Author: Nanette

You will improve

The past 2 weeks, I’ve been designing postcards and business cards; doing layout work in Photoshop, and dealing with technical issues with my Internet Service Provider.  There was a time, as part of my career path, I would spend all day doing computer work. It never phased me. I realize I’m not as patient anymore. Maybe things have gotten more difficult or maybe its just me.

This past week, I’ve also been designing an art quilt. I use patterns to create my applique designs. I could probably draw the design elements on paper, but I prefer to have a computerized (vector) line-drawing that I could re-size and re-use. Without going into too much detail, these vector drawings can easily be altered through the computer without distorting the quality. (note: I use Adobe Illustrator to create them).

For the piece I’m working on, I’ve been trying to change a photograph of trumpet pitcher plants (left) into pattern pieces I can use in my design (right). I succeeded, but along the way I had to re-learned some old skills and realized that there’s probably a better/easier way. (It doesn’t help that my software is a little bit dated.)

I could throw in the towel with all of this technology, but that’s not me. I am willing to learn new skills, but I also want to improve on skills that I already know. This is true for my computer work, but also true for my design, artistic and quilting skills. I crave learning and I’m always thinking of how to improve what I know.

At times, it feels frustrating learning new things. Its takes time to learn and become proficient. Its important to be patient with yourself. The first attempt may or may not be good and you can bet its not going to be a masterpiece. Give yourself time and practice; you will improve.


“As Nature Speaks, a dialog with an art quilter”
Featuring the artwork of Nanette S. Zeller
Oct 11- Nov 24, 2018
Page-Walker Arts & History Center, Cary, NC

Adding those final details

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I really enjoy thread-painting.  It makes better sense to call the technique free-motion embroidery, but thread-painting is a more commonly used term. “Painting” with thread is very similar to traditional hand embroidery, something most people are familiar with. When I do free-motion embroidery, instead of hand-sewing, I use a sewing machine to apply the stitches. In hand-embroidery, you move the needle across the fabric and in thread-painting you move the fabric under the machine’s needle.

Last week I used a thread-painting technique to create fern shapes that I stitched to the tree quilt I’ve been working on. I created the ferns by stitching them onto water-soluble stabilizer that was secured in an traditional embroidery hoop. I drew an outline of the fern shape on the stabilizer, then went to town applying stitches with my sewing machine. When I finished stitching the shapes, I un-hooped the stabilizer and soaked the stitched motifs under running water. The stabilizer becomes gooey as it dissolves under the water and eventually all that’s left behind are the embroidered threads.

Once they were dry, I stitched the ferns to the base of the trees. The shapes add a nice 3-dimensional effect to the overall design. With this addition, I pretty-much finished the large tree quilt that I’ve been working on these past few month. I trimmed it to size and now just need to hand-stitch the facing (aka: finished edge) it into place. I also think I’m going to use some hand embroidery to add some additional pops of interest to the ground cover. I find handwork relaxing, so I’m going to take my time adding these final details.

Live a little longer

I dabble in genealogy and really find connection with a Mexican tradition called the “three deaths.” Our first death is when our bodies cease to function. The second death is when our body is lowered into the ground. And the 3rd death is when our name is spoken for the last time.

Last week I wrote about my curiosity regarding the longevity of my art quilts. In that post, I was basically contemplating the three deaths , not some unrealistic concern about becoming famous. As I do genealogy, I love discovering a relative who’s been dead a very long time. I sense that when I find them, that they’ve been resurrected.

For me after I’m forgotten, I hope every so often there’s a quilt or 2 hiding somewhere which resurrects itself (me). Realistically, textiles are a very fragile medium to work with. There are so many factors which can destroy them into piles of thread and dust. As I prepare for my solo exhibit later this year, I’m thinking about what this all means … to be making things.

I’m near completion of a piece I’ve been working on for awhile and it struck me that there are things getting buried during the construction. I’ve added a lot of thread painting to this piece. This week, when it was time to quilt it, I had to cover up the back-side of the stitching. It amazed me to see how my stitching created its own art piece.

It makes me think that maybe, this process of creating can also experience it’s own stages of life and three deaths. My thread painting was once an active part of the process, but that is over now and buried behind layers of fibers. When you see the finished piece, the thread work does not take center stage as is does on the back. It becomes blended into the layers of fabric, color and quilting. This secondary art piece I unintentionally created is likely never to be seen again. So, I thought maybe if I leave it’s picture here, it might live a little longer.

