I went looking for inspiration this morning because I was starting something new and had no ideas.  I found my Diebenkorn book which is from an exhibit of painting done on cigar box covers mostly about 5″x5″.  They reminded me of my potholders, that would do for inspiration.

Next I started sifting through my fabric.  I don’t know how long it took, but it seemed like hours before I came up with the colors.  This was a struggle,  but I reminded myself that I had never made placemats before, and it would take a few tries before I got it right.  It seems like it shouldn’t be so different from a quilt or potholders, but  size changes everything.   I put the Diebenkorn book back on the shelf (I kept looking at it as I was working and found it distracting)  and  after a few tries, this is what I came up with.

I stared at it for a while and decided it was hideous.  Then I looked at the place where the   hospital green, orange print, orange and red  came together (always my favorite part of any quilt, where the fabric comes together with the fabric)  and as my eye traveled across it to the last piece of red fabric (like a period at the end of a sentence) , I decided to trust the intuition that got me to this point and just sew it together.

Of course, the first thing I noticed, is the line where the two pieces of red fabric are sewn together. It is  going directly down the middle of the placemat.  It’s one of those things I always have to be conscious of.  I naturally divide all my quilts in half.  I can  see its happened again and again, just on this one placemat.  Too many pieces of fabric the same width, not enough variety.  At least I no longer think it’s hideous.

So here’s the finished piece.   Next time I’ll have a little more fun with the shape.
I like the colors, so tomorrow I’ll have a place to start from.  My plan is  to make a set of 4, uniquely designed placemats,  using the same fabric  on each  (maybe throwing in a surprise now and then)  and making sure they aren’t divided in half.

Freida laid on the floor in the breeze of the fan today, it was too hot for her crate.

I’m not quite sure what it is about this quilt, but I know I love looking at it. Maybe it’s all the pattern, set off by the solid bright red. Or the overall feel, a mix of hippie and grandma, 1930 to 1979. I guess it looks nostalgic, yet it feels like a part of who I am now, it’s familiar. I think it’s the warm part of my heart.

Because the fabrics I was given to make the 44 potholders from were mostly solid colors, I found the designs to be more bold and graphic. I made a quilt once (I no longer have it and don’t have a photo) large blocks of solid colors. Maybe I’ll do another.These are some of my favorites from the 44.This one is one of the “non-functioning” potholders, mostly polyester, with the bathrobe backing.

I finished the 44 potholders yesterday and Frank picked them up. He seemed happy with them and said his wife would have appreciated the work. We chatted a bit and he told me some of his story. He and his wife had been married for 53 years.

About two weeks ago he had dropped off the cut off legs of his army fatigues. I made 2 potholders for his daughter using them. He said he may be back for more.

I found this card  in a bookstore in Chestertown VT which is a reproduction of a c.1790  painting from an unknown artist.  I bought it just before I made “Pieces of Myself”  and didn’t realize until finding the card this morning how much of an influence it had on the quilt.

I love the reflecting pool above the princess, which isn’t about symmetry like the rest of the painting, but about balance.

The morning glories are starting to creep their way around the barn to the back of the studio. I tied a string over the window to help them along. “Pieces of Myself” has survived it’s first wind and rain storm. It’s really the perfect flag, I can’t imagine it being inside anymore. It seems to want to be outside for anyone to see, making itself known. I’m thinking of hanging it higher and when the leaves are off the trees, you’ll be able to see it from a mile away.

Finally! Real business cards. For most of the people I know who start a business, business cards are one of the first things they get. For me it’s one of the last. When I was YesNo Quilts, I designed my own cards with a friends help and had to cut each one out with a blade and straight edge. Very time consuming. When I got my new name I decided to get “real” business cards. For the past few months I’ve been using the old cards and crossing out YesNo Quilts and writing Full Moon Fiber Art. Even more time consuming.

I guess a part of me was afraid of business cards. I grew up in a time when business cards were serious. Of course, now, anyone can just go to Staples and have business cards printed up in a day for $20. I tried Staples, but didn’t see any designs or colors I liked. I looked online too, but just couldn’t commit. There was too much to choose from. Anyway, I knew there was a way to use the logo from my website, I just didn’t know how to get it from the website to someone who could print the cards. When I thought about going to a professional with the idea I was afraid it would cost too mcuh money and thought I should be able to do it myself.

After months of this kind of thinking, and with a little push from Jon, I finally went to Image Loft in Manchester (they do custom framing and print Jon’s notecards) told them what I wanted and a couple of weeks later….. Full Moon Fiber Art business cards! Just the way I pictured them. Why didn’t I do this three month ago?

Recently a friend gave me a small paper shopping bag. Inside was some fabric, a 46 year old naked Barbie doll and a small ball of orange wool. I expected the fabric and Barbie, but the wool was a surprise.

The fabric was for a bag Suzy wanted me to make her. We had traded Barbie stories. She told me how when she was a kid, she coerced her minister ,who was visiting her in the hospital, to get her a Barbie because her mother wouldn’t let her have one. (Barbie empowering girls once again). She still had her Barbie doll, but Barbie had no clothes. I offered to try and make her a dress. Maybe something mod.

The small orange ball of wool was hand spun and left over from a knitted hat. It was the perfect little gift. Beautiful in itself, and meaningful in the work that went into making it. Suzy said she planned to keep all the leftover balls of yarn in a mason jar. I can imagine what they will look like. Mine will go in the studio, on one of the shelves or alters. An offering to art and creativity.

Frank, the man who asked me to make 44 potholders from his wife’s clothes left me a few pieces that were 100% polyester. He left the polyester clothes because they were important to him. A favorite shirt and robe, a colorful skirt. I didn’t think I would be able to use them, but I knew they meant a lot to him, so I took them. When he called back a week later and said he wanted more potholders and some for people to keep and not use, it became clear how I would use the polyester clothes. So the 10 potholders I made today are different because they can’t be used as potholders, they would melt.

I didn’t think about it too much until I started cutting into the pink robe. I hesitated, I could imagine the woman wearing the robe and the comfort it must have given her. It was pretty and soft and warm. It was something her husband saw her in day after day in the privacy of their home. And here I was, a stranger, cutting this intimate piece of a persons life apart. So I stopped. I though about not using it and realized that it would be worse to give Frank the robe back in one piece than for it to be transformed into something else. It’s about remembering and letting go.

I pieced together “My Heart” today. I’m not sure why, but I really love it, especially the area around the white and red checker board hankie.

I hung “Pieces Of Myself” (photo below when it was still in the studio) on the back wall of my studio. I think it’s the perfect symbol. It also has large bold shapes, easy to see from a distance. I didn’t actually quilt it or even back it, just hemmed around the edge to keep it from tearing when it blows in the wind.