Quarantined in Eden

A friend called to remind me that I had not yet written about my journal quilt from my time at home during Covid.  She’s right – so here it is.

I’ve kept a daily journal for years.  And I’ve always loved to start an entry with “home all day”.  But with dashing here and there running errands, going to meetings, and just out and about, those at-home days were sometimes hard to find.

In the Spring of 2020, things changed.   Every day was “home all day”.  

Soon I decided a visual record of these days should be part of a Covid journal quilt.  It was easy to review my journal entries and tabulate things.  The legend is included on the quilt…a yellow (his favorite color) backslash for Jim, blue forward slash for me…to clarify our days at home.  I included January and February of 2020 for comparison of our normal days before the pandemic.

My beginning plan was to document the days we were spending at home.  An old linen calendar provided the perfect stitching background.  ( I just happened to have a calendar from 1986 – a year in which the days of the week and dates were the same as 2020 – in my stash.  And later, a 1971 tea towel provided the right day/date combination for 2021.)  

As time went on, I continued to think of other things to include in this journal quilt.  Our time spent working in the yard, playing chess, binge watching tv…all were candidates that made it into the quilt.

I made the blocks not knowing how I would put them together.  I ended up attaching them to a bit of a vintage quilt remnant 10 ½” wide and rolling it up on a stick.  It measures 64” long when stretched out.

The title came from our daughter’s remark when I told her we didn’t mind being at home.  I was feeling guilty that we were actually enjoying the solitude while so many people were frantic that their schedules were disrupted.  She replied “not everyone can be quarantined in Eden.”

I included our days at home through April 2021…past our vaccinations and including many days of “out and about” again.  Since then, the Delta variant has added more days at home.  Maybe I need to find more calendar tea towels…

This was a block made in the process of creating Dots and Vines (story is here). It seemed appropriate to have an image of the virus that started all this.
As I unrolled the quilt to make photos, I found this vintage fabric remnant tucked inside. I planned to add some of these motifs to the quilt. As usual, it’s never really finished. (This remnant is from a little girl’s dress I found in a thrift store.)

Painting on Fabric

As promised in the last post, I have outlined the processes I use to paint and write on fabric. 

In the many examples you’ve seen with blue overalls painted on a black and white photo, I’ve used various products and processes.  Depending on the size of the project, the fabrics being used, the paints and markers at hand (perhaps in a specific color I need), and the mood I’m in, the process changes.  Also, as time goes on, I learn of new products and incorporate them into my repertoire.

For the photos on art quilts:  once the image is printed on the fabric, I leave the fabric adhered to the freezer paper to act as a stabilizer.  In the photo above, I’m using Neocolor II  water soluble crayons and a paintbrush.  I make a puddle of the crayon on a corner of parchment paper, then apply the paint with a small brush.  I use a very small amount of water if I want the color to “stay within the lines”.  

In the case of the oceans on the map in the photo above, I used the same watercolors, but used more water so the color flowed.  Note:  this is on a fairly rough linen fabric with a loose weave – it behaves oh so differently from quilting cottons. As always, testing first is very important.

In Walker’s Pasture, I don’t even recall what paint product I used, but I’m including it to show why I sometimes paint.  My original intent here was to appliqué the windmill’s framework – but the scale was so small that I looked for another way.  So I used the freezer paper template I had created to mark its outline, then inked it in with something…

An example of painting on an otherwise traditional quilt is in the Christmas Garden quilt above.  I wanted my initials and date on the front, and the phrase Mistletoe and Holly, to be relatively small.  A result of painting gave a transparency to the letters, letting the details of the background fabric show through.  You don’t get that with appliqué.

The selection of markers for the Christmas quilt was quite complex.  I went to a local art supply store and bought one of every type of “fabric-safe” marker available in red.  I came home and tested each, recording the results in my sketchbook; before and after washing.  I ended up using a Prismacolor marker.  You can zoom in on the photos above to see my notes about each.

Since that experience, I’ve learned about Fabrico markers by Tsukineko and now have them in multiple colors.  Their fine tip is great for outlining the shape…the thicker one fills in nicely.  

To transfer words to fabric, I sometimes just write freehand.  I did that on A Tree Grows in Gondor – using a mixture of Sharpies and Pigma Micron Pens.  I wanted different weights and thicknesses, hoping to convey the idea that different hands wrote the quotes.

Lettering in a large format is not my forte…so when I want larger words or numerals, I print them first on paper, then trace them to the fabric using my lightbox.  I outline the figures with a fine paintbrush or marker, then fill them with a larger brush or tip.  Above is a photo of the Christmas quilt on the lightbox.  

When filling in such a design, I use sandpaper, freezer paper, or a silicon baking sheet as stabilizer. Above, you see that I used the margins of the photo on fabric to test the colors I was contemplating.

