Author: Nanette

It affects all of us

The past 6 months has given me tremendous food for thought. I have pondered the direction of my art, my life and focus. On this blog, I guess I’ve always pondered those things. Yet, something is different now.

As long as I can remember, I’ve had deep interests in nature and art. I was a big-city kid who loved hugging trees, picking dandelion bouquets and playing with earthworms. I also loved learning new crafting skills at school or with my mom. I majored in art in high school and earned college and graduate degrees in environmental and wildlife biology.

When I shared my artwork in the Paper*Canvas*Cloth exhibit at the the local Arts Council galleries this past November, I realized that my art reflected my education. I knew I had found my voice. Many of my pieces silently speak of lost natural habitats.

In February, I happened to be at the right place, at the right time, and was granted the gift to take a short walk through Muir Woods in Northern California. The giant and ancient sequoias seemed to speak to me. I felt I was in a magical place.

Then this past week, I took a once-in-a-life-time anniversary trip with my husband. We planned a visit to Las Vegas to see family. The majority of the trip was intentionally designed to explore the local desert landscapes (not the casinos). The last time I took a trip similar to this was in my youth with my family. To say that I was overwhelmed by the beauty of last week’s journey is underselling the emotional impact it had on me.

Simultaneously to these events,  I was also observing other things that impacted me, my art and my focus. It also happened in November; the election. As with any new presidency, there is curiosity about the what will happen with a change in administration. The past few months, I’ve been watching as new history unfolds and have become concerned with the  actions that effect my core beliefs. I’m seeing an assault on scientific fact and aggressive actions that would impact the natural landscapes of this great country (and possibly the world).

I grew up in a big city, I know what that’s like. But, I also grew up with a strong love and appreciation of nature. Before the election, my artwork was already giving account to the lost and endangered habitats. My mission hasn’t changed. What has changed is the level of caution I’m choosing to embrace in speaking out about it. I’ve decided that, from this point forward, my blog will not only serve as a forum for my journey with art, but also address my concerns about habitat destruction and preservation. I can’t stand quietly anymore, its too important. I hope you stay with me, because it affects all of us.

Fine-tuning

The past few weeks, I’ve been trying to fine-tune some techniques I’m using. Right now, I’m revisiting the Carolina Parakeets.

The attached photo shows the same quilt at different stages of the process. (If you click on the image you’ll get an enlarged view to see the details.)

With the image on the left, you see the fused fabric pieces and a little bit of coloring on the head/beak of the parakeet.

The bird on the right bird is completely colorized and has a sealer on it to keep it from smudging when handled.

When comparing the 2 images, look closely at the wing, tail feathers, and feet. The image on the right has more shading and definition. It doesn’t look so 2-dimensional. This is what I’ve been playing with.

I’m trying to make 2-dimensional applique look more like a painting. There are many different things I can use to accomplish this. Right now, my weapon of choice is colored pencils. There are limitations to using pencils on fabric, but there are also limitations to using pencils on paper. I’ll be experimenting with this process over the summer. I like where its going, so stay tuned, it still needs some fine-tuning.

Working in a series

One of the things I wanted to work on was small art pieces based on birds. I’ve completed a few already, but there are a whole lot more birds to choose from. The other day, while trying to get some inspiration, I did an Internet search for songbirds. Wow! There is definitely a ton resources related to neotropical migratory songbirds (birds that migrate during the winter months).

I studied “neotrops” in grad school and therefore have a personal connection to these birds. They’re another one of those creatures who’s populations are dwindling due to habitat loss. Doing the internet search opened up a plethora of ideas for me.

Starting with the Scarlet Tanager (pictured), I’ve decided to work on series. I’m going to make small art quilts featuring these pretty little songbirds. I’ll start a new one whenever I get into the “I’m not sure what to do next” stage of creating. The idea of working in a series has spurred a lot of creative inspiration. I know its going to be keeping me busy in the studio. It’s taken me awhile, but I finally understand the reasoning behind working in a series.

Either you’re in or you’re not

“Technically” I make quilts (2 layers of fabric sandwiching a middle layer of material, joined with stitches). Some people tend to classify quilts as craft.

Among the art quilt community, there is tremendous push to have what we do carry more respect in the art world. Some venues have strong views on art/craft classifications. Good and bad, I’ve seen a lot of art in my life. Some has me scratching my head in disbelief and other’s has me mesmerized in awe! Ultimately, art is in the eye of the beholder.

