The Prodigal Maker Returns Home

It's hard to believe that I'm making this statement so soon, but I've moved my studio...again. You all may not remember, but last summer, after years, decades of working out of my house, I rented a large warehouse space with a friend and set up shop there.

There were some definite advantages to the move. Three people live in my little house and moving my workspace elsewhere freed up space. The warehouse space was large and my friend was super-handy and able to craft the space, even if only in a rudimentary way, to suit our needs. I also liked the idea of separating my work and home life.

I'm not super-handy(yet), but my assistant and I did manage to put up this peg board. 

The reality, however, was a little different than anticipated.

First, the space had no temperature control. This is Texas and that makes for a cold winter( yes, we do have winters, though short) and a brutal summer. Patterning and dyeing fabric in the space didn't seem to be a problem as I'd always worked in unheated/un-air conditioned garages, so I was familiar with that. What I found difficult to deal with was sewing in the space and either simultaneously shivering or profusely sweating. My solution to that was to set up a sewing space at home in my bedroom. I now had a temperature controlled space to sew in, but i'd defeated the purpose of separating the two aspects of my life and I had to transport WIPs back and forth between the two spaces.

And, finally, the deciding factor was the warehouse owner's decision to substantially raise our rent. I was just doing to much accommodating to make the space work to justify paying more rent.

So, back home I went.

Gotta love it when the pattern on your coffee mug matches the WIP you have laid out on the bed.

This time, though, I decided that I would really craft my work space. I wouldn't make the work fit the space, I would make the space facilitate the work.

To that end, I hired a handyman to install additional lighting in the garage where we would be doing our dye work. I started using an upright portable air conditioner so that we'd be more comfortable working in the garage. I organized and planned my sewing space so that it would be function and inspirational.

And I made sure I had a wall big enough to take photographs.

I can tack up and photograph a queen size quilt on the wall behind where my sewing machine usually lives.

Because this is an 1,800 square foot house where three people live, I did have to concede the guest bed living in my sewing space, but, there's a silver lining.

I can layout large scale quilts as they're being constructed and, of course, take a sweet mid-day nap in my light filled space.

If I were to pass on any advice to someone else about creating a dedicated space to craft, it would be really think about the way you work and what your priorities are. Be flexible, but not to the extant that you're working harder to make the space work than the the space is working for you.

Superstring Baby Quilt

If you follow me on instagram then you probably caught the sneak peek of this quilt a while back. Here, however, is the full view, in the Summer 2016 issue of Modern Patchwork. 

The concept behind this design is simple. It started with a question. All my designs do. That question was what would it look like if I sewed large strips together and then overlaid a large, self-drafted template to create a  super-sized string pieced block?

Naturally, the only way to find out was to do just that and then tweak the process so that it was repeatable and, since my focus is designs that you all can re-create, explainable. 

I started with some of my hand dyed solids.

The final version actually includes a greater variety of hand dyes and, of course, this design would look fabulous in commercial solids as well (personally, I'm a big fan of the feel and colors of Art Gallery's Pure Elements Solids).

Once I had the 4 "string" blocks though, it felt a little unfinished. Also, I had lots of extra bits already cut. So, I crafted the border and corner pieces. It's then that it struck me that this top could also be just a block in a bigger quilt. I could see sewn in a more limited palette as well whether or not you chose to treat the design as a single block or a finished top.

The top was quilted in concentric lines from the center out that mimicked the diamond shape created by meeting the four string blocks together.

I was looking through my Pinterest board devoted to inspirations and found a bunch of examples of creative uses for the humble, but graphically powerful string-based block. Have a gander here and let me know what you think.

What's next?

It's a love/hate thing. 

(Channeling my inner Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof):

On the one hand writing here, specifically on my blog, is so important to me and my work and my business. It helps me to think through ideas, forces me to document via photography, and helps to promote the stuff I'm trying to sell.

On the other hand, the work of keeping up with social media can start to feel like a job of its own and, though I like the job, I'd really rather be making stuff.

So, why am I here today? Because of this:

Aren't screen shots great? 

This particular one is from a site I follow, primarily on Instagram, called Nitch. Everyday they pair a beautiful black and white photograph of a well-known person with a quote from that person.

This quote caught my eye and came at the perfect time. I know I should be writing here. It's good for me and not in the way brussel sprouts are good for me (I love brussel sprouts and have a great recipe for them, but that has nothing to do with my point). Writing in this space is important because it's part of my making journey. I can't, however, wait to be inspired to write, I just have to show up and start pounding those keys.

So, here I am, ready to engage in the process.

Now to explain the first image:

The smart-ass in me wants to claim they're petrified logs or the food color dyed interiors of cinnamon rolls, but they're fabric rolls, Kona cotton fabric rolls, specifically. The reason they came into my life, because I've never really been a pre-cut gal before, was this quilt:

I don't exactly know where the idea for this little quilt came from, but I initially designed it as a free tutorial to include with my bi-weekly newsletter which, incidentally, you too could get(the form's at the bottom of this page). Anyway, the pattern is very simple and graphic and I sensed that it was the beginnings of something else.

And it was.

Though this is a still a work in progress, making the mini-version started me thinking about the possibilities for manipulating this design. Despite my total lack of experience working with pre-cuts, I wanted to explore designing within the parameters that fabric that's already cut and measured and selected presents. 

