Four Windmills, 55 Years

Ever since moving to Southern California 30 years ago, I have marveled at the region's windmills, especially the miles of them between my Los Angeles home, and the "Road to California" quilt show in Ontario, CA, that I visit annually. They look like this:

Sometimes they spin in unison, sometimes out of sync, but they always make me happy, a majestic miracle of alternative energy. 

In February, when I was playing with a raw-edge fabric-covered-with-tulle technique to make Valentines, I thought of those windmills and decided to make some. I pulled all the pieces from my batik scrap bag.

The highest scrap was a failed experiment with stamping circles of gold paint on fabric. (below, left). The planet on the far right is a different piece of batik. 

For the centers, I used decorative buttons, because: Why not?

A friend saw this on my Facebook page, and bought it for a friend of hers who works in alternative energy. I was thrilled, but sad, because now, I thought I didn't have a windmill quilt!

So I made another one. This has fewer windmills, and instead of buttons, I sewed hex nuts to the centers. 

Then it occurred to me that hex nuts are probably the last thing you want holding rotating blades, because they will unwind eventually, right? But I didn't want to take those nuts off, because they're so darn cute! 

And it wasn't until after I'd finished the piece, that I remembered I'd made windmill-themed fiber art more than 50 years ago. This thing has been lying on a bureau in my bedroom for so long that I almost never notice or think about it.  (Note what's happening in the upper right corner when I tried to photograph it.) 

It's felt and embroidery thread, made from a kit, in the 60s, when I was in elementary school. I cut the pre-marked shapes out of the felt, and followed the stitching directions, which included zigzagging leaf veins, and square stitches for the windmill blades. It's clever and adorable, and none of this was my idea -- I just followed  directions, which is how so many of us begin our fiber art adventures!

After I finished it, it followed me around. I found it in a box and laid it out in my bedroom a couple of decades ago.  

So after making the quiltets above, I noticed it again, with new eyes, and decided to take its picture. My grandcat loves when I get laser-focused on taking a decent photo, and as you can see, she wants to help. 

So not only is this piece worn by age, sun, and never having been washed, but now it's also embedded with cat fur.

And now, I thought, I own TWO windmill fiber art pieces. But wait, there's more! Writing this blog post I remembered I had  another windmill, in my quilt "Nonsense Town," which is only about year old.

It's in the top row, center. 

It's sort of a cross between the Dutch technology in my Sixties sampler, and the sleek newfangled California model. Newsflash: This windmill, on this quilt, is now a puzzle on The Quilt Show, because of my recent episode! Find the puzzle here. 

So now, if any one happens to ask me, "What is the recurring lifelong theme of your quilts?" instead of answering, "Um, I'm not sure, probably nuthin'," I  have a concrete answer: "Windmills!"

Was a sampler your first fiber art? Do you still have it? Have you taken its picture?

For more about the relaxing confetti-raw edge applique technique, go to https://gefiltequilt.blogspot.com/2024/02/stress-relief-with-confetti-valentines.html

Pandemic Porch Quilt Show Day 34 - 35: My Two Weirdest Quilts in Two Days

Day #34: Blooming Cactus
Choosing an eye-pleasing color palette did not come naturally to me, and here's the evidence. Let's breathe slowly as we approach this bed-size quilt, so as not to trigger sea-sickness. 

It's slightly less terrible when you get very close,  thanks to the blue oasis. 

Longtime quilters will recognize this pattern immediately, as a Blooming Nine Patch, from the bestselling 1996 quilt book 'Traditions with a Twist' by Blanche Young and Dalene Young Stone, still widely available (used) online - and sooooo worth it, just for this one pattern. 

Sure, I knew that the orange and brown were awful, but I believed I was on a mission to prove ugly fabrics could be beautiful. Specifically, I wanted to redeem this crackly orange and brown batik, which I cut from a designer hippie halter-top-and-bell-bottom set that my extremely stylish mother wore in the 60s or 70s  (probably purchased at Filene's Basement, in downtown Boston). 

In hindsight, this fabric is irredeemable. (Except: As a faux Halloween pumpkin.)

The fabric I most love on this quilt is near the center, and also on the back - an African wax print. It looks really great when not in eyeshot of brown and orange.

