Creative Block?

Sometimes you just need a change of scenery. Kris and I usually take some time off at the end of the year. For me, time off doesn’t mean stop doing. I woke up one day and wanted to DO something–create something–something different. As an artist, when you have a style, it’s a good thing. But it’s also fun to experiment every now and again. So I went to our box of scraps, as opposed to our closets full of fabric, and pulled out some pieces. I saw these Japanese-inspired prints and thought they’d make a cute little quilt.

I framed each of the scraps in a color that would go with the print, then added another off-white border. To unify these disparate units, I found that a desaturated yellow, dusty pink/red and olive-y green looked good with each of the blocks. I picked all the scraps with these colors, pieced them together, and framed the block again.
Since I don’t have a long arm quilt machine, I like to quilt individual units and then join them together. That meant I had to have a back for each block. For me that’s an opportunity to create a whole different quilt, and I can try something completely different. I love Maria Shell’s pieced grids of color—especially “Wall of Sound” (if I won the lottery, that’s the first quilt I would buy).

So I decided to challenge myself to create something similar. For you non-artists out there, one of the time-honored practices in learning art is to copy the masters. You do it to learn, not to try to be the next Piet Mondrian or Maria Shell. I looked closely at “Wall of Sound” when making my first block, but after that I had to follow my own recipe. Here’s my recipe: Make 2-colored squares. Cut the squares in quarters, insert large pieced strips. These strips were themselves made of strips with stripes inserted. I needed 12 of these blocks to back the 12 Japanese lady blocks. It sounds more complicated than it was. For the most part it was mindless sewing.

 

A little aside: I have a condition called tinnitus, ringing in your ears. Mine’s about the frequency of a cicada— well maybe an octave higher. Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t find that sound pleasant. So I turn on background noise. This time it was the radio. It doesn’t use up any of my already-over-the-limit bandwidth. Classic rock. Most of the time I can hear it over the sound of the sewing machine.

Back to the mindless sewing. Where does your mind go when you’re doing something that you don’t have to think about? As it turns out, my mind wanders all over the place. Am I normal? I made notes of what I was thinking about:

• What was I going to name the quilt? “Channeling Maria Shell”
• But then what about all the other people that I thought about while sewing, like Mom. She always said you pay for both sides of the fabric.
• Auntie Yuki’s fabrics—lots of scraps from garments she had made, skirts, pjs, blouses.
• This is that jacquard fabric I bought in pinks and purples. I made an outfit out of it. Did I wear it to Oktoberfest at the Turnverein? No—it was too spring-y. Bockbierfest? I have a recollection of sewing it at Sac State. Why? Was it when I was in the drafting class? Maybe Kris will remember. [Kris writing here: No, Kris does not remember. She was drinking the beer.]
• I haven’t heard that song since high school.
• I hated that song because they played it too much.
• Do young people listen to the radio at all? Or do they curate all of their music?
• What are they singing? Fat-bottomed girls (Really?) Flat-bottomed? Black-bottomed? (Really?!?) It’s great that you can now just google lyrics instead of looking at liner notes.
• Is that DJ the same one I listened to 40+ years ago? He must be ancient.
• Do other people zone out when doing mindless sewing? All I have to concentrate on is making sure the seams are basically ¼ inch wide. Do sewers try to clear their minds? I can’t.
• Do other people just hear the same phrase of music over and over in their head? Crimson and Clover. Over and Over.
• Is my brain different than others’?
• Would I have studied medicine if we hadn’t left San Antonio?
• If I had to do it all again would I really study the brain?
• Remember the ape cages we’d pass on the way to the base?
• Oh! I love the a capella version of that song. The beat reminds me of visiting Africa. I understand why they say I miss the rains in Africa. Remember the rain in Zimbabwe when we were at the market?
• I loved that album. I listened to that album a lot with Kathie.
• Oh! it’s Boston. Cindy had a Boston cassette that we listened to on our drive to Tahoe. Remember the paddle sign that she had? We could turn to a saying and wave it out the window at other cars. What were the sayings?
• I think this was fabric we got from that grandmother who passed away. Who was that?
• I miss Dee. I’ve got to make something with that fabric she gave me.
• I think I’ll name the quilt “Memories.”

What do you think about when you’re doing mindless work? Come back next week and I’ll show you the finished quilt and tell you what I learned from copying Maria Shell.