Sunday, January 6, 2013
"At the beach Batik"
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This one looks softer in person, it's queen size and was just a project in using up inherited batiks while trying to play with color...Okay I'm still learning, but it will be a great blanket for picnics.
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To view All My Quilts click on "Older Posts" until you get to "Asparagus and Pepto Bismol Thrown up in Geometric Chunks". I started Machine quilting in 2003. All piecing is done on my mother’s old Bernina 840, and I machine quilt on my Bernina 830, using Electic Quilt 7 for all my design work. Now if only I had a spare $12,000 to purchase the new BERNINA 830 or the wherewithal to find a working Singer treadle!
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About Me
My first sewing project was a dresser scarf with large baskets of flowers on either end. I was about eleven years old. I can remember sitting on our front stoop with my mom as she taught me how to embroider, but most of all I remember the story she told about who had taught her at my age. It was one of her favorite stories.
In 1937 when my mother was about 11 she would walk home from school past the home of an old woman whose garbage cans were overflowing with thread, yarn and fabric scraps. One day mom got up enough nerve to open one of the cans and steal the scraps. This went on for a few days until finally the woman yelled out to her, "Little girl, there is no need to steal. If you want I can teach you the proper way to use all of those things. Ask your mother's permission, and be here tomorrow promptly after school".
And so began my mother's lessons. My mom would recall how the needle would constantly be pulled from her little fingers to gauge the tension. "You must keep your tension loose, fingers strong but relaxed,” she would say. She taught mom how to knit, embroider and sew. My mother became a gifted seamstress, sharing her talents with so many throughout her life. I included this story in her her eulogy the theme being, which part of us lives on, the part where we share our gifts.
In 1937 when my mother was about 11 she would walk home from school past the home of an old woman whose garbage cans were overflowing with thread, yarn and fabric scraps. One day mom got up enough nerve to open one of the cans and steal the scraps. This went on for a few days until finally the woman yelled out to her, "Little girl, there is no need to steal. If you want I can teach you the proper way to use all of those things. Ask your mother's permission, and be here tomorrow promptly after school".
And so began my mother's lessons. My mom would recall how the needle would constantly be pulled from her little fingers to gauge the tension. "You must keep your tension loose, fingers strong but relaxed,” she would say. She taught mom how to knit, embroider and sew. My mother became a gifted seamstress, sharing her talents with so many throughout her life. I included this story in her her eulogy the theme being, which part of us lives on, the part where we share our gifts.
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