But despite the chaloshes (terrible) colors, I learned more from making this quilt - as a new quilter - than any other quilt. Specifically, I learned how much fun it is to make gradual color and value shifts that create movement across the quilt. I still find this activity utterly thrilling (especially because I now use better colors.) 

The print that follows the halter top, and that forms the appliqued flowers, was cut from a different garment, a batik Indonesian shirt. The outermost blue fabric (which is also in the center of the quilt) is an American cowboy sky-themed fabric. The international diversity of these fabrics makes me laugh! 

And no quilt is complete without buttons. (They're in the middle of the flowers.)

Whether you use ugly or beautiful fabric (and today I courageously recommend the latter), planning a Blooming Nine Patch takes you straight out of your left brain, and deposits you happily into the other side. I had such a ball working through the color shifts, that I felt like I could make nothing but Blooming Nine Patches for the rest of my quilting life and be perfectly happy! 

Day 35: Necktie Archeology, 80" x 99"

Poundwise, this is my heaviest quilt, and one of my longest. My porch ceiling isn't high enough - in the photo above, the bottom of the quilt is folded on the floor. It holds 68 appliqued neckties, most intact, plus a whole lot of vintage buttons, all dating from the 1950s to today. They were gathered over many years, from flea markets, thrift shops, friends and relatives.

On the right side of the quilt they’re chronologically arranged, from bottom to top. The oldest necktie, a sleazy narrow grey number which runs horizontally along the bottom, features a bathing-suit clad pinup girl hidden in the lining. I think it's from the late 50s - but one viewer told me that it could be a reproduction (Google it - there are lots of old pinup girl neckties, as well as reproductions, sold online.)

Above that come the 1960s ties, with ultra wide psychedelic paisleys;

Then upward to novelty neckties: Elvis, the Wizard of Oz, a giant trout, beer, photography, golf course, space shuttles, warplanes, Forbes Magazine, laptop computers, Tabasco Slurpees (?), and so much more. My favorite tie is the brown and gold “how to tie a tie” tie that I wove vertically through the middle.

In the lower left of the quilt - as a nod to the tie’s role as a phallic symbol - I placed the neckties related to love, sex, marriage, obstetrics and babies - including in the center, a blue-and gold necktie with the word "Viagra" repeated on it, again and again. (Presumably that tie has extra interfacing.)

Almost all the ties on this quilt are intact, and sewn in place with relatively large stitches. I did move most labels from the back to the front (on the narrow end), for documentation, but other than that, in theory, someone could cut the ties off, steam them, and wear it! See more photos in my blog post, here. This quilt is looking for the right home, ideally with a passionate necktie afficianado, who has at least one blank, strong, high wall, and it's on sale for only $4000 (negotiable, I'll throw in shipping!)

Pandemic Porch Quilt Show, Days 11- 12: A Batik Chandelier and a Millenium Quilt

Day #11: "Chandelier, Shaken"

This quilt is improv paper pieced, using batik fabrics.

Closer: 

Much closer:

A little to the left: 

Finally, from the back - I like the way the light creates a stained glass effect!

It was pure fun, with minimal measuring. The techniques I used (though not this actual pattern) are in my booklet, "Modern Paper Piece Log Cabin Triangles," in my etsy shop, CathyPstudio, here.

UPDATE: This quilt was just awarded Best Use of Color in the Innovative category, in Mancuso's Visuals #2 Pacific International Quilt Festival. All the winners are here.

Day #12: A Millenium Quilt

This large quilt (74" x 93", it almost hit the ceiling) is made of 2,000 squares, cut 2.5".

A little closer:

Center: 

Backstory: In the late 90s, a huge fad emerged among online quilters: Millenium quilts, to be made from 2000 different pieces of fabric. People set up swaps, and packs of squares were also sold online. 

When I first read about this fad, I thought, "What a terrible idea!" But after a couple of days, possessed by the audacity and community of it, I jumped in. 

I'd been quilting for almost a decade, so I had a significant fabric stash. I chopped 2.5" squares out of everything. Then I went to my upholstery sample books; old clothing; and basically, any fabric I could scrounge anywhere. 