I specifically chose two "ombre" rolls to work with because I wanted to see what happened to the graphic nature of this design as the colors changed.

The other day someone asked why I don't design on a computer and, if I didn't know before, the process of creating this quilt has certainly answered that question. As I sew this top together, I make changes from my initial plan.  I wouldn't "see" those changes if I was just manipulating images on a computer. Frankly, I think it would lengthen, rather than streamline the process of making because when I did move the design from computer generated concept to actual fabric item, I'd then have to adjust the design for the change in media.

Next up for this design? 

Finishing and quilting the top, making a second, smaller, different color way version, writing and testing the instructions, and  publishing the pattern so that you all can make it and change it for yourselves.

Also, because it really is all about the process, this unfinished make has already, dare I say, inspired new ideas.

Here's a sneak(y) peek:

Gingham

I'm often reluctant to work with a curated selection of fabrics. I'm not sure why, but the thought of being limited to a specific collection, no matter how extensive, causes me anxiety. It doesn't matter who the designer is; it could even be me, but my first reaction is an inner clenching.

I was a bit surprised when Vicki from The Fabric Society contacted me to discuss a promotional post for some of their fabrics and I  enthusiastically agreed to participate. 

Though I'm usually a believer in the ideal of sticking with plan A, I also see the value in pushing beyond my comfort zone and that, oftentimes that leads to new discoveries.

It certainly did this time.

I didn't really have a design in mind when I chose a variety of colors from their collection of Fresh Solids. Frankly I was hoping that something would come to me.

I lived with the fabrics for a bit, mostly because I was in the midst of QuiltCon prep when they arrived, until I came up with this simple and graphic design.

After a bit of play with concept as well as pairing colors, I was ready to piece the top together, a super-quick process.

Then this little top was off to the long armer, bound and ready for it's close-up. The whole 40" x 40" quilt took about a week from design to finished product.

When I look at this design my head fills with other possibilities and variations, many of which you will be seeing in the weeks to come. None of it, however, would have been possible if I hadn't ignored my instinct to fear the limitations of working with a set group of fabrics and embraced the opportunity to create in a new way.

Keep your eyes open when you're driving along.

Those were the words of advice Aunt Rena imparted to me after I told her about this:

This is a Vintage 15-91 Singer sewing machine complete with cabinet.

We found it on the side of the road.

The other day, my boyfriend went for a run in our neighborhood and came home to report that there was a sewing machine in a cabinet about 1 mile away perched on the edge of a curb outside someone's house. 

"Do you want to go check it out?" he asked.

What do you think I said?

We drove over and found the cabinet on the curb, obviously discarded by someone. I opened the cabinet to reveal what I instantly recognized as a vintage Singer. The drawers still contained several machine feet, bobbins, as well as the owner's manual.

He asked me if I wanted to take it home.

What do you think I said?

Yesterday I plugged it in and discovered it still works. 

Today I called the local Singer servicing center and asked if they worked on vintage Singers?

What do you think they said?

I'm taking it in on Monday and, if all goes well would like to refurbish the cabinet as well as the machine, though that's not a must.

Mostly, I want to sew something on this machine. We were fated to be together. So many other folks could have found this machine, though they might not have been folks who sewed. They might have brought it home to admire and display it for all its vintagey coolness and that's not a bad thing. I, however, want to do more than just bring it home. I want to give this old and sadly discarded machine a new life and new work. I want to make a modern quilt or an indie garment pattern using this machine. 

And, when I do I'll think about all the other people that might have used this machine in the past. Maybe it helped a newlywed make curtains for her first home or a mom sew a much-desired halloween costume for her son or a special quilt for an elderly friend. Who knows what this machine crafted in the past, but, hopefully, we will be crafting together in the future.

A few years ago my uncle gave me my grandmother's Shabbat candlesticks. They had been gathering dust in a box set off in some long-forgotten corner. The sale of his apartment prompted him to sort through the box and there they were. 

I never knew my grandmother. She died when my dad was 18, but I'm her namesake and have always had a certain curiosity about her.

The first time I lit candles using those candlesticks I thought about how she had been the last person to use them and how amazing it was that we two, who shared not only a genetic connection but the exact same name (both first and last), were connected over time by these candle sticks. 

That's sort of how I feel about this sewing machine. I don't know and will never know who used it before and what they made, but me and my creations will be connected to them in a roundabout way.

If that doesn't put a smile on your face, I don't know what will.

I'll keep you posted about the machine as it is brought back to life.

Reverse Psychology as a Craft Tradition

"I can make that." When I was a kid, that was a common refrain of my mother's whenever we went to a store. The store was never a high end, or, frankly, any end, department store, but usually Kmart. Do they even still exist? As a child, money was beyond scarce because scarce implies we had a clue where to look for it and we didn't. So, Target was too rich for our blood. But, every once in a while a trip to Kmart was a must. We needed new shoes or a winter coat. Like most little girls, my eye often landed on a pretty dress or top and I'd show it to my mom. I knew we couldn't buy it, but at least we could acknowledge its appeal. But, more times than not, my mom's response was to declare that she could make it herself. My mom was the original DIYer, except she wasn't.

For starters, she hated sewing. I think she felt like she should love it, but she always cursed quietly under her breath when a situation required that she bring out the Brother sewing machine, acquired after devotedly collecting and licking Green Stamps.