Though it isn’t necessary with all markers and paints, I usually set the color using a dry iron and pressing cloths after the paint has dried.  For one thing, I can’t remember which products instruct me to do that and which ones don’t.  Safe is better than sorry.

Note:  I have not yet written about the Christmas quilt or the journal quilt (the one with the Gulf and Atlantic painted).  

Some of these markers are available locally, others from online vendors.  I don’t know where I bought some of them; it’s been so long since I’ve been shopping, things have changed…Google is your friend to locate sources for these.

Printing on Fabric

One of my favorite types of story quilts is to print a vintage photo on fabric and enhance it with stitch and color. I’m frequently asked to describe the printing process I use.  Here it is – I use an inkjet printer, by the way.

Commercially prepared fabric is available for purchase and I’ve used several of them.  In the photo above, you can see that I wrote the names of some projects where I used each type.  That reminds me of how that product worked and if I want to use it again.  Some proved to be difficult to stitch though by hand, so I reserve those for machine stitching only.

If I plan to transfer a color photo and do all stitching by machine, I love to use the prepared silk fabric.  It produces clear images with brilliant colors, and quilts up beautifully.

When I am transferring a vintage photo like the one in Four Brothers, above, I like the vintage look of an old piece of cotton or linen, so I prepare my own fabric.

A good source of linen is a vintage tablecloth (stained and ragged is okay) or napkins.  This photo shows what a bargain such napkins can be.  For $5, I bought six linen napkins, each larger than an 8 ½” x 11” sheet of paper.  This is less expensive than the packages of prepared fabric.  

First, I press the fabric (here I used a piece of a linen bedsheet – gray, so you can see the paper against it), then cut a piece about 9’ x 12” ( a bit larger is okay).

There are many brands of freezer paper sheets available, I have used many and have no preference – this is just what I have on hand today.  I know I can cut my own sheets of freezer paper to 8 ½” x 11” from a roll; I find the precut sheets to be easier to handle.

I iron the freezer paper (shiny side down) to the fabric.

Using a ruler and rotary cutter, I trim the fabric exactly along the edge of the paper.  A sharp blade helps prevent ragged edges – I don’t want loose threads to get caught in my printer.

I load the fabric on the freezer paper “carrier” sheet into my printer, taking care to be sure that the fabric side will be receiving the ink.  I often print black and white images (even if the original photo is color) to give a vintage feel – then highlight some feature by painting it.

Here is a “man in overalls” fresh from the printer tray.

I sometimes put more than one photo on a page, depending on the desired finished size of my photo. 

I paint the selected portion of the photo while the fabric is still adhered to the freezer paper.  This adds stability and seems to help prevent bleeding. I use some of the surround space to test my paint or markers, as you see above.

I use the same process to print words on fabric. Yes, that’s printing on linen that’s been overdyed with indigo.

In my next post(s), I’ll discuss my painting and quilting processes for these art quilts.

The story of the quilt pictured at the top of the post, the man with the bicycle, is here.

Photos Tell Stories

I love to find old photos of people I don’t know.  Pictures tell stories, and y’all know I love stories.

One of my story quilts, Sprinster Sisters, stitched and embellished.

I’m preparing a presentation for my quilt guild on techniques used in textile collage.  One of my methods is to print photos on fabric, stitch a collage, then write a story to accompany it.

In getting ready for this part of my class, I went through my collection of photos picked up at garage sales and antique stores, and my imagination took off!

A “bad” photo…double exposure and such, but, man, can’t you tell this child is happy to be in her arms?

In my fabric collages, if I use photos of people I know, I feel obliged to stick to the truth.  I’m careful not to use an image without permission, and I strive to get the facts.  Those efforts take time.  If the photo tells a great story, or conveys a special memory, it’s worth it.

But, I do love to use a photo of unknown persons and tell my imaginative story. In those cases, the story evolves as I stitch this person, and it’s pure fun-writing fiction is a blast!

The photos I’m sharing here instantly brought adventures to mind…I can’t wait to print them and play with them.  One in particular is mind-boggling.  

It’s this family of four – printed as an 8” x 10” and mounted on a backer-board.  I saw it in an antique store over several visits, and finally couldn’t resist it.  The reason I was so intrigued is that the woman looks to be strange.  I know what I thought…but only verbalized it to Jim…he knows I have some off the wall ideas and wouldn’t think I had “lost it”.  

Some sewing friends came to visit, saw this in my sewing room, and one gal exclaimed, “That woman is DEAD!.”  “That’s what I thought,” I replied.  My friend went on to educate me about the Victorian era custom of taking a family photo ‘one last time’ after someone had died.  I then began to read about it and learned, that, indeed, it was a relatively common practice.

