Ellen Anne Eddy's Thread Magic Studio

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Musings: Art out of the Box: The Mentor Waltz

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Years ago I learned to contra dance. My friends, Donna and Roy Hinman dragged me out to play guitar for their band. It was loving-hands-at-home music. They insisted that all dancing should be to live music and they didn't care exactly how live the musicians were. They took everyone who was willing to practice, even me.

I was an unlikely candidate. My high school years were a cycle that ran between hide and seek and Lord of the Flies. Ugly things happened at dance class. I'm pretty good at taking a pratt fall, but I missed the humor. I'd learned to never go near a dance. Some humiliations are enough.

But Donna and Roy were relentless. Kind, but relentless. Not only would I play waltzes and reels, I would dance. Donna would take away my guitar I was hiding behind and Roy would take my hand, keep me safe, and sweep me into the movement and the music.

For those of you who have never done contra, it's the antithesis of couple dancing. It's really a lovely version of ring-around-the-rosie for adults. And everyone is included. Couples dance with everyone, sometimes holding their babes. Everyone is part of it.

But there is a skill set. You need to know which is your right hand. It really does help.

Now, what do they do if you don't know which is which? Someone kindly grabs your right hand and says"The other right hand." I love contra dancers.

Time passed and I finally began to learn. Before my knees gave out, I could stand on a floor, swing, hand out my hand, and find myself beaming like a pumpkin. It's genuinely fun.

It strikes me that this is exactly like mentoring. It's not a formal thing usually. It's just someone in front of you, a little unsure, a bit confused.The answers are simple enough. It's just like contra dancing. You grab the right right hand and give them gentle push in the right direction.

I've had wonderful mentors over the years. As a child, my neighbor Mary Annis taught me to sew, quilt, be late and not answer the telephone, all things my mother knew nothing about. She got me art lessons, cats, and confidence, but not in that order. She's a marvel.

Caryl Bryer Fallert was perhaps the kindest quilt mentor I had. I'd had a long worship session with the porcelain goddess before my first FACET meeting. It was Caryl who greeted me, talked about a quilt of mine she'd juried into a show, and then, over the years opened doors, answered questions, and purchased The Problem with Princes when I was trying to pay for medical bills. Caryl is the best quilter in America. No one has more talent and works harder. And no one is more gracious. Her work is legend in the quilt community. Study with her if you get the chance.She's an astonishment.

Over the years I've passed it on as best I could. I've mentored people, mostly not in a formal sense. Just in the sense that you grabbed the right right hand and put them on their way. Classroom is built for it. The end of class is never the end of anything. I hear from students years after as they go on to create amazing things. Often I see them later across from me at a teacher's table in a conference. I'm always proud for them.

But independent studio time is a more intense way to set up that. People come to my studio when they want, stay with me, sew as long as they want on what they want. And we focus on the direction they want to take. Lately I've had the privilege of having Genny Frazer from Australia. Her energy,sense of fun, and enthusiasm was contagious.

Lauren Strach is one of my favorite mentes. She came originally to the studio around 4-5 years ago, and continues to visit as a friend and fellow dyer. Her work is fearless and brilliant. She's shown nationally at Paducah among other venues.

If you'd like to come to my studio for independent studies, contact Melida to schedule it.

So I hope you get the chance to do both. To be a mente and and mentor. To grab the right right hand, to have gentle direction when needed, and to pass it on in the same gracious light. Come and join the dance!

Donna and Roy now run a Morris Team in Grand Rapids, MI. Morris dancing is a hoot and they are the best teachers you could find. They work both with children and adults.Their group is The Bells of River City, and if you're near you can see them there, or better still, join them in the dance.

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Sunday, May 23, 2010

Musings: Art Outside the Box: Not Quite Princess Diana

9:56 AM |

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"Diana
She might have been a Catholic,A Moslem or a Jew,
Red or black or yellow,Or some other dreadful hue;
But she's Protestant, she's English,And her blood is royal blue
She's a lady, she's perfection, She's Diana
Ya-de-da-de, Ya-de-da-de, Ya-de-daah-de"

(Ian Robb, 1981)

I am somewhat daunted by our attitude towards our public heroes. The fact that someone can sing like a nightingale, throw a football 4000 yards, run like hell, or create good art does not necessarily mean they're a small god or even always a good role model. I'm told Mozart was a drunken sot, although an admittedly very talented drunken sot. We have a news industry made just for exposing the moments when they're in public with they're trousers down, doing something they wish they hadn't. Or that they wish they hadn't been caught doing. It's always a scandal, and I think some people love scandals almost more than they love heroes.