 

What I make will disappear

Creative Goddess by Nanette S. Zeller. Created spring 2010/disassembled 2014

I wonder why people create. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. There are some of us who create for the pure joy of making something, there are others who make to give away, there are some who create things to make a statement, and even people who create hoping to be seen.

Recently I’ve been making art quilts which are meant to be statements pieces. In making my art I’ve also realized I do it to be seen. It may sound a little narcissistic, but why else would you put in a purposal for a solo show or enter an art exhibit? You obviously have something you want people to see otherwise you’d keep it from hanging in public view.

Some of this for me is also about leaving a legacy. When I die only 2 things will remain: one is people’s memories of me as the person and the other is any object I’ve created. Memories fade fast, but material objects created by a person can last a very, very long time.

Have you ever watched the Antiques Roadshow? On the show, people bring in their “finds” and are educated about the object. I am always so fascinated when the expert starts sharing the history of the people who created the piece. I’ve seen it with paintings, furniture, jewelry, and all sorts of objects. They tell stories about the object and stories about the creator. Sometimes the expert can recite facts from over 100 years ago. How exciting that the artisan is still being remembered for what they did so very long ago. There’s a legacy.

Do I really expect my work to last centuries? No, absolutely not. I use textiles. There are things I can’t control about longevity. I’ve seen quilts from the last century made from beautiful silks or cute little calico prints which have disintegrated over time. They didn’t know back then that some of the dyes which colored the fabrics would eat away at the fibers or would fade so badly that a bright red fabric would turn tan.

We’re much more cautious now and the textile industry tests their products. Do I really know for sure that the materials will survive 100 years or more? No. Sunlight can be suicide to any fabric (I keep my textile pieces stored in a dark closet). I can only hope that the fusible products, synthetic adhesives, fixatives and starches, or even the dyes in the fabrics don’t contribute to decomposition. But really, I don’t stress about these things.

As much as I would love to think that 100 years from now one of my art quilts will be considered a prize possession, I know that’s unlikely. I do take caution in what I use. I don’t knowingly do things that will damage my art, but I don’t obsess about the archival quality of a product I’m using. Like a memory, I know in time what I make will disappear.

 

Never too late to learn

I have always enjoyed learning.  Learning doesn’t always have to mean learning a physical or intellectual skill. Sometimes you can learn about yourself and what works for you.

For example, the past several months I’ve been working on and blogging about a new art quilt inspired by a visit to Muir Wood National Monument. This piece is huge and, at times, a little unruly. Two weeks ago, I found that I was getting very frustrated with the progress of this piece. Because I really wanted to get it finished, I kept trying to plug along with it.

Every piece I make is unique and requires different techniques to accomplish my vision, therefore I’m not very systematic about what I do. As I progressed on this piece, I realized I was super tense working on it. Little obstacles kept appearing that made me re-think my path forward. During my most intense frustration, I posed a question to an online group asking them what they do when they feel this way: “Do you keep going and fight through the frustration?”  or, “do you call a time out, put it away and start working on something else?” I got mixed responses, but most seemed to agree walking away was a good choice.

I’ve always tried to drive on, but this time I had other small projects I could work on to allow a temporary break from the large quilt. This week I put the Muir quilt under the needle again. Its amazing how my attitude has changed. I’m once again excited about stitching on this quilt top. I learned something new about my creative self – stepping away is a good thing. Sometimes deadlines keep me from having this luxury but, I also don’t think I do my best work when I’m stressed. With this experiment I learned something new about myself: I can and should take a break when I need it.

Knowing how you work and what you need to succeed is owning a very valuable tool for your productivity.  Do you pay attention to your feelings when you work? You know, it’s never too late to learn.

Are you ready to fail?

I’ve noticed people struggle to accept failure. I don’t like to give up, but I’ve experienced a lot of failures in my life. There are times I feel down about my failures, especially after investing a lot of time and energy into something. I’m very aware that not accepting failure causes me anxiety.

Being a recovering perfectionist, I’m keenly aware when the perfectionist starts taking control of me. I tense and become frustrated, but I know failure doesn’t necessarily mean something bad. Sometimes failure just “is” … something to accept, then move on.

In my artwork, I try to quickly recover from (repair) things that go wrong. Sometimes, its not possible. Maybe a piece of art isn’t meant for public consumption. Maybe, the process of creating is really what I’m meant to do.