Then it was her refusal to admit the value of a pattern. This might sound adventurous and creative; she followed the beat of her own drummer, crafting fanciful garments entirely from her imagination. Reality looked a little different. My mom didn't really understand clothing construction and pattern drafting wasn't among her skills. Also, she didn't believe in drape and fabric weight and especially in cutting anything on the bias. Her theory was that the bias was actually a conspiratorial ruse created by the fabric companies and acceded to by the pattern companies to persuade unsuspecting home sewers into purchasing extra and unnecessary fabric.

Thankfully, I was a relatively bright child and it took only a few homemade garments to convince me that hand-me downs, even those from my elder brother, were better because they came from the store.

Yet, when asked who has had the greatest influence on me and my decision to craft and pursue the handmade as a career I would answer my mother. Her many unfinished and unable-to-be- finished items taught me the value of following instructions, deeply learning a technique, and, most importantly, understanding a process before deciding to alter that process. My work would be completely different if I didn't genuinely love to learn and appreciate a tradition before I was ready to change it and make it my own.  

Whenever my mother would like something hand crafted, she would say that that person had really good hands. As a child, I didn't like that comment because I felt it disregarded the cerebral aspect of crafting. My mom, after all, was a scientist with advanced degrees in Biology and I thought she was disparaging the intellectual side of making. Looking back though I think she was admiring that person's ability to access their creative brain and translate it into something tangible, something beautiful to hold or wear or use. She was actually paying that individual the greatest compliment she could think of. 

My parent's home is decorated(littered?) with my drawings, quilts, prints, and pillows, a good place for them to be, because, though my mother didn't share the desire to craft, she taught me all the essentials to doing just that. And, she's always been my biggest fan. 

Too Tired to Tinkle

That title is a reference to Gillian Flynn's novel, Gone Girl. Let me know if you get the reference.

I was listening to On Writing by Stephen King today. I almost always listen to an audio book or podcast while I'm working. Sometimes I do so furtively because I secretly don't think I should when my assistant is around, but I love the way being told a story gets me into the flow of working. 

Anyway Stephen noted that his most productive working time is in the morning and I have to agree. If I had written this post this morning it would be chock full of insight and pithy phrases. if I had written this post this morning I would effortlessly transition from one topic to the next and find a way to connect them all. 

But, I didn't write it this morning or even this afternoon. 

It is 8:39 CST and I'm putting fingers to keyboard after a full day of crafting and dyeing and erranding and teaching. So, I'll just post a pretty picture and say goodnight, Gracie. (Please, please, please tell me you remember George Burns).

Picked up this quilt, the first of my Gingham Quilts, from the longarmer today. Straight line quilting is so perfect for this design.

Creating and Letting Go

A few years ago I was teaching a dye workshop to the members of the Baltimore Modern Quilt Guild when one of the students told me that she suspected that I had coined the phrase/design concept of working with "low volume" fabrics. I responded that I had and that I was happy to see how interested folks were in this idea. If you're curious about the original article, check out Quilting Arts magazine issue #38 dated to April/May 2009. 

When I wrote the piece I never suspected that this technique would become as ubiquitous as it has, spawning numerous other articles, online and in-person workshops focused on the process as well as books. While I'm happy that people enjoy exploring these fabrics and crafting with them, I'm rarely mentioned as the originator of the concept as it applies to modern quilting.

Mostly, I don't mind...at least I don't think I mind...because I've always believed that an idea can be copied, but my creativity is unique to me. I'm relatively confident I'll come up with something new. Also, I know that I riff off of other people's work as well. For instance, I've designed several improvisational quilts, both for my books and for articles and even for an online class, yet I did not invent the concept of improvisation. I discovered it in books and magazines like everyone else. 

I've just started working on a quilt design,

 influenced by the amazing art quilts of Eleanor McCain (I've mentioned her a couple of times in my weekly newsletter), that I'm calling Gingham, a title I didn't even come up with but was penned by a follower on Instagram. 

So, the cross pollination might just be as ubiquitous as the term "low volume". 

Yet, despite being aware of both generating and receiving influence, I look over my shoulder, not because I worry about being copied, but because I worry about copying. Sometimes I take sabbaticals from looking through books, magazines, and the internet, but other times I intentionally immerse myself in other people's images and ideas. 

And then, sometimes this happens:

If you're scratching your head and wondering what the hell "THIS" is, let me explain.

Last night I was drawing in my sketchbook, fleshing out old ideas and exploring new ones, when I had a thought, rather I posed a question, " What would a quilt look like if the image was a black and white outline of a block rather the block itself?" Believe it or not, that drawing is me jotting this idea down with the intention of returning to this concept soon or at least soon-ish. 

Then I woke up this morning, checked my instagram feed and saw this.

Don't get me wrong, I love this design. It's clean and modern and very clever, but, it also reminds me of what I was sketching last night. And, while I understand that it's plausible, even probable, that many folks might come to a similar concept independent of each other, I still felt the wind go out of my sails just a bit. 

Will I still pursue this idea? Probably. I think there are many ways to interpret the concept and I recognize that my first drawing and my final design may be only distantly related to each other. But, I will look over my shoulder more vigilantly with this idea than I otherwise would. Is that legitimate or even necessary? I don't know, but I know I will be extra-aware because I want to protect my own creativity. I want to ensure, at least for myself, that my designs are the product of my explorations within what I have deemed acceptable parameters of influence. Maybe those parameters are too loose or stringent for someone else, but they're mine and I know where the boundaries exist.