The answer to that of course is to never be caught doing anything in public you wish not to be caught doing. I wish that were completely possible.

I loved Princess Diana. In spite of the fact that she was in a hopeless family situation and was living with the privacy of a goldfish bowl, she poured out all the love she had, over and over on the people in front of her, whoever and wherever they were. Yet she had her scandals. And I personally would not like to have died being chased by paparazzi while the world speculated about my sex life.

There's a problem with having heroes. They cannot live up to our every dream and desire. They will, in their humanity, say something or do something in exhaustion, fear, panic or pain that breaks our image of their godlike abilities. They will fail us. Hurt us. Humiliate us. Embarrass us. Say something awful. Then they're left like a cat trying to cover up an indiscretion on linoleum.

I've often said my job is to be like Princess Diana without the shoes or the clothes. When I go out to teach or lecture, my hope is to pour my care, my love, my dreams and my support onto the people kind enough to hear me speak. The reason for that is not that I have some special talent or ability. It's that I recognize that talent and ability in all of us. It's a delicate thing. It deserves care and kind treatment. The classroom is a gift we give that ability,teacher and student both,a time and space for talent to blossom and ability to grow.My students are my heroes. I am awed by their courage and ability, always. My hope is to celebrate that with them.

Do I fail? I'm so sorry to say, there are days. I make a very bad hero. I arrive exhausted. My blood sugar dips. I suffer from hoof and mouth disease. There are days where my hoof is definitively in my mouth. When that happens, words do fail me. I can't possibly say how sorry I am.

This quilt got me thrown out of an Episcopalian church One woman saw it as an evil thing. It was the Percival legend, with myself looking for the Holy Grail. Of course, I saw myself as a frog. She was so offended. Frogs are evil. Did you know that?

I hadn't got the memo on that myself. She took it as a scandal and ran with it. There was no way to stay there after she'd discussed it with the whole congregation. It's just as well. I really do see myself as a frog, often, so if she saw that as evil, I needed to be somewhere else. My mistake was to have shown it to her at all.

I hope you are your best, brightest, most lionized hero. I hope you recognize that the people around you who you admire are not perfect or godlike, but simply good at the thing they do. I hope you can see their humanity when they fail you by what they do or say. I hope you can take the good they've tried to bring you without throwing out everything when they fumble into something inappropriate. And I hope you can find forgiveness for the moments they are awkward frogs instead of princesses.

It's just as well I'm not Princess Diana. I could never wear those shoes.

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Friday, May 14, 2010

Musings: Art out of the Box: Falling and Flying

8:49 AM |

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Spring brings out the birds! I love it. I have wrens nesting in my ivy and a robin couple moved in under my porch pillar.

Yesterday, Mrs. Robin fell. She tried to fly and fell out of the climbing hydrangea. Cara, my mom-greyhound wanted desperately to help her. We discouraged that. I trust Cara, but Mrs. Robin wasn't having that and looked really terrified by a very worried 72 pound dog coming to her rescue.

Mr. Robin acted like most men do. He stood on the roof next door trying to figure out what to do next. Eventually he swooped down and brought her the birdy version of carry out food. As guys go, he was pretty good with the emergency.

My neighbor kids also wanted to pick her up, help her up. I did too. But we went online and checked. They said to let her find her way. Finally I spoke to a rehabber who said to wait until morning and then catch her and take her to the local vet.

It's a hard thing, doing nothing. It feels sometimes like impotence, sometimes like ignorance, sometimes like a lack of empathy. Sometimes it's the only kindness.

I woke up this morning to find her on the other side of the porch. I called the neighbor kids over, got the cat carrier out and watched as she flew delicately into the trees. She waited to let us know. She knew we meant her well. She wanted us to know she was all right.

When I saw that video of the hummingbird it reminded me. Sometimes we need help. Sometimes we just need someone to stand by us while we find our own way. Everyone falls. The hope is that we find the will to fly. No one can do it for us. But they can stand by, watch, wait, and offer us their strength until we find our own. We find our own wings and our own flight on the love and strength of those who watch for us.

