Moving Ahead before Moving

Beginning to come out of a sinus/bronchial thing that's hijacked my life for a week now, I was determined today to do something besides cough and blow my nose. Even if it did take me twice as long as usual, due to foggy thinking.

The new studio isn't quite ready--no carpet yet, which is a must, due to the plywood floor. Can't stain that floor and make it look good, no way, no how. Just need to order the carpet, which we've already found at Home Depot--a short, dense pile that can in no way hide pins and needles (knock on wood!). Meanwhile, I'm struggling to do something, anything, creative in my little old bedroom space, where movement is now limited at best.

So out of purgatory today came one of my UFOs, a landscape quilt whose working title is Lida Luna. This is the quilt top (minus Lida, the focal point), which as of today is pieced, glued, and for the most part tacked down with mono-poly thread:

The focal point as I mentioned will be Lida (pronounced Leeda), the bird who will perch on the middle branch after the whole top is quilted. Here's Lida, who will get lots more embellishment, including eyes, once she's fused to the quilt:

 

Lida is 16 inches long and made of pieced cotton, fusible web, and some boa-eyelash type yarn for her feather-tips (you can see a sample of the yarn hanging from the clips on the design board). I knitted about 30 little pieces, each different lengths and made of two rows of knitting before binding off, then hand-sewed each little length of knitted 'feathers' onto the tips of Lida's fabric tail-feathers. And I couldn't resist giving her a boa!

Next up: choosing a backing, sandwiching the quilt, and pin-basting--which may have to be done in the dining room as with all my previous landscapes. But as far as the final quilting, it's looking like Lida Luna may be the first landscape to come out of the new studio! Lida was already kind of special to me (which I'll explain when I post the finished quilt), but that will make her even more so.    

Bargain Hunting for the Almost Finished Studio

Yesterday my husband suggested we visit the new Habitat Restore in Hikes Point here in Louisville (KY). I'd never been there but had been wanting to visit the older, Floyd Street location, so this sounded like a good idea. I mostly wanted to get a look at things like old windows, fireplace mantels, and other such architectural items. I don't need any of those things, I just love seeing them.

But lo and behold, five minutes into the store, I was confronted with what would have been the most expensive item I needed to buy for the new quilting studio--a sewing (office) chair. All that was 'wrong' with it was a little scuffing on the chair legs, and one glance told me those marks would come off with some window cleaner or soap and water (they did). The upholstery was flawless, the chair amazingly comfortable, and the lever for the height adjustment worked smoothly and perfectly. And it was GREEN--the only hunter-green, armless (which I prefer) chair in a sea of teal-colored chairs with arms. I was thrilled, as this very green is the accent color on the tile in the bathroom adjoining the studio, and the studio walls are a pale green. Even more thrilling was the price. But first, take a look at the chair:

The price was $20.00. That's right, twenty dollars. Later, at home, we looked it up on the internet. The brand is HON (which I'd never heard of, having been away from the corporate work force for 30 years now, but my husband knew it was a good brand.) This particular chair, it turns out, retails for $149.00 and up.

After I had wheeled the chair up to the checkout along with a lovely, sturdy basket I'd picked up for $2.50, I saw that my husband was over checking out recycled, bagged and nicely displayed electrical parts. So I just waited, idly observing the merchandise around me. And that's when this little gem caught my eye, stuck unobtrusively between a wine rack and an entertainment unit:

 

You can probably tell this is entirely homemade. Someone actually seamed two pieces of thin plywood to make the back. But the shelves are unwarped and plenty sturdy enough to hold fabric--and the thing is GREEN! The same green as the chair! Weird, huh? What can I say...I fell in love with it. Even the glued-on strip of border-wallpaper didn't bother me. After all, it looks a bit like the border on a quilt. And I just noticed how similar it is to the fleece throw on our basement chair in the photo. Hmmm...that throw just might end up in the studio. But I digress. The price on this homemade shelf unit was a little steep, I think--$15.00. But you can't put a price on love. I'm keeping this little guy as is, missing knothole, chipped paint and all. I truly think he was waiting for me to come along and adopt him. And he'll fit right in--literally. Right in the space between my little computer desk and my old card table. I can't wait to get him up there in his new home.

 

Check out Habitat Restore's website here: http://www.louisvillerestore.com/

 

Good hunting!

 

Linda

 

 

 





New Beginnings

In the three years since I started quilting, I've gone from this--

 

to this--

 



--in one little 10' x 12' room. I started out with one sewing machine, my incredibly reliable  22-year-old Husqvarna Viking 630. I made my first three quilts (landscapes) on it, and then after reading Leah Day's blog at the Free Motion Quilting Project, I upgraded to the even more amazing Janome Horizon 7700.

I quickly realized, once the new machine got settled in its new table, that I really didn't want to cart this big mama to classes. Enter the Janome Sewist 500 (at left, under cover) which is much smaller and lighter, and allows me to piece or embroider one landscape while another is being quilted on the larger machine.

Add to all this the various supplies and the fabric stash I've amassed in three years, and the room has become depressingly cluttered...so cluttered that there is now a path to the bed and a path to the computer (not in the photo). That's it. I can barely design, cut, glue, sew, or even move around. Storage is at full capacity--a closet shelf and various plastic tubs and drawer units tucked into any available space. I am nothing if not spatially efficient and economical, but at this point, it's all filled--although none of it is waist-high yet, thank goodness.

Nor will it ever be. Enter EMPTY NEST SYNDROME. This could have been a bad thing, and yes, it was somewhat emotional for me, but when my youngest child moved out in September of last year, the entire top floor became available. Sounds great, huh? Yeah, well, here's what it looked like several days after my husband had patched all the nail holes in the walls and started repainting them pale green. See the turquoise wall on the right? The entire room looked like this after he finished patching. This room had been our boys' room, together as tykes, separately in later years, for 20+ years altogether. Quite obviously, we allowed them to hang posters, photos, etc. anywhere they chose.

 

We didn't allow drawing on the walls, but apparently we were not clear about this. Consequently, this little gem (below) appeared next to a light switch. I insist now that it remain untouched (don't ask me who or what it is, I have no idea...South Park character, maybe?) as a nostalgic part of my studio. The son who executed this little illustration in his pre-teen years has since become an artist and musician--as has our other son, along with their 'regular' jobs. Not much of a coincidence, I guess, as my husband and I met at art school.

 



 

At this point in the renovations, I started getting really excited. This is actually going to happen, my heretofore cautious (and barely patient) inner quilter whispered. You are really going to have a studio! I worked out a floorplan, measurements and every piece of furniture and equipment (and every inch of space) accounted for, and enjoyed every moment of it. Yep, I had the easy part, by far. My husband has put weeks of labor and sweat and, yes, love, into this project. (Thank you, Mark. :)

 

Here's how the walls are looking now:

 



Needless to say, the carpet is going bye-bye, along with all remnants of my older son's painting spills during high school. (Fortunately for his new wife, he is totally into music now.) We'll be replacing that carpet as soon as my husband repairs the rotting plumbing under the bathroom sink (the house is 60 years old, so I guess it shouldn't have surprised us). After that--all quilting-related equipment and supplies get moved up here. I can't wait!!

But I will.  :)