Which circles back to why I'm not bothered by my designs, concepts, or techniques having lives of their own that don't necessarily include me anymore. My creativity spawned something, others brought their creativity to it and made it their own. The something, whether it was conceived back in 2009 or yesterday, is not what is precious. What's precious is the creativity behind that something. 

Setting my Intention

 I can't possibly begin this post without noting my more than 30 day absence from this space. I'm still sewing and dyeing and teaching and, hopefully, selling, but I'm not writing as much as I should. Why? There's inevitably a multitude of reasons, but, if I look at it honestly I see that it comes down to two things: good quality pictures and prioritizing writing.

I can't always take the kind of beautifully styled pictures I want and, unlike an operation that has an in-house photographer, I can't assign that task to someone else. But, I can prioritize writing as a daily practice ( I do a lot of yoga and that phrase, daily practice, is so typical yoga-speak). Yet, despite its potential new age bent , I'm drawn to that word. It implies that perfection is not only unattainable, but undesirable. The point, the goal, is to keep trying, to stay curious about the possibilities, and keep practicing, all the time knowing that you'll never be done and don't really want to be. Isn't that the way we should approach making if not life in general? 

Another oft-repeated yoga term is "setting an intention". It refers to a goal, sometimes small like remaining present in the moment, sometimes more lofty as in cultivating joy, but always simple and clear. I enjoy beginning my yoga practice with an intention and I'd like to do that for my writing practice as well. 

So, here it is: 7 days of blog posts. I should say 7 consecutive days of blog posts.

My dad, a retired doctor, often recommended as he prescribed a medicine that his patients take an initial double dose to kick-start the healing process. In that spirit I'm starting my practice with a similar immersion. Starting today.

I can't guarantee pictures. I can't guarantee great prose, but what I will guarantee is I will appear in this space everyday between today, March 27, through Saturday, April 3.

What will I write about? What pictures will I post. I don't know...exactly. But, I do have a new quilt slated to be finished by Wednesday and I'm always making fabric and I'm in the midst of adding paper patterns to my store and considering what workshops to offer in my studio(feel free to chime in on this). I also have questions and concerns about how much time servicing social media takes up daily (especially ironic considering my just-stated intention) and maybe a few interesting and craft-related stories. Also, I've still to write about my experience vending at QuiltCon last month. In other words, if I take the time, if I prioritize writing the way I do making, I have plenty to say.

Found in my Fridge

If I could name one bit of  business feedback I've been getting from my customers and nosy friends for a while now it's that I should create and sell a line of hand dyed solids. Honestly, I don't know why I didn't jump right on this idea, but, in the better late than never category, this week (yikes, is it that soon?!) I will be premiering my line of hand dyed solids by offering two different fat quarter bundles as well as some single solid fat quarter hand dyed cottons

I've also worked up a design for the Summer issue of Modern Patchwork, again in my hand dyed solids. I've got loads of plans for these babies including expanding the color selections almost as soon as they premier, but first I'd like to create a few quilt patterns to support this fabric collection. 

My initial thought was to turn to my Pinterest Inspirations board and quickly pinned several items that I felt could be re-interpreted for this purpose.

But, then another thought came to mind: maybe I've crafted quilts in the past that could be re-worked and sewn in these new fabrics.

Basically, I checked the refrigerator before I went shopping.

Here's what I found(other than I've got to stop buying more butter; there's already 4 boxes):

This quilt is a blast from the super past and originally designed and created in hand dyed stripes, but could definitely be adapted to working with solids.

Frankly, I'm a little embarrassed I didn't think of this quilt pattern right away. 

I originally designed it a couple years ago and sell the pattern both in paper and PDF form, so re-making it in my new solids would be a breeze, especially because the palette is pretty limited and the blocks are larger and piece together quickly.

I've always loved this design and even re-worked it with rounded corners for Modern Patchwork Magazine a few issues back, but, again, this would be simple to do in hand dyed solids and it would give me an opportunity to explore this concept in new ways. I'd like to expand the size even further adding enough" rounds" to make the single block big enough to fit a bed or make a quilt top that features 4 of these super-sized blocks.

How simple is this?

This quilt was inspired by the knitted Super Easy Baby Blanket created by the uber talented gals at the Purl Bee blog several years back. I made this first version to promote the commercial solids that were released alongside one of my Moda fabric collections. 

I think it would be even more amazing in hand dyed solids and if the widths of the various bands were varied a bit more. One thing I would definitely repeat: the intense machine quilting on the surface.

Another pattern that I sell, both in paper and PDF, that would be perfect in either exclusively solids or, as pictured, primarily solids with a few prints mixed in.

Originally created for my second book, Fresh Quilting: Fearless Color, Design, and Inspiration, this version features Kaffe Fasset's shot cottons. I've taught this quilt design as a class many times, so could probably re-do it in hand dyes in my sleep. Though, you're not supposed to operate machinery while sleeping. :)

If I did more than a cursory search, I could come up with more and just might. For now these seem a good place to start in terms of crafting supporting patterns for my solids or...maybe even starting a fabric/quilt pattern-of-the month/quarter club. I would love, love to hear your thoughts on that.

A Potted Philosophy

That's a pretty flower, isn't it?