I’ve decided to go the way of my peers and enter more fine art exhibits. I’ve also pondered whether to ask a venue to clarify if they accept art quilts. After much consideration, I realized that asking is just casting doubt onto my own work? Do I really think what I do is craft? No! So why should I project a message of doubt?

It’s all relative and, take it or leave it, its all in the hands of the selection committee. The reality … its just a competition. Like every other competition in life, either you’re in or you’re not.

Let the left foot drive

When I purchased my HandiQuilter Sweet16, the salesclerk at one of the shops was rather insistent that I purchase their $1k stitch regulator. I insisted I didn’t need it and today I still agree. Want to know why?

Somewhere along my journey, I was taught to sew with my left foot and without shoes. Most everyone drives a car using their right foot on the gas and I am right-handed, so you’d think using my right foot would be the most comfortable way to control the foot pedal. And barefoot, why would that better?

First, let me explain the sewing process. The secret to consistent stitch length is to move the fabric in sync with the needle. The more “gas” you give the machine with the foot pedal, the faster the needle moves up and down. The faster the needle moves, the faster the fabric needs to move to keep in sync with the needle. When sewing pieces of fabrics together, it is the machine’s feed dogs that move the fabric. In free-motion quilting, however, the feed dogs are not engaged. The only thing moving the fabric is the sewist.

Free motion quilting becomes much like a dance, where your hands and feet need to work in harmony to keep the stitch length consistent. For people who have the extra $1k to buy a stitch regulator, they are paying for the luxury of having the machine control the process (much like a self-driving car). These regulators can sense movement of the fabric. The faster the fabric moves, the faster the needle goes…it doesn’t matter what you’re doing with the pedal.

Since I’ve sewn and driven right-footed for several decades, you would think my right foot could handle the job. In reality, my right foot knew too much. Piecing fabric and driving a car is different from free motion quilting. While I was learning to quilt, I literally had to re-train myself to sync my hands with my feet. It was a struggle. My right foot had strong muscle memory and knew “pedal to the metal”; my hands couldn’t keep up. In contrast, my left foot never had this kind of responsibility and didn’t “know” how to sew. By switching to my left foot, I no longer had to fight my old habits and I trained my left foot to control the gas. Sure it was awkward at first, but I quickly got the hang of it.

And why am I bare footed? In general, we wear shoes to protect our feet from sharp objects. The thicker the shoe, the less our feet “feel” the surface we’re walking on. When I’m shoe-less I have greater control of the pedal, because I can sense how much pressure I’m applying. Shoes barricade this sensation.

So, if you want to gain more control of your sewing, I suggest getting comfy, take off those shoes, and let the left foot drive.

 

 

 

 

 

My ancestors are guiding me

I’m happy to announce that my quilt “Soar” will be heading to Herndon, VA in a couple months. It was accepted into the “Sacred Threads” exhibits which will be held July 7, 2017 – July 23, 2017 at Floris United Methodist Church.

“Sacred Threads” is a biennial exhibit that conveys the spirituality, healing and inspirational messages that transcend all people. Without emphasis on any particular religion or theology, it is an exhibit which allows quilt artists to share their stories and be a source of healing and strength for others.

Like many artists, my work has an under-statement that is frequently unheard. Exhibits often don’t share the artist’s statement about the meaning behind the artwork. The viewer is left to their own interpretation or reasoning. The Sacred Threads exhibit allows the artist to submit a statement which will be displayed alongside the artwork.

I knew I had to enter this popular and well-received exhibit. It makes me very happy that my artwork will hang along side kindred spirits.

Why is “Soar” worthy of this exhibit? Here’s my artist statement that will hang with it July:

“Birds fascinate me. Although I studied songbirds in graduate school, it is the large birds of prey which I call my spirit animal. I have had numerous encounters where they have appeared, soared at me, or simply left a feather as a calling card. I become captivated when I see them floating in the thermal breezes of a Carolina blue sky. It is something about their size, keen eyesight, tremendous strength, and virtual silence that calls to me. Each encounter stirs something deep inside and I am reminded to persevere, because my ancestors are guiding me.”