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Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Fabulous Felt:Unthinking Interfacing

10:12 PM |

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It's funny how inflexible our opinions become. After having worked seven years at Vogue Fabrics in Evanston, IL, I thought I knew everything about every fabric in the main room. I may have come close back then. It was the best fabric education available that I know of.
The main room was the ordinary sewers room. It had domestic cottons, polys, wools and test tube baby fabrics like satins and lace. It also had the craft fabric, with a huge wall of felt.

Felt has gone through a lot of reincarnations. In the 1980's I would have given it the most useless fabric award with bells and ribbons on it.

The original felt of felt skirts and jackets was pure wool. It was a delicious fabric to work with. It was strong, bright and beautiful. By the 80's it also cost the earth. So it was replaced with a hybrid of wool and rayon. This nightmare fabric had curly wool fibers mixed in with straight tree bark fibers (Rayon is made from tree bark.) What a tactical error. Instead of being strong and vibrant, it was always pulling apart( curly and straight fibers don't make a good combination.) At some point I completely wrote it off as a fabric I would ever use again. It didn't even paste together well.
When the first poly felt came out it too was thin and nasty. So I've ignored felt for neigh on 15 years.

So I was completely surprised when Lauren Strach (a fabulous quilter out of St. Joseph, MI) came in with some embroidered flowers where she'd used the new poly felt as a stabilizer.

I began to experiment. I've been making a stabilizer sandwich with hand-dyed fabric, Steam-A-Seam 2,and a final layer of Totally Stable as a pattern. The hand-dye is the surface that the embroidery shows on. The Steam-A-Seam 2 fuses and stabilizes the felt. The felt is fused on to the surface fabric with Steam-A-Seam 2 and then the pattern, made with Totally Stable is ironed onto the felt.
So the sandwich, top to bottom is
   Surface fabric
   Steam-A-Seam 2
   Felt
   Totally Stable

I've used it for both bobbin work and for embroidered appliqué. It creates a solid easily applied embroidery where all the distortion is cut off the edge.
You can use wool felt as well. It's pricey and the poly works just as well.

The other thing that makes this work is Sharon Schamber's Halo hoop. This weighted hoop supplies extra support without having to be clamped or unclamped. See my blog Hoop de doo for more information about this fabulous tool.

Wrapping it up:
Poly felt makes a fabulous stabilizer for embroidery. And keep your mind open. Fabrics change all the time. There's no knowing when you'll a new use for something old.

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Fabulous Felt:Unthinking Interfacing

10:12 PM |

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Thursday, April 29, 2010

Musings: Art Outside the Box:Seedlings and Change

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You know you're a pessimist when you find yourself facing changes as loss. About every five years or so, my world spins in such a way that friendships, work styles, places of worship, folk I've called family, and even my pets shift and change under me. I feel like I'm standing in an earthquake. I'm watching things shake and wondering where they'll all be when the shaking stops. I wonder who I'll be when the shaking stops.

I do know better. I really do. I know that while feelings are just passing bits of chemical change, misery is a choice that I do not have to make. Misery is something that needs petting, feeding, care, attention. It's a lousy house guest and a rude pocket pet. Choosing misery is a selfish power play. It's a child's temper tantrum staged for pity or power.

The nature of our physicality is that things come and go. If they're living, they can't be confined or refined into a shrine where I keep them. That's a tomb, really.

We breathe in. We breathe out. There's no good in holding on to a breath taken twenty minutes ago. We eat. We release. At least we hope we do. There's a whole pharmaceutical market for when that isn't working. It's part of that body we wear.

So why am I surprised or hurt by the changes in family and friends? Because I'm terrified of the moment in that hallway of change where I'm waiting in the void. I do know that the void will fill. That too is natural. But that moment ( some of them much longer than others) where you wait past the change for where you're life begins after that makes me very nervous.

I could say this is why I don't vacuum. I don't think anyone would believe it, but it sounds like a great psychological excuse.

It reminds me that joy creeps in. I've never seen joy leap. Or run. Or crash through. It's a seedling that grows, not a tidal wave.I've seen it creep under my garden gate. I've seen it slide out of the drawers of my fabric stash or out of the pages of a book. It circles around through the lyrics of a song. It's soft and silly. I can let it in. I can ignore it. If I simply let it remain it will grow into something much better than where I am. If I dance with it, tickle it, let it tickle me, then the world is much better. I do tend to be ticklish.