I bought this bulb several weeks ago with the idea that I'd put it into a small pot and force it. Loads of folks do that every year. The bulbs were on display as I entered the grocery store, so I thought, "Why not? I've always had a green thumb. I've never tried this. It seems simple..."

There was only one hitch to my plan: I never took the bulb out of the plastic bag it came in, but not because I misplaced it or forgot. At least once a day for weeks I'd walk by the bag with the bulb and think, " This is so wasteful. Why don't I just plant the damn thing?" But, I didn't. It just sat there waiting for me to attend to it.

Or not. Because the other day, I walked by the bag, ready to feel that now familiar pang of guilt that I hadn't taken advantage of the beauty promised to me if I just planted the bulb, that I was wasting time, and money and resources, when I noticed that the flower stalk was sprouting out of the bulb while it was still in the bag.

That spurred me to action. I felt like the flower was speaking to me, metaphorically, folks. I don't usually hear plants talk. And this is what it was saying:

Remember this 1958 movie? Probably no one who reads this blog actually saw it in the theater, but, maybe, like me, you watched it as the late, late movie when you should have been sleeping, but your parents let you have a TV in your room so you watched too much TV and stayed up way too late.

Yes?

Either way, that's what I heard this plant say and the next day it was potted and watered and sitting in a sunny spot.

Having been spoken to by a plant, I started to think about what this act of floral survival had to say to me about perseverance and struggling to achieve despite obstacles. I found myself wondering if the flower was all the more beautiful because it had to fight its way into existence and if that too had a broader message. I know this all seems a bit silly but, like the idea that beauty is everywhere as long as we really look for it, the same might be true about life lessons.  

Again, it might seem a bit ridiculous, but, as I prep for QuiltCon West 2016 in Pasadena next week and feel the urgency that comes with a looming deadline, I think about striving and working, oftentimes without much feedback, and pushing forward. Then I look at my flower and think, "I to want to make it too!"

Or, maybe I just need a new red dress? :)

Look, Ma: I really love writing my newsletter!

I'm not alone here, but keeping up with my blog sometimes feels like a chore. 

And that's a mystery to me because I don't feel that way about keeping up with my weekly newsletter. In fact, I love writing my newsletter and it must show to some degree because folks write to me to tell me how much they enjoy it. 

When I started the newsletter, Fresh from the Dye Pot, I decided that it was not just going to be about email marketing my stuff. I wanted it to be a forum to share ideas and inspiration with those people who had allowed me to make a weekly appearance in their inboxes.

So, while I do chat about new items in my store or my upcoming retail shows, I also have a quote of the week and discuss that quote. Additionally, I include links to websites, books, articles, and images that I find inspirational. And, by inspirational, I mean that, whatever it is, I want to try it. I've linked to books I've read, recipes I've made, and podcasts I've listened to. Writing this newsletter has forced me to be on the lookout for interesting stuff. I'll publish an issue and go right back to my search. Actually, I often don't include all my "points of interest", opting to save a few for a later date .

Working on my newsletter is just plain fun. I even craft a new banner image, always including my logo, for every issue.

Check out this week's:

The theme, yes, my newsletter has a weekly them, was process and I happened to take a series of in progress shots of a quilt top I was designing, so I created my banner from those images.

I'd love to say that I have every newsletter from today until the sun goes super nova planned, but oftentimes the theme is driven by what's new in my studio or what I'm reading or the inspirational bits I gather. In other words, it's completely true to the moment. How perfect is that?

I will say though, I give myself several days, crafting, gathering, editing to create the newsletter. That keeps me from feeling pressured and generally makes the process more of a discovery than anything else.

So, what's my point? You mean other than, hey you, on the other side of this screen, please subscribe and read my newsletter( here's the link)? Well, i guess the point is: a) you never know what you're going to enjoy until you try it and b) I'm so happy to have yet another creative outlet in my life and I wanted to share that with you.

Now, please subscribe to my newsletter. :)

Also, look for things here at the blog to reflect the set-up and style of the newsletter. I've found a writing format that I enjoy and I'd like to share it here as well.

The Perfect Spot

Despite my interest in reading The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to our Brains by Nicholas Carr, I do run an online business. So, taking pictures and posting them online is a big part of my job.

In my old house I had what can only be called a perfect set-up: beautifully colored blank wall in a room with tons of natural light. Taking intense, saturated pictures was easy.

Though I love my new place, both workplace and home, I've struggled to find a great place to take photos. Finishing and therefore needing to photograph a quilt is not an everyday activity, so my assistant and I will go out on location shots for that purpose, but, I make fabric EVERYDAY and it's not a good use of my time to schedule a location shoot every time I have new fabrics to document and add to my store.

I honestly didn't feel like I had a solution for this problem until we converted my youngest daughter's room (she went off to college) to our new guest room/office. We bought a new bed and that has made all the difference.

It all happened by accident. I put neutral colored sheets on the bed because that's what I had and I positioned the bed alongside the window because that's where it seemed to work best.

Then one day, I glanced over to the bed and thought, " I bet I could take my fabric product shots there."

So I did.

And they turned out great.

In this shot I chose to include the edge of the windowsill by the bed.

Now I take all my photos here, group shots, individual images, as well as details of the fabric. 

I've gotten so attached to the spot that I won't let the dog on the bed for fear he'll mess it up. 

When I think about it I realize that it took a few years to find that first "perfect spot" in my previous home. I didn't even recognize it as THE place until I painted the wall. So, it's not surprising that coming upon a new place to shoot product shots might take a few tries and a bit of time...and some luck.