As I continue my journey, I am willing to accept failure. It doesn’t need to control me or leave me obsessed about what it could have been. As I look at where I am today, I am more confident about myself than ever. I know what’s in my control and what’s not. I can look back at my life and see opportunities that didn’t become much of anything. And, I can also see nothing much that turned into something big. In retrospect, all those pieces, the failures and successes, have provided me with a tremendous amount of tools to drive forward. Sometimes it may take time to actually appreciate how valuable that lesson in failure was to your current success.

After years in college, I never did find gainful employment in any of my academic studies. … So … I’m not, the wildlife biologist I had hoped to be, but its still part of who I am in very important ways. Those formative years made me better at learning and observing which are integral to being the artist I am today.

I’m grateful for the failures, because I wouldn’t be who I am if everything always went as planned. My confidence has grown, because after failing, I stood back up. It’s all about an attitude of acceptance. You make some bad art, so what? You didn’t get in the exhibit you submitted to, don’t sweat it! You can learn from these things. Are you ready to fail?

 

 

Progress

I’m working on the thread painting stage of my latest quilt. Here’s a view of the back.

I’m not too concerned about how pretty it looks from this side, because in a little bit I will be covering it up with the batting layer and backing fabric. Once that’s finished you’ll never see this view again.

This quilt has been a bit of a challenge (sometimes they behave that way). While I was working on the foliage, I noticed something visually happening with the background. It truly bothered me, so I had to think about it for awhile. What do I about that issue? Hmm?

I don’t make cookie-cutter quilts designs. Its layer, upon layer of processes. Each quilt deserves a different treatment because I’m trying to represent different subject matter. You just can’t build a tree the same way you build a bird.

Some of my techniques are similar, but I’m literally winging it on every quilt. That’s why it takes me so long sometimes to complete these larger pieces. I have to look at what I’ve done and figure out how to do what’s next.

The good news is I’ve moved passed the tree foliage and I’m working on texturizing the tree trunks with thread painting. The problem has apparently been solved for now. Progress.

 

Your own satisfaction

Today I went had an artistic play date. In town, we have a local movie theater which plays artistic films and produces music and theater events. Its one of the cool things about this town.

Today the theater played the biographical documentary “Vincent van Gogh: A New Way of Seeing.” I guess I should have paid more attention to my art history, but van Gogh’s story was somewhat of a mystery to me.

I knew van Gogh’s iconic artwork; his self-portraits, “Sunflowers,” and “Starry Night.” I didn’t know how tortured his life history was. Sadly he only sold very few pieces of his art while he was alive. But, he was loved and cared for by his brother, Theo. If it wasn’t for Theo and his wife, Johanna, Vincent may have never had such fame.

The story was timely because, lately I’ve been thinking about artist drive and muse.  What drives people to create? Today, Vincent would have been classified manic-depressive and his treatment would have been different than it was in the late 1800’s. I wonder, if Vincent was alive today, would his medical treatment have interfered with his creative drive? We will never know.

I guess my take home lesson from my outing today is that there’s a reason we have artistic energy.  If we’ve found our muse, then we should create our art. It doesn’t matter what the obstacles are. Its important to embrace the energy, if only for your own satisfaction.

 

That’s OK

These human-created ideas of time elude me. Sometimes I feel like I’m just whirling through the galaxy. Occasionally, I’ll stop and think, “What happened to April?” or “Is today really Wednesday … already?” or “Did I really just spend 3 hours doing bookkeeping?”

In my life, I’ve experienced days that feel like they just would not end. Occasionally, that’s because the situation is horrible and I just want to move on. Other times, its because I realize I did a ton of things and notice there’s still plenty more time to continue enjoying the day. Ahhhh, … time … sometimes I love you and sometimes I hate you.

What challenges my acceptance is when I know I’m working non-stop, yet, have little to show for it. I guess we all want to see quick results, but I know that’s not reality. Today, I look at the scraps on my cutting board and see the energy laying there. The bits remind me to accept that time moves slow. I know eventually I’ll be on to something new. For now, it just is and that’s OK.

 

Where you’re going

I’m on a roll with my latest artwork.  Trees are positioned and its time to add the foliage. This is a bit tedious, because I’m not using a pattern. The tree trunks were cut from a pattern, but the deep groves and foliage are being free-form cut, positioned in place and then fused. Once I have all the greenery in place, I’ll start the thread work. I will quilt and stitch the layers together adding dimension with free-form machine embroidery. Still quite a bit to do, but I can see the progress.

Life is like that. Progress may not be quick, but as along as you keep working at it you’ll see the changes. Never give up, because little by little, you’ll eventually get to where you’re going.