Road Trip

Back in October 2013, I had flown to Memphis so I could drive up to St Louis with Julie. I crossed the mighty Mississippi for the first time (not in an airplane).

As you can see, the sky was a big part of the landscape. It is not like that at all in New England.

This is something else you don't see much in New England. A straight road that goes on for more than 60 miles. Straight and flat. I'm pretty sure I wore Julie's ears out by commenting how STRAIGHT and FLAT everything was. You could just see forever.

There's nothing like a five hour drive to get to know somebody. Julie and I had not yet been in the habit of having monthly two hour long telephone conversations (that would come much later.) It was really the first time we would spend any kind of time together. It's a good thing we hit it off right away. You know that feeling like you meet somebody and you feel like you've known them forever? And you can talk about anything and everything and you're comfortable? That's what it was like for Julie and me. We seemed to have the same sort of rhythm. I'd say, "Not now, but in the next half hour or so I'm gonna need a pit stop and to get out and stretch my legs," and Julie would say something like, "yup, me too." And when it came time to find a place for lunch, we were both comfortable with whatever we found. And when we took a wrong turn, neither one of us freaked out about it, we just said, Oops, I think we shoulda taken that other turn...

We talked about family and quilts and I don't know what else. I do remember we talked about the class on free pieced letters I would teach the next day. At one point Julie said, "Well you've made over a thousand letters..." and I said, NO! Not THAT many! So I got out my notebook and I counted.  Yes indeed, I had made over a thousand.

When you travel with a sock kitty, who represents a REAL kitty, and is essentially the reason you're on this trip, this is the type of pictures you take.

But when you're with somebody who GETS IT, like Julie did, THIS is the kind of pictures that get taken. (Proving once again that sometimes you need somebody else to open your eyes to some things.)

It was Julie who pointed out these birds. "Oh look, Millie... lunch!"

In St Louis we met up with Cherie who had hired me to teach and talk at Quintessential Quilts 2013. Cherie was THRILLED to meet Millie. Cherie had been following Millie's blog for years, and followed me onto my quilting blog when that started a couple of years later. That's how she knew about me, and asked me to be the speaker and teacher at QQ2013.

And people think I'm joking when I say if it wasn't for Millie I wouldn't be here. Like my friend Tracey used to tell her hubby when he'd get upset at their cat Monty... "No Monty, no Millie. No Millie, no Lynne."

I'm tellin' ya. You can't make this stuff up.

This is the class photo, taken at the end of the day. That's Julie in the middle of the back row. Julie was an extra set of eyes and ears. She'd keep an eye out for a student who was stuck, or confused, or who needed my attention "Lynne, Karen needs help." Or "Show them the Ruler Trick."

After class, Julie and I went out for dinner, and met Brenda who told the story about how her mother made chicken and... Well. You're gonna have to go read it. It's right here.  Julie was right there with me when the idea for the chicken quilt, Too Much Chicken, got started.

For me the highlights of the trip include the dinner where I got the idea for the Chicken quilt, and the next day, when Julie and I... well. You'll just have to wait and see.


If you want to make your own free pieced letters, you can get my tutorial here, at my Etsy shop. It's an instant download so you can get started right away.


Oh, Julie Sefton made the "Flying Monkeys" quilt. I've asked her to write a blog post about it so you can read it. I don't know if she will, but you can find Julie's blog here.

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."

The Chicken is Home

My quilt, Too Much Chicken, is back from its trip around the USA, and now I will sew the last two labels on the back of the quilt.

A Little Hand Work

My sewing machine is in the shop for repairs and a tune up. I may have it back later this week.  In the meantime I've been sewing the AQS labels on the back of the Black & White Crayons...

and Too Much Chicken.

Of course Millie had to help.

This is my quilting buddy, Julie Post (who blogs as Joe Tulips, which is an anagram of her name), with Too Much Chicken when it was at the AQS show in Des Moines. Julie is an awesome quilter, and a fellow member of the SSOBB. Thanks for the photo, and the show pin, Julie!

Winner Winner, Chicken Dinner!

My quilt, Too Much Chicken has placed at AQS Chattanooga.

Update: I won an Honorable Mention in the Wall Quilts, Long Arm Quilted Category.

I don't know what it's won, but It is certainly something I never expected. I made the quilt on a lark as the result of an funny dinner conversation and never expected it to be anything more than a couch quilt. But Gerald Roy told me to submit it to AQS Paducah, and it was accepted there, to my astonishment. From there it went to Syracuse and Grand Rapids, now Chattanooga and will soon be shown in Des Moines.

My quilt isn't quilted to within an inch of its life, as many show quilts are. In fact, when my Mom told me "You're going to win a prize one of these days," when we were at AQS Syracuse last year, I said "No, Ma. My quilts aren't quilted enough." So it was a lot of fun to hear her say, "I told you so!" when I told her about the win yesterday.

The list of winners will be here: http://www.quiltweek.com/past-winners after 9 AM Central time on Wednesday September 14, 2016. The quit will be on display from Sept 14 through the 17th.

