

"That quilt of yours with the box... " she said, "the one where the words pop out of it... (The Black Box)  That's a piece of art, and deserves to hang in a museum."

Then she continued, "The one you're making now, with all the letters," she paused. "Meh."

 This is an in-progress shot of the Chicken quilt. Yes, it was kinda boring.

I laughed. "Ma, the one I'm making now with the chickens is just a silly quilt. It isn't anything close to the Box. I'm not done. I've got a lot to do still."

I really enjoyed telling the story of lunch with my Mom, both on this blog and to my colleagues at work. What was really interesting though, was the reactions. Most of them were of the "You are so lucky to have a relationship with your Mom where you can tell each other what you really think," variety.

 My Mom thought Julie's quilt, "See Rock City," was a knockout, and deserved "Best in Show."

It was true, but that wasn't what struck me.

What really struck me was the concept that many artists simply don't have anybody to give them a good critique. What's a good critique?  A good critique recognizes craftsmanship (or good drawing), design (or structure), execution (or technique.) The rules apply to these no matter what the medium. A good critique will tell you if what you've created is what you think you're looking at. Let me explain.

Sometimes you work so hard on something you can't see it. You can't see what's wrong, you're too close. You need to step back, or take a walk and look again with a fresh eye. A good crit comes from somebody else who brings a fresh eye.

Somebody who isn't tainted by being in love with the idea.

The most important thing is the crit is about the WORK, and not the PERSON. My Mom can paint, and draw. She's been making a living as a working artist for over 40 years. She knows what she's doing, and she can tell right away. She knows to consider only what she's looking AT, and not criticize or offer her opinion on what I am trying to DO, whether my concept is a good idea or not.

We know that juries or judges don't care how much work you put into it, or how hard you tried to come close to the idea you had in mind. If the artwork doesn't say it on its own, there's not much else that can help it. A good critique can help you know if the artwork (or quilt) says what you WANT it to say, or if it doesn't. A good crit tells you what is working, and what isn't. What isn't? Maybe something is taking attention away from the main idea. Maybe some elements are competing with each other. Remember, a good piece of art is one where all the elements convey the main idea TOGETHER.

We also know the difference between what we like (subjective) and what we're looking at (objective.)  I am not interested in making traditional quilts (subjective), but I can tell a really good one from a mediocre one (objective.)

This is what my Mother looked at and said, "Meh."

 
The subjective is what the "Meh" came from that day. My Mom simply loves color, and a mostly grey chicken quilt just doesn't float her boat. (Meh!)

But "Meh" can also mean, "It's not as good as it could be." or, "It's just so-so."  It could be a good idea and poor execution, or some variation of "good start, lost energy, direction..." whatever.
  

 My Mom thinks this could be an award-winning quilt and deserves to hang in a museum.

Regular readers know I'm always after the emotional response. I want you to look at my quilts and say "WOW."  The Black Box does that. If you followed along my journey of making that quilt, you know there were times when it just didn't have that punch, and I set it aside for a while to regroup.

"Meh" isn't necessarily a BAD thing. "Meh" can simply mean, "I've seen it a million times before, it's pretty, but it's boring." If you like making pretty and same-old-same-old, that's OK. It's not for me. Which is not to say making lovely quilts is a bad thing. There are a lot of truly beautiful quilts out there. Hell, I make pretty quilts too, in between the "Arty" ones. They are different, and they have different audiences.

When my Mom looks at one of my "pretty" quilts (Sunshine, Exquisite, Rainbow Baby) and says "It's nice," in a rather bored tone, I know what she means, and I'm not offended. (For the record, my Mom loves the Red Sticks quilt, and the Sunburst Rainbow.)


The "Meh" can also be a swift kick in the ass. It's a "Look, it's okay, but you can do better than that." It's a call to action. It's a "What happened, did you lose your nerve?" or a "Is that it? You're stopping there?"

Want proof? When my Mom saw the Barns quilt when Julie first put the blocks together, do you know what she said?

"Meh."




Yup. I had had my own reservations, so I called Julie and told her. Julie had been having second thoughts on her own, so she took the quilt apart, removing the dark blue border around each barn, and then went into her studio and made it better. The result is the second photo in this post.

We learn best not by the things we do RIGHT, but from the things we do WRONG and if we're paying attention... by the things that elicit the "Meh."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

By the way, a few days later I told Julie what my Mother said about the Chicken quilt in progress ("Meh"). I told her my job was to change my Mother's opinion from "Meh" to "Magnificent."

"You're not worried about doing that are you?" Julie asked.

"Too Much Chicken" finished.

"Hell no," I replied.

When I showed my Mother the finished quilt, "Too Much Chicken," she loved it. "I love the way you used the colors," she said. 

I laughed, "Ma, four months ago you hated the colors."

"Yeah I know."

Don't let a "Meh" stop you in your tracks. Use it to push from "Meh" to "Magnificent."

Barns on the Brain

Julie, maker of the incredibly, fabulously awesome quilt, See Rock City, and I have been talking  about barns lately. Mostly she's laughing at me. All the while she was making See Rock City, I was telling her there weren't that many barns around here.

Of course, that was when I lived in the city. Now I live out in the "boonies" (actually I'm less than five miles from the old place),  I see them all over the place. This purple one is less than a mile from my new home.

And then there's this one, on the way to work.

and this one is across the street from Quilted Threads. The last time I went to QT, I took the "back way" instead of the highway, and passed at least a dozen barns.

 I stopped to take a picture of this one. So I'm eating a lot of crow!

Julie wrote a book about making "improvisationally pieced barns," based on things we see in real barns. It's coming out in April of 2016. Julie and I have had a lot of conversations about it, and now I wanna make a barn.

Or two.

Or three.

This is my brother (the fine furniture maker)'s workshop. It looks like a barn. This photo was taken last May.

He built it (naturally), and I think this might be a good place to start. (This photo was taken last week. My brother and his wife live in the high desert in Colorado, where they already have snow on the ground.)

This is the inside of my brother's workshop. We all like to see each other's sewing studios, so I thought you might like a peek inside. Here's what he had to say about it when he sent me these pictures: "The barn is forty feet wide. The shop is heaven!!"

 (sigh)


Yup, I'm between projects and can't think of another "normal" quilt to make, so I'm gonna try my hand at making a barn.

Favorites From AQS Syracuse

Since I drove for six hours yesterday and got home at 8 PM tired and hungry, I'm going to limit this post to some of my favorite quilts (in no particular order) on display at AQS Syracuse.

My friend Julie Sefton's quilt, See Rock City. This is probably my all-time favorite, but then, I'm spectacularly biased!

"Almost Amish" by Tamara Watts-McPhail"

"Robber's Roost" by Joanne Baeth

"Weighed in the Balance" by Marilyn Smith

"Cross Purposes and Loose Ends" by Susan Mogan

"Nine Patch Show and Tell"  by Molly Allen

"The Falling" by Chen Tsui-Hua

I'll fill in the names I can't remember later, but for now it's bedtime. :-)

AQS Chattanooga - Black Box & See Rock City

Check this out!  That's my quilt, The Black Box on the left, and Julie's quilt, See Rock City, over on the right. How cool they are displayed so close together!

If you will be attending the show in Chattanooga, take a selfie with my Black Box quilt and send it to me. I'd love to see it!