The "I Hate Waste" Principle

I hate waste, really hate it.  

Of course I hate it in the global, community-wide sense of wasting energy or resources, but where it really gets me is at home. 

As an example, the other day I bought some buttermilk for a specific recipe. I'm usually loathe to do that because I find that buying an ingredient, particularly one that only comes in a larger amount than is needed for a single use and is purchased for a given recipe, will lead to waste. What am I going to do with the rest of the buttermilk? But, I hate waste, so last night I searched the internet for a buttermilk-based salad dressing to accompany our salad. I'm much more of a simple vinaigrette dressing girl, but, like I said, waste and me, we're not friends.

My disdain for waste is not all bad though; it fuels positive change in my life. I have a monthly contract at my yoga studio where, whether I go once a month or 5 times a week, I'm charged the same amount. I can't stand to waste money even more than buttermilk, so I go at least 4 times a week. I know this about myself. committing , especially financially, to something will spur me to do that something.

That's why I signed up and pay monthly for Seamwork Magazine. Published by the super-creative folks at Colette Patterns, this monthly, online magazine features interesting articles and simple, quick-to-sew, but stylish clothing and accessories patterns. Anyone can read the magazine; it's on the internet. But, if you want to access the patterns, then you pay a monthly fee of $6 (Hello! Super-cheap!) and receive two credits per issue. So, every month, you can download any two patterns from their pattern catalogue. Also, if you don't use your credits in a given month, they roll over to the next month. It's a great deal! By the way, something being a great deal doesn't negate the "I hate waste" principle; I hate it whether it's a little or a lot and I know that sentiment will help me keep my resolutions to sew for my self using my hand dyed and patterned fabrics.

Confession: this is not the first Seamwork pattern I've made in my hand dyed cotton lawn, but the other one, the Akita top, was made in 2015 so doesn't really count. 

My daughter and I have differing picture-taking ideals. She wants me to take pose properly; I want to act silly. This is our compromise.

For starters, I love Colette Patterns. They're easy to follow, well written and illustrated, and feature clothes that I want to make and wear. That last point is essential to honoring my "I hate waste" principle.

The flowy nature of the York top sold me on this pattern which pairs beautifully with this cotton lawn. 

I patterned about 2 yards of base fabric in my Wasabi Peas print and dyed it a juicy coral color. Honestly, this color is a bit outside my personal palette, but, I created the fabric before I decided to sew with it and I didn't want it to go to waste. I love the top, so the "I hate waste" principle yielded two positive outcomes: crafting for myself and pushing me outside my usual color preferences. 

My favorite part about this top is its attention to detail. Both the above and previous picture show off those features, a terrific cuff detail and a sweet peek-a-boo keyhole at the back.

I currently have 5 patterns downloaded to my Seamwork library and not all will work with my handmade fabric, so some fabric purchasing will happen, but, with the help of the "I hate waste" principle my goal to sew for myself in 2016 will be met. 

What about you? What helps you to keep a resolution or start (or end) a habit?

2016 Word of the Year: I Will

Yes, I got it; that's two words. Read on and you'll see why I picked those words.

 I always craft a banner image which combines a relevant image and my logo to top my weekly newsletter. This picture of Yoda and his famous (infamous?) quote appeared in this week's edition. 

When I showed this image to my youngest daughter she first noted that I hadn't seen any of the Star Wars movies and then said that, though she likes the character of Yoda, she didn't care for this quote. She finds it too unforgiving and unappreciative of the value of trying new things.

I acknowledged my lack of familiarity with the Star Wars films, though I know who Yoda is, and pointed out that my reading of this quote is a bit different. I see it as a call to approach "trying" in a different way. Oftentimes when we decide to take on a new task we defeat ourselves before we ever start. We say things like, "I'll try and see how it goes," or "I'll give it a shot." Why not approach a new venture with an "I will" attitude, as in I will do this. You may succeed or you may fail, but I think you've entered into that new something with an expectation of success as opposed to a hope for success and that might make all the difference.

That's how I approach New Year's Resolutions. I resolve. I pledge. I expect. 

I can't say I've kept every single one of the resolutions I've ever made, but I've kept most, at least for the time period (usually one year) I pledged to.

So, having painted myself into a corner :), I'm sharing with you all my "I will's", better known as New Year's Resolutions:

1. I will drink a glass of water every morning before I do anything else. I know this seems like a silly thing to pledge, but I honestly don't think I drink enough water, so I consider it a healthy lifestyle resolution.

2.  I will exercise every day. I'll be honest. I made this pledge several years ago and have pretty much kept it ever since, but I think it's important to renew the promise. I do have a policy for sickness or emergency, so I'm not a complete nut.

3. I will read at least two books a month. It's important to be specific with your goals and I want to read more, so I picked an amount I felt I could accomplish.

4. I will make or buy thrifted all my clothes. Again I've made this pledge before and kept it, but this year I'm adding a new twist by challenging myself to make as many of my clothes as possible out of my own hand dyed and patterned fabric. I am allowed to buy new workout clothes and shoes. Check out my upcoming post on Monday, January 11 for the first installment on this promise.

5. I will make great customer service the keystone habit of my business. You guys keep me in business. I want to make sure I'm making you feel appreciated.

6. I will keep learning. I have several design programs that I would like to be more familiar with and have even purchased online classes to gain that familiarity. This is the year I will master them.