So again, if anybody is going to the AQS show in Chattanooga, keep an eye out for the Chicken quilt and take a selfie with it and send it to me at patcherymenagerie AT gmail DOT com.

AND... I've got two small barn quilts on exhibit in a special show at AQS Chattanooga and AQS Des Moines. You can see the Henniker Barn and the Pig Farm Barn quilts there.

Hot Diggity!

PS: Thanks Rebecca for the updated blog post title!

To AQS Syracuse

I'll be at the AQS Syracuse show today sometime after 3:00 PM. If you see me, come on over and introduce yourself. I'll give you postcards of my quilts.

This quilt of mine, Black & White Crayons, will be on exhibit there. Check it out, and take a selfie with it and send it to me at: patcherymenagerie AT gmail DOT com.

My quilt Too Much Chicken, will also be on exhibit. To "get it" you should start at the top and read down. It's in the "Whimsy" category, which is a perfect place for it.

I'll be staying overnight, and will be at the show on Thursday morning as well.  Hope to see you there!

Postcards!

You gotta love Vistaprint. They make it so easy to make postcards. Here are my newest cards featuring my quilt, "Too Much Chicken." I've included the dimensions of the quilt and a little story of the inspiration for it. If you notice, there is a list of AQS shows in which the quilt was/will be shown.  I'll be at the AQS show in Syracuse in July, on Wednesday and Thursday. I'll give a postcard to anybody who asks for one while I am there.

I also updated the postcard for the Black & White Crayons. It now lists all the AQS shows in which it has been exhibited as well as the dimensions of the quilt.

Too Much Chicken Accepted into AQS Chattanooga

My quilt, Too Much Chicken, has been accepted into the AQS show in Chattanooga Tennessee, September 14 - 17 2016. 

I'll also have two small barn quilts on display in the special exhibit as part of the Secret Society of Barn Builders, the group Julie Sefton assembled to test her notes in her book, Build a Barn.

If you get to see the AQS show in Chattanooga, I'd love if if you could take a selfie with one of my quilts and send it to me.

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."

AQS Paducah

My quilt, The Black & White Crayons, entry # 4-1528 at AQS Paducah this week.

My quilt, Too Much Chicken, entry # 4-1214, also at AQS Paducah this week.

I can't remember the categories, Wall Quilts under 60" wide and possibly Modern Quilts, but with the numbers you ought to be able to locate them if you wish.

If you go to Paducah Kentucky this week and see my quilts, take a selfie with them and send it to me. Email it to patcherymenagerie AT gmail DOT com. If you want, send me your snail mail address, and I'll send you a postcard of the Crayons quilt (but only if I get a picture of you with it).

Tell me what you think. Here are some things to look for.

The Black and White Crayons has over 80 different fabrics, 60 different black and white, and about 10 different WOWs and 10 BOBs. Can you see the difference in the binding on the left and right sides of the quilt? Can you see how the different fabrics in each letter work to make the letter? Can you figure out what's common about the letters that straddle the divide?

Too Much Chicken has three foxes and several "jokes". Can you find the lazy A or the backwards S, and the drunken chicken? How many different fabrics did I use in the background? Can you figure out what happens to the Chicken words as you get to the bottom of the quilt?

Have fun looking for, and finding all the little things I have so much fun putting in.

Enjoy!

The Chicken Quilt is Going to Paducah!

WOO HOO!  My quilt, "Too Much Chicken" has been accepted into the American Quilter's Society show in Paducah Kentucky from April 20 - 23 2016.

I'd be lying if I told you I ever expected it to get into any show at all. It was Gerald Roy who told me the quilt was better than I thought it was, and that I should enter it in the AQS Paducah show.

The Black & White Crayons quilt has also been accepted into the show in Paducah.

Woot!

Happiness Is...

This man is Gerald Roy. It was his collection of quilts that was exhibited at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston last year, and is currently on display at the Oklahoma City Museum of Art until February 2016, and then later in San Diego. He's on the Executive Board of Directors of the National Quilt Museum in Paducah Kentucky. He's an artist, quiltmaker and expert quilt appraiser.

It was in this capacity that I met with him last night as he appraised my quilt, Too Much Chicken.  He loved my quilt.  He said it was fun, but not silly. He loved all the little elements (foxes, the use of fabrics and the word jokes.) He said it was well made and beautifully quilted. (Check that smile on his face!) What a rush. It's one thing to have friends and family like your work. It's another thing when an expert loves it.

I've never been really sure about this quilt. It was fun and happy and somewhat ridiculous. Everybody who sees it smiles, and it was very heartwarming when Gerry turned it over and grinned from ear to ear.

The last time I met with him he asked me if I signed my quilts. When I showed him my discreet signatures on the back of my quilts he said, "Not big enough," so last night showed him the back of the quilt first.

He even loved that.

He said the workmanship and quilting were excellent, noted the quilt was extremely humorous and then valued it about three times what I expected. To say I was thrilled is an understatement of epic proportions.

It THAT wasn't enough...

 He signed my book. :-)