This is an excerpt from my August 2020 email newsletter:
I've been thinking a lot about plans lately, changing them, the risk of making them, and the desire to make them. Also, I've realized that I may have been giving folks the incorrect impression that I don't plan much when I make improv quilts, and that couldn't be further from the truth. Here's a look at what I plan, and how I plan it, even though my finished quilts often contain many surprises for me.
Time. I am a heartless cutthroat penny-pincher when it comes to allocating time to a quilt. I vividly picture the time that something will take, and the usefulness of finishing that quilt at that time when I begin something. Having the right work available for an exhibition matters very much to me. So, I think carefully about my ideas, and only the very special few are given the time to be made.
Synchronicity of materials, concept, technique, and anticipated exhibition. These things have to sync up with all of my quilty desires in order for a project to get the green-light to be given time. In the back of my head, there's often a mix of interesting materials, techniques, and ideas swimming around. for example, I could make a quilt with machine piecing, hand piecing, wholecloth hand piecing, real wholecloth, pleating, layering under a scrim, trapunto, stretched canvas style, 5x5', 3x3', extra large, extra small, natural dye, hand quilting, tie quilting, faced binding, non-square, big pieces, small pieces, etc. These techniques then match with a material choice, and then match with a concept. Almost like playing a slot machine, these three categories roll into place when the moment is right for a quilt.
Timing. So, what pushes one idea from infinity to the forefront?
It's Necessary. Sometimes I'm processing something in my own life, and I need to make a specific quilt, that matters.
Or, there's an open call exhibition, like QuiltCon, Quilt National, a show with Fiber Arts Magazine, or a powerful quilt happening like Threads of Resistance or the WMQFA's biennale.
Another option is an invitation for a quilt. I've been invited to do shows like the Piecework Collective, juried museum exhibitions like Remnants or In Death with the WMQFA, or my artists residency with Have Company. These invitations often cause me to 'drop everything,' because they're special, but even then, I get to choose the quilt, technique, and material, and can often get the work to align with my interests and the opportunity.
A life event. This is different from things 'I need to make,' in that a unique opportunity is about to present itself. For example, when I traveled to India, I knew it was a special moment that I wanted to document, as it was the culmination of years of longing, and I wanted a 'diary' of that experience. I recently made a quilt top for the 100 days project (an open call), because I wanted to document this part of the pandemic (a life event).
Money. I recently received a commission to mend a quilt top and quilt it. It was a project that I thought sounded awesome to do, and maybe one day I'd've bought a quilt top to do that to on eBay, but the funding moved it to the top of my list.
Love. I've made 3 quilts total for my nephews, and those growing babies won't wait, so they got prioritized asap!
Teaching. Sometimes I want to teach a class, so there can be more quilts of a certain kind in the world, and I have to make an example so people can understand what I mean.
Curiosity. Sometimes there's a new technique that I'm longing to try, or a concept that I wonder if I can translate into a quilt.
Once I know the reason for 'why now?' along with the materials, technique, and concept, the quilt can feel REALLY PLANNED, but I go a step further by creating a mental compass. This compass is a way of directing and thinking about the quilt, so that if questions come up while I'm working, the compass can often answer the question for me. I might cultivate a specific phrase, image, feeling, or memory as a way of orienting myself with the work. This can answer questions around thread, knots, color, craftsmanship, binding, backing, and more. It's also a way of making decisions that I encourage my students to use, because it saves a lot of time and indecisiveness- it allows me to move forward efficiently.
You may've already noticed that my planning for a quilt doesn't stop with the binding. The planning goes into signing my name, adding a sleeve, photographing, sharing on social media, exhibiting, and ultimately finding a good home for the work. Completing the physical quilt can often feel like an insignificant moment in the life of the quilt or series, because there's so much yet to do for the quilt. Just like life, a mother isn't done when their child is born or when they graduate, and we're not done even after death, because our memories (and quilts) ripple onward.
Plan like life. I think that's the final element of the way I plan for a quilt. I like the idea that as an improv quilter, I hold myself to similar limiting factors as those that I experience in life. Lack of materials, time, or getting what I want are part of the plan. Adapting the making of a quilt to fit my lifestyle at the time is important to me. Working within the confines of my home studio, which is sometimes pretty messy, is part of my art. And doing things and then wishing I hadn't- that's a big part of life and quilting too. I attempt to deny the possibility of a misstep, and then use it as a learning experience or a point of visual contrast in a quilt. I might also obscure it with the quilting, and create a different focal point, but I try to avoid fully seam ripping and removing the offending attribute. Often times, the thing that I didn't love becomes the thing that most viewers respond to positively. Sometimes life is like that too... Basically: I plan to allow things to happen, and that kinda takes a lot of planning and paying attention.
Meuse, Pandemic, Invisible, Sweetheart 2020