I auditioned other resolutions, but I think trimming the list makes for a greater chance of success. Also, I think creating accountability helps, thus this post and I'll update you all on my progress. I've got a couple of other tips as well and will share those over the next month.

Ok, I've told you mine. What about you? What "I will's" do you have planned for 2016?

The Matzah Priniciple

Every week since November I've been sending out a weekly newsletter. I'd thought about starting a newsletter for a while, but it was Abby Glassenberg's book, How to Create: a Powerful Email Newsletter: A Comprehensive Guide for Creatives, that inspired me to start.

I strangely love it, partly because I decided I didn't want my newsletter to just be a giant advertisement for my store, but a way to tell folks about images, sites, and work that was interesting me. I'm barely 6 weeks in to the world of email newsletter authorship and I spend way too much time searching the net, bookstores, newspapers, and magazines looking for what I refer to as my weekly inspiration.

It was in assembling my inspiration links for last week's newsletter that I came to think about The Matzah Principle. Cute graphic, huh? I was searching for a font that looked more like Hebrew and found several, but couldn't figure out how to use them with Adobe Indesign CC. Know how? Please email me through my contact page.

Anyway, I first heard that quote a few months ago. It's from episode #361 of the podcast, Planet Money. The focus of the segment was that making matzah, the unleavened bread Jews eat during the holiday of Passover, is a very difficult task. To emphasize the point, the podcast detailed the many arduous steps and checks Manischewitz, America's largest manufacturer of Kosher foods and specifically Kosher for Passover foods, goes through to make the matzah and other items they sell. As a Jew, it was very entertaining, mostly because, other than the Southern Baptist guy who actually runs the plant, everyone sounds like my Zayde (that's yiddish for grandfather). 

As a creative and someone who makes something from scratch, by hand, it made me think about my product, hand dyed and patterned fabric. Though I have written a book about my process, Color Your Cloth: A Quilter's Guide to Dyeing and Patterning Fabric and recorded a Craftsy class explaining it, I don't think I've ever talked about here. 

All my of the base fabric that will eventually become my hand dyed prints or solids comes to me as bolts of undyed white Pima cotton. I usually dye that fabric a base color of some sort and by dye I mean vat dye. Once dry, I pattern it by hand with a tool or a brush or a stamp and vat dye the fabric a second time. I then boil out that fabric. Yes, boil it out, on the stove in a big pot. I use wax as a resist to create my patterns and the only effective way to get all the wax out and return the fabric to it's soft, pre-patterned hand is to boil it. Once boiled, I wash, iron, and press the fabric before packaging it for mailing.

Sounds like a long process? It is, but it creates a fabric that is intensely colored and very unique and I love making it. However, it definitely fits the Matzah Principle definition of being difficult, though not annoying. Before I started selling the fabric that I was then using in my finished items, I did a bit of Etsy research and found that, though there were other sellers of hand dyed fabrics, no one was dyeing and patterning with wax resist to create simple, graphic patterns. Which means that, though I can't speak to whether my fabrics are better than anyone else's, I do know that not a lot of people are making what I make. It's just too much work. That statement is both comforting and cautionary, but also the focus of a different blog post.

When I first heard the Matzah Principle I found it amazingly inspirational and oh so comforting. I love crafting fabric, really love it, and I love running my business, even, surprisingly things I didn't think I would take to, like putting out a weekly newsletter, but it's difficult and, sometimes, discouraging. We're a world of mass produced Target shoppers and I'm asking folks to pay a premium for something hand made and that hand made something isn't even a finished something, you still have to do stuff to it to make it a finished something. I think it's worth it, prettier than any mass produced fabric, including my own commercial fabrics. I'll keep making it and, because I'm obviously a big believer in the Matzah Principle, I have some innovations in store for 2016. 

I hope, for those of you also making or doing something difficult and trying to find your niche that you find encouragement in the Matzah Principle.

Also, because I do actually run a business, I hope that, if you've enjoyed this post, you'll use the form at the bottom of the page to subscribe to my weekly newsletter and see what inspirations and innovations I have planned.

At Year's End

Why do a "Year in Review" post?

Damn good question.

I think part of the reason is to remind myself of all accomplished this past year: My first large scale retail experience at QuiltCon, designing 4 new quilt and pillow patterns, a string of Modern Patchwork Magazine covers(three-in-a-row, though one of those was in 2014), fun opportunities to teach across the country, appearances on my two favorite podcasts, Crafty Planner and While She Naps, my new passion for combining indigo and wax resist, re-focusing on my online store, creating an email newsletter, moving my website, and designing and selling my first hand dyed and patterned wearables.

Whew! I guess that's enough for one year. But, that's not why I think this review is useful. I tried and did a lot, some of which worked, meaning it excited me and my customers, and some of it didn't. If I don't look back and ask questions about what's worth pursuing in the coming year and why, then in some way, all the trying was pointless. Everything has to move you forward, helping you to recognize the path that's right for you and rejecting the one you're not meant to walk.

So, without too much more chitter-chatter, here's a visual recap on 2015 for a stitch in dye:

Rounded Fish Baby Log Cabin

My booth at QuiltCon this past February

Plus One Floor Pillow

Zig Zag Quilt

Black and White Improv pillow stack

How-to on crafting your own improv black and white pillow

Improv, indigo and shibori combos

I love indigo!