So, what do you think?  I think this might be the case … and my imagination goes so many places… about the physical limitations the corpse would present to the photographer.  And, the expression on the face of the little girl on the right tells me she may be traumatized for a long, long time.

Note: Some of the old photos I’ve shared here are not always of the highest resolution – but the quality is good enough to print on fabric, then paint and embellish – and that’s my process.

And the bride at the top? Don’t you think she has a story to tell? I’ve actually written the story…waiting to share it with you once I had it printed on cloth…gotta get busy.

First Date

Their first date was at a church gathering for an all-day-sing

They grew up in the same county, attended the same high school, but it was a long commute between their homes. Twelve miles represented a fortune in time and money – in the early 1930’s, times were tough.

So they wrote to each other.  And one heard about a sing that was going to be at High Hill Church, in a far corner of the county – some ten more miles from each of their homes.  But families took Sundays off and went to such gatherings.  They planned to meet up at the sing, and the courtship became official.

They married a couple of years after that sing and went on to live and prosper in that same county…the “til’ death” part lasted 52 years, all spent in Turner County.  Prosperity didn’t come quickly – there were hard times on the farm – but happiness and contentment flourished.  My sister and I benefited from two loving parents.

This art quilt I call First Date tells a story of their lives in Turner County and includes evidence of many memories.

I found a map of Turner County printed in the 1930’s in an antique store and transferred it to fabric.  The colors in it and in the photos of my parents from that era dictated the whole piece.  (And ya’ll know I lean toward browns….)

I made a legend for the map depicting the church where they had their first date with a heart shaped button.  Other beads and french knots show the location of their homes and church home.

I included do-dads from a milliner’s supplies (my mother was one of the last to give up the habit of wearing a hat to church), bits of tatting, lace, buttons.  

There are remnants of one of Daddy’s suits, a bit of lace from one of Mama’s dresses.

A fabric flower is made from barkcloth much like the living room drapes we had when I was a child.

I made this and mounted it on canvas several months ago.  I haven’t shared it before because I’m not quite happy with it on the canvas…I keep looking at it, wondering if it’s best that way.  I may add a frame or may remove it from the canvas and finish it more like a quilt.  But …here it is, as it is.

Update…since writing this post, I found a couple of relevant photos..

A photo of my parents shortly after their marriage in 1935.
A photo of High Hill Church made in the 1930’s shows how the church would have looked on the occasion of that first date. It also reveals how appropriate the name is.  In the flat terrain of Turner County (average elevation 407 feet), High Hill sits at a dizzying 420 feet above sea level.

Cousins

Jane and Susie were not just cousins.  They were first cousins.  They were not just first cousins, they were double-first cousins.  

Their mothers were sisters, their daddies were brothers.  They were two years apart in age, and shared not only all their relatives, more than the average common DNA, but many experiences.  This early photo (about 1940) conveys the closeness they shared.

This photo was taken at the home of their paternal grandparents.  Many family photos were set on this porch, on these steps, actually.  Imagine a Sunday afternoon after church, adults visiting on the porch; maybe other cousins playing in the yard, neighbors dropping by.  These two almost sisters (later, they would have other siblings, but not yet), forging a lifelong bond.

I printed the photo on vintage linen, and added red French knots as buttons on Jane’s dress.  The bow in her hair is a found earring.  

Layering the photo on wool batting before densely quilting the background adds dimension to the girls. The oval “mat” is a vintage linen embroidered placemat layered on commercial quilting fabric. Beneath all this assembly is a layer of thin cotton batting. Shells (repurposed from an old necklace found in a thrift store) were attached using red seed beads to anchor them.  I hand quilted all the layers together using a seed stitch with tatting thread.  This thread is a new discovery for me (found in a bag of sewing supplies from an estate sale).  I’ve never tatted nor made lace, but the size 80 cotton thread created for these crafts is perfect for a lot of the hand stitching I do. 

Note to quilters:  that seed stitch leaves a messy backside, so when I use it, I don’t have the final backing on the quilt.  I attached another layer, the piece with red cross stitch on it, using the invisible baste stitch I learned from Jude Hill.  That’s really a seed stitch, too, with just a dot of thread showing on the top, the longer stitch on the “back” nestled in the batting, not coming through to the other side. 

That backing with red stitching is a section of an old tablecloth.  I found it on an antiquing plunder and was drawn to the cross stitch, of course.  The tablecloth has some stains and had a hole in it – making it less than desirable as a tablecloth.    But I rescued it and put it to work.  It’s very desirable as a component of art quilts!

The final quilt measures 16″ x 23″.

Papa’s Girls

This photo was taken around 1920, the girls with the man whose name peppered lots of stories.  His daughters called him Papa, one calling that name in the days before her death.  “Papa is waiting for me.”  