Even then, I was still about 500 fabrics short. So I gave up on my dream of not repeating fabrics, and filled the corners in with squares cut from two different fabrics that were printed with millenium-related words in different languages. These are the mostly black fabric and the white-and-black fabric below. 

I was well into the project when I started reading that some quilters were using this project to affirm their Christian faith, which makes a great deal of sense. But since I'm not Christian, and I didn't want to leave my descendants wondering, I put the Hebrew calendar year - 5760 - along the bottom, and stitched into it an essay explaining the quilt and the millennium mishegoss that was taking place at that time! 

You can't lay out 2000 squares this size on any design wall smaller than the side of a barn. So I (and pretty much everyone who made one of these), constructed the quilt in blocks. Each of my blocks are 5 squares x 5 squares, totaling about 10 inches after stitching. Within each block, I placed the lightest square in one corner, moving to the darkest in the diagonally-opposite corner. To honor the traditional log cabin arrangement, I placed a red square in every center. I set the blocks in rows of 8 across, and columns 10 down -  that's 80 blocks, times 25 squares, gives you a 2000-square quilt that measured 72" x 93"!

The back features a whole lot of weird stuff, including this inexplicable M&M millenium fabric....

...which posed the profound question, "Is it Over Yet?" There are also a couple of delightful commemorative tea towels, from a trip we'd recently taken to London:

...and a tea towel from a sweet little amusement park we'd brought our little boy to in England, Paulton's Park. 

Plus this flea market find, curtains showing movie stars of the mid-20th century.

Until my pandemic porch quilt show, I had never photographed  this quilt flat before. The most I've ever seen of it at one time is on a full-size bed. Seeing the entire thing gave me a completely different sense of what it looks like! That's one more reason you should consider hosting your own porch quilt show! 

[The first installment of my porch quilt show, Days 1-5 is here. 

Days 6-10 are here.

The next installment is here. 

If you'd like to keep up with the show in real time, I'm posting it on Instagram, at https://www.instagram.com/cathy.perlmutter/] 

Masked Hexagons, Socially Distanced: An English Paper Pieced Mystery Scrap Quilt

If you are one of the thousands of quilters giving time and fabric to make lifesaving masks, thank you. For me, making masks is not only a good deed, but a powerful way to reduce anxiety in a tragic  time. 

You may also be putting mask scraps aside, to someday make a  quilt. Here’s one idea that you can work on as you continue to make masks: 


And here's what it would have looked like on white:

It's not finished - it's just a top - because as I continue to make masks, I will grow it. The mystery, of course, is how all this will turn out - not just this quilt, but our lives.

UPDATE, 11/19/20 - I've finished this quilt and written up the pattern. The digital pattern is for sale on Etsy, here. All money raised from this $1.99 pattern will go to my Los Angeles Regional Foodbank fundraiser, here. 

Here's one fabrics I used in lots of masks - a purple batik featuring lots of birds: 

...And the hexagon I made from a scrap:

Button eyes are optional. Next, masks I made for border collie parents:

 And its hexagon: 

A different purple batik mask:

The hexagon

A stylish saw-blade fabric mask:

The condensed version, with button eyes, appears sweet but startled:

After making a pile of masked hexagons (most without button eyes) I decided to to socially distance them. I was heavily influenced by lines marked on store floors, and social media photos of kooky/brilliant people wearing hula hoops, pool noodle hats, inner tubes, and even wildly-oversized Burger King crowns, to keep their distance. So I gave some of my hexagon rows protuberances.  

No need for big decisions yet about the ultimate size of the quilt - you can grow it as you make more masks and hexagons. 

Solid colors on the upper portion of each hexagon represent faces; the prints on bottom are cut from my mask scraps. Button eyes are a good choice if you’re making an anxiety-reducing quilt for a youngster. We've all heard of Sunbonnet Sue - how about Pandemic Pat? 

Find my follow-up blog post, with lots more photos of masked hexagons, here. The digital pattern is for sale on Etsy, here. 

Of course, I have hexagons and English Paper Piecing on my mind because my new book was just published, Hexagon Star Quilts: 113 English Paper Pieced Star Patterns to Piece and Applique, available from Amazon (here) and wherever fine quilting books are sold!