Lots of new fabric designs, all hand dyed and patterned.

Skinny stripes fabrics

Hand dyed infinity scarves.

A Room of My Own

After 20+ years of working out of my house, sewing, dyeing, and writing in the midst of my children and laundry, I recently moved my studio to another location. It was scary on several fronts. First, of course was just general unfamiliarity, then expense, and finally a concern that I might not be as inspired to work in a new and different place.

All these concerns have proven to be unfounded. I love my new studio and it has been so helpful in terms of productivity and the ability to plan for my business on a larger scale. That and I now feel like when I come home I'm "done". Work, as much as I love it, is finished for the day and I can focus on other things.

Yet, despite all the positives and what I just wrote about the joy of separating my work and home life, I've started to crave a place to sew in my home. That's partly due to the fact that my studio is located in an industrial part of Austin and it feels a little weird to be there in the evenings. Partly it's because, if I sewed at home, I could always take a few moments to have a glass of wine or eat a snack and that makes the whole experience feel more casual. And, if I sewed at home I would make items that weren't exclusively about my work.

So, I created a sewing space in our home office. It's very modest: a table big enough to accommodate my machine, a cutting board, and a desktop ironing board. Yet, despite it being a humble space, I'm excited about the possibilities it represents: late night, or even better, early morning garment sewing and a  comforting place to piece a quilt.

I'm also looking forward to adding a space for inspirational images as well as a hanging line or design wall on the wall behind the desk.

To that end, I've gathered a few images, via Pinterest of course, to help me craft that space. If you're curious to learn more about these images, scroll over the image and you can click through to their website.

What a simple and effective way to display inspirational images. 

Great use of space for storage and easy reach of materials.

Vintage mirrors pair so well with vintage desk and the space is still very useful.

Love this industrial hanging system for keeping supplies and sketches close by.

I have an entire Pinterest board dedicated to crafting a studio. It's an ongoing and probably ever-evolving task. If you'd like to see those images as well, click here.

I'm off to actually sew in my new space. :)

Friendship Bracelets For Everyone!

I don't remember what inspired me, but one day, not too long ago, I made friendship bracelets for myself and my youngest daughter. Maybe I just wanted a super quick finished item so I could experience that glow that comes with something new and handcrafted or maybe I was thinking about projects using my a stitch in dye scrap bundles, but, either way, I made friendship bracelets. And I wear mine...like every day.

So, I decided to share my process with you all in hopes that you too will craft a few bracelets for yourself or a loved one this holiday season.

Here's what you'll need:

By the way, materials listed are for one bracelet. You probably have tons of friends, so adjust accordingly.

• Two strips of cotton fabric measuring 7 1/2" x 1 1/2"
• 1 standard hair tie, cut in half
• Scissors
• Iron
• Sewing machine
• Coordinating machine sewing thread
• Small to medium sized button
• Coordinating hand sewing thread
• hand sewing needle

Remember to press your bracelet flat.

That's it! These bracelets take no more than 5 minutes to make. They're great stocking stuffers and last minute gifts and they can be made with precious, hand dyed (hint, hint) fabric because you're just using a wee bit.

If you make one, please email me at malka@stitchindye.com and let me know how it turned out and how it was received.

New for 2016:

I will be hosting a free course via my weekly newsletter. That is I will teach a brand new, modern quilt pattern, covering materials, step-by-step instructions, as well as a list of resources for the quilt pattern all in once-a-week digests via my newsletter. 

If you're already a subscriber, you don't need to do a thing. Come the beginning of February you'll start receiving the course. If you're not currently a subscriber and would like to get this course as well as all my special "subscriber only" goodies, then sign up via the form at the bottom of the page.

Instagram Inspiration

For a while now I've pondered the idea of how I can "craft" my instagram feed, that is the entirety of the images I post there. I came to this question because I wanted to create something beautiful and, frankly, something that would help me promote my work in an attractive and interesting way. 

Like most folks on instagram I began with just posting whatever was new. Images of fabrics, quilt designs, and finished creations comprised the bulk of my feed. Lately though I've wanted to do something more, something different. 

To that end, I did a bit of research, looking at a range of feeds and asking myself why they do or do not appeal to me and have found one essential ingredient that all the feeds I'm drawn to have in common: cohesiveness.

Each of the feeds I'm about to mention have pictures that all "hang" together. 

For instance, take a gander at @local_milk. It's easy to pinpoint the palette of this feed, a soft gray with bits of color interspersed. The images primarily focus on simple, domestic scenes and many of the pictures are taken from above or at a close distance. 

Compare that with this feed, @emfratson. I love both feeds and they're equally effective and attractive, but for different reasons. There's a broader range of colors here, though all the images still have a similar color feel. Additionally, there's a greater variety of subject matter among the images in this feed.

I'd invite you to check out those two as well as these, @nikoleherriott, @runnerkimhall, and @sundaysuppers.

Though I'm still working on mine, thinking about my feed and looking back on it has given me an opportunity to re-discover some images.

Some of which are very obviously related to my work:

Others say more about what makes me smile.

And some that can only be labeled, "For the Love of Charlie".

It wasn't until I did the review that I discovered these three themes and, I think, as I work on unifying my feed, I hope to maintain a focus on these three types of images.

If you all have recommendations for instagram feeds that inspire you and you think might inspire me or others, please, leave a comment here and share the beauty.