In this photo is Papa with two granddaughters; Cleo was born in 1914, Corine in 1916.  Their mother died in 1918, giving birth to their little sister.  Their father was in the Army, then a traveling photographer, so he was not around to parent them.  They lived with this grandfather, spinster aunts, and an invalid grandmother.

The photo is printed on a fragment of vintage linen fabric, layered with wool batting, then collaged with bits of vintage lace, rickrack, beads, ribbons, hand and machine stitching.

The green background is a heavy linen fabric, frayed on the edges.  I try to channel the little girl in me when I’m playing this way.  One of the things I loved to do when I was a child was to pull threads on the edges of linen fabric to make a fringe.  I see I still have that skill.

The heart in the top left is a bit of a silk log cabin quilt that was deteriorated to smitherins.  I’ve used bits of it several times, but this time the edge seemed a bit too raw.  So I couched a twisted black and white cord around the edges.

I layered all of it on a bit of new commercial fabric that looked old to me, then used freemotion quilting in a heart strings design to make the many layers one.

The backing is another commercial fabric that reminds me of a dress my grandmother wore.  The label is becoming my go-to; handwriting on a vintage doily.

I’ve written more about these spinster aunts before:  https://sandygilreath.com/spinster-sisters/

And, did I mention that the older girl is my mother?  Oh, the wonderful Papa stories I’ve heard!  I remember more every time I see his image.

The finished quilt measures 26″ x 16″.

Emma Sue’s Work Basket

Emma Sue Emerson was born in 1930.  No, her parents did not give her that rhythmic name.  She was born Emma Sue Whittle, marrying Bob Emerson at age 20.

Bob and Emma didn’t have any children, but they would have been wonderful parents.  They gave of themselves to nieces and nephews and to the community as a whole.  Emma never worked outside the home much; in those days women weren’t expected to have a career.  Oh, she substituted at the grammar school when they needed her, sold a little Avon, and she sang in the choir at church.

Emma and Bob had seventeen nieces and nephews. Emma spent some time working on items to fill the nieces’ hope chests.  She embroidered linens, tatted edging for pillowcases, made some baby clothes when a new generation came along.

An accident at the canning plant in the early 1970’s left Emma’s right hand with some nerve damage and she could no longer execute the fine stitches needed for some embroidery.  She learned to write with her left hand and didn’t miss a beat with other day-to-day activities.  Those hope chests of the youngest nieces were filled with unadorned sheets and pillowcases (with neat hems done on the sewing machine), and copies of recipes handed down through the years.

An assortment of treasures from Emma Sue’s sewing basket came into my possession and I collaged them together to tell Emma’s story.

A bit of a stained and unfinished dresser scarf, a remnant of barkcloth (from draperies in the 1950’s), some lace, a tab from a linen shirt, and a collection of buttons reveal elements of Emma’s life.  A corner of one of her pocket hankies is held in place by a belt buckle from her sewing basket.  A large hook and eye like those used to fasten coats was included, too.

I wove a base from strips of cotton – some of which were in the basket, others I added from similar fabrics.  I attached it all to a bit of an old grain sack to give it a firm base, then used a quilt remnant to provide a backing and frame.  The dimensions of the finished piece are 16″ x 26″.

I hope the wall hanging will trigger fond memories of Emma Sue when viewed by those who knew her.  I love it when pleasant memories are not packed away in a box.

In Joey’s Pocket

As a toddler, Joey loved to pull his elephant toy around the house. He pulled that toy until the wheels fell off and then pulled it some more once they were repaired.

Outdoors, he loved to climb trees and collect things. His pockets were always full of rocks and sticks and bugs. Once his mother found a lizard among the laundry. Joey giggled when she screamed, but he never admitted that he brought it in the house.

I used commercial fabrics, vintage fabrics, ribbons, buttons, and other treasures to tell Joey’s story.  The piece is mounted on a remnant of an old quilt and measures 19” x 16”.

Treasures were attached using both hand and machine stitching.

Military Memories

I’ve recently been exploring stitch with paper and cloth again. The photo above is an early effort.

Yes, the label says really early – 15 years ago.

 This scrapbook quilt, Military Memories, seemed the prefect way to store and display some of Jim’s paraphernalia from his days in uniform. 

I chose some patriotic fabric as the background, pieced a border inducing some military motifs from a novelty fabric or two, and added ribbons, pins, buttons, and patches.

The black and white photograph is printed on paper and sewn on, while the map is printed on fabric. I used a wiggly stitch of some sort to secure it to paper

The back is camo fabric, but the paper envelope holding the label is easy to see. The quilt measures 11″ x 16″.

Yes, this is an early effort of mine, and the sparsely spaced quilting reveals that I’ve changed my ways – now I usually quilt things until they are bulletproof. But it’s interesting to me that I continue to find some of my earliest quilts were exploring techniques I still embrace. Fabric and paper stitched together – it never gets old.