 

See “Soar” at:

Sacred Threads Exhibit
July 7, 2017 – July 23, 2017

Floris United Methodist Church, 13600 Frying Pan Road
Herndon, Va. 20171
(703) 793-0026
www.florisumc.org

Emotions into a quilt

Last week I took a trip to visit my aunt in the San Francisco area. I use to visit a lot when I was younger. As I grew older, I had fewer opportunities to visit. Most of my visits as an adult kept me close to Silicone Valley. If you know the area, you know that it has it’s own distinct beauty, but it is also very congested with humans. Last week I visited Marin County, which, too, is over-populated, but contains some hidden natural gems; namely Muir Woods and Mt. Tamalpais.

Considering all the rain they’ve had the past few months, we were blessed with sunny weather each day. On one of these sun-filled days we took a drive up to Mt. Tamalpais. I was impressed with the vast mountainscapes (or as Californians would call them hillscapes) we discovered so near the urban sprawl. State and National Parks secure the forested lands and it was all breath-taking.

On our way down-hill, we made a side trip to Muir Woods National Monument. I don’t recall ever visiting this magical place before. As we strolled along the trails, I was overcome with awe over the gigantic Sequoia sempervirens. These trees, commonly known as the Redwoods, are massive and endangered specimens.

I don’t often have experiences like this, but I truly felt it was a spiritual encounter. I totally understand how John Muir (the monument’s namesake) viewed nature as a form of religion.

In some respects, the spiritual nature of my experience revolved around my concern over the continual loss of habit. My feelings were also due to the sheer size of these trees, reaching up to 380ft tall and 30ft in diameter; I felt small. It takes time to grow to this size, these trees are known to live 1200 to 1800 (or more) years old. I am very sure that the spirits I felt were greatly due to the age of these trees. They witnessed many evolutions of this coastal region. They emitted an energy and seemed powerfully wise, but I’m afraid few people actually stopped to listen.

Now that I’m home, I’m processing all of this and trying to figure out how I will interpret these emotions into a quilt.

 

The sky’s the limit

Yesterday I had the opportunity to give a lecture at my quilt guild. I’ve given public presentations before, but never a lecture about my art. It was quite an interesting experience.

For this presentation, I focused on my artistic journey. I spoke about how my early interest in natural sciences has revolved back into my life in the form of art quilts. It was fun to reflect, but most importantly it was important for me to relate my story to my audience’s own personal journey.

We’re all on a journey. Each new experience is something we can learn from. I believe, as humans, we are constantly growing and becoming better at whatever we do in our lives. I wonder sometimes how many people realize this. I think the realization comes from self-evaluation. My philosophy is that, in order to see the change, it’s important to reflect on who you were and where you came from.

I’ve found that many people compare themselves with others. I’ve heard many people state that they can never be as good as another. By sharing my story and reflecting on where I came from, they saw that my skills took time to develop. I didn’t suddenly start making art quilts. My reward was … I think they got it! They saw I struggled and got frustrated, but I continued to experiment and learn. That’s all I really hope. When someone says they can’t, I hope to encourage them that they can. The sky’s the limit.

See it

This week I am working on a lecture I’m giving next week. My topic is about my artistic journey, from wildlife biologist to art quilter.

It’s fun to reminisce a little, but it’s also pretty empowering to see how my journey through life led me here. I’ve worn many hats in my life, but there’s always been two things consistent; my love of nature and sewing. Early in life I wanted to be a environmentalist. I studied natural science and wildlife biology in college.

Later in life, I dreamt of being an artist. While following this dream, I pursued many different artistic styles. It was only recently that I had the epiphany that my love of nature was evident in most things that I created. It was my artistic voice and youthful passions demanding to be heard.

My take-home lesson from this journey, is just keep trying. If art is your passion, then keep making art. If the results turn out good or bad, who cares? Just keep doing it! You will learn only by doing and exploring. Your artistic voice/style will eventually appear. Also, be sure to add some personal reflection.  Like me, maybe your voice/passion has always been there, patiently waiting for you to see it.

Shoot for the moon

I’m working on some plans. There’s a check list of things to do. This year I really need to make a difference on how I approach my life and art. It’s somewhat scary to set out to rattle the cage, but that’s what I feel I need to do this year.

I’ve been living my life inside a bubble, but now it’s time to move outside that comfort zone. Someone recently advised me to focus on what gives me “fire in my belly.” Boy, do I understand that concept. Do you understand? It’s a feeling that something has ignited in your gut and there’s nothing that will stop you. Staying so focused requires a lot of energy. It’s easier to settle into the normal rut and lose motivation.

I want to prove a point this year, so my focus needs to remain fired up. I don’t want to lose momentum. I need to shoot for the moon.