How is this art? The world I live in, the world you live in, the world we all live in, is created by how we think about it all. Nothing is good or bad but thinking makes it so. My thoughts are as malleable as fabric and thread. My thoughts build the part of the world that is my response, which in turn, builds my world.

I'm going out to the garden. I want to see the seedlings.

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Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Shopping at Quilt Stores:The Care and Feeding of Community

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Every time I write something about a product or a quilting toy, I find myself first looking for an online link for it, and then writing this disclaimer that it's always best to shop at a local store. It feels a bit schizoid to offer those two bits of information. But I never know what will be needful. I know there are people who live at the back of the beyond. The internet is the world's largest market place. You can find anything there if you hunt long enough. I love the ability to read reviews. I hate vacuum cleaners. This may sound like a non-sequetor , but it's not. I just bought one I love, courtesy of Amazon and the three million reviews available. It's got it's place.

So why should we ever shop anywhere else?

There's a delusion that a store is only a place to buy something. I say it's a delusion because that may be it's primary purpose, but it's not its job. Stores create community. A great store is the beginning of a great community.

How does this work? It depends on the store. It depends on their attitude and what they offer their clients.It depends on the client's willingness to join in.

Do you need to know where the local quilt guild is?

Ask the store.

Do you need someone to fix your machine?

Ask the store

Do you need someone to show your quilt to before you bust?

Take it into the store.

Do you need someone to help you match the thread or fabric?

Ask the store?

Do you need to know about new products?

Ask the store.

Do you need to know a great long arm quilter who will finish your quilt?

Ask the store.

Are you beginning to see how this works?

But past that, it's a place to meet other quilters, take amazing classes, find out what's new, share your joy, and be with people who love what you love.

Whenever I travel I ask to see the local quilt store. What I find there tells me a great deal about the community I've come to teach in. I can see if they're traditional or arty, active or passive. The store is not about the store strictly. It tells me a great deal about the people it serves.

Much sadder are the places where the store once was and is now gone. The chain stores have a bit of everything, but never the focus or range you can expect from a store specialized in quilting. It makes a huge hole in the community when a store closes.

One of my favorite quilt stores is Glacier Quilts in Kalispell, Montana. This is not an easy place to get to. It's tucked right next to Glacier National Park. And it's completely worthy.

They have a mountain of fabric. That's always good.They have a brilliant sewing machine mechanic. That's always better. They've got a wall full of notions, and books, and all the fixings.

So what makes it better than that?

They have children who are part of the store. There's a large playpen for your child and they'll let you borrow their's if you're suffering from baby withdrawal.

They have machines set up for people to just come in and use. You can work on an aids baby quilt or bring in something you're working on and do it in company.

They host amazing classes.

They bring in snacks and lattes at need.

They're right next store to a outfitters store where your husband can be parked.

They have brilliant other quilters working there who will share their opinion if asked.

They create a community where people can go.

This is one of many great stores I've seen. It's one of the very best. This is what the internet cannot bring you: community in your community.

What is the price for this community?

If you don't support little stores, they can't support you. That's also true of vendors at quilt shows. They take big risks to bring you what they have. When you see bolts and bolts of fabric, you see not their wealth but their debt. They're prices may be a bit higher than a chain store because they probably can't buy in the same volume.

But if you're running off to the chain store 3 times out of 10, the chances are your little store won't be there in a year. So for perhaps 50 cents less, you can lose your little store.

We recently learned the Walmart lesson. Walmart put in fabric in their stores and undersold everyone. Everyone bought at Walmart. No one else could compete with their buying power. Many small stores failed under that weight. Now Walmart tells us it's just too much trouble to sell fabric. After all, it takes people who help you.

Perhaps this is the beginning of a good thing. Perhaps we'll have room for more great little stores where people meet for classes, learn cool things, and care for each other.

Wrapping it up:

If you're in Kalispell, visit this shop because you'll think you went home. Visit your local store and see how they make you at home there too. Shop the internet as a last resort because it really is that. It can't ever make you feel at home. Because home is where the heart is and the internet is not a place of the heart.

Glacier Quilts
125 Hutton Ranch Road
PO Box 7274
Kalispell, MT 59901
Phone: 406-257-6966 Fax: 406-257-6969 email: info@glacierquilts.com
www.glacierquilts.com

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