When I last wrote about the new project I've embarked on using my batik scraps, I talked about the intrinsic beauty of batiks, about their wonderful hand-printed and hand-dyed character which reflects the manual processes used to make them. But I have to admit that once I got into my bin of batik scraps I found that many of the fabrics aren't what I'd call beautiful. In fact, some of them are downright hideous. The worst, in my view, is something that looks a bit like a vastly enlarged fingerprint, printed mostly in dull pinks which occasionally morph to dull purple. Ugh.
Then there's this one, which is so horrible I can't believe that anyone ever looked at it on the bolt and thought, "There! That one! I can't leave without it!" I really don't like the combination of dark green and burgundy and yellow printed with what looks like an enlargement of the crackle patterns one might find on an old painting or picture frame.
And this one? Teal and orange with blotches of brown? Yikes.
And for general beige/olive nondescript nothingness, I defy you to beat this one. In reality it's much blander than it appears to be in the photo.
So. Am I downcast? Am I going to abandon my project given the revolting fabrics I'm working with? Not at all! I believe that it's impossible to tell beforehand what the effect of a particular fabric or group of fabrics will be until they're actually cut and sewn together. And I've finished seven blocks now, and I have to say I'm pleased with what's emerging on the design wall.
Here is a selection of blocks in more detail, so that you can see how the fabrics are working together. See? Two of these blocks have that horrible pink fingerprint fabric, and one has a bit of that green crackle. but in amongst everything else, these fabrics settle down nicely and even contribute to the overall effect.
This batik and neutrals idea is my current favourite studio project and I had a wonderful afternoon working on these blocks yesterday.
The Midway Museum slice quilt has received a lot of contemplation but not much actual hands-on work. I did seize the day and fuse down all the elements I'd cut and arranged thus far. That step seemed like quite a commitment: it's fairly difficult to pull apart elements that have been fused (but I did it, since I had to in order to fix a wonky section of picket fence). Now comes what is, to my mind, the hard part: figuring out how to add the details that will create shadow and volume and the effect of weathering on roof and building and the grass that grows up against the bottom of the fence. I'll get there in the end, but I just need to identify the next step. After that, the next next step will probably come into focus in turn.
My dear husband and I took a day trip to Penticton last week and had a swell time which I'll tell you about next week, but I did want to share with you a couple of photographs. This is always a heart-lifting moment, reaching the summit of the Anarchist and seeing the coastal mountains suddenly heave into view. We were in sunshine here, as you can see, but the fog in front of the mountains was thick enough to require some pretty slow driving on the highway, particularly on the switchbacks down into Osoyoos.
This one gives you an idea of the outstanding beauty of the open country on the plateau. I love this monochrome array of trees, mountains, and fog.
And we discovered that Vaseaux Lake is frozen. Obviously we didn't stop so that I could get out of the Jeep to take this one.
The other highlight of this past week has been embarking on a new form of winter exercise, out of necessity rather than planning or the spirit of adventure. I blew a binding on one of my cross-country skis and the toe brace flipped off and disappeared into the snow. I'm sure it will turn up in the spring but for the moment it might as well be ten miles away rather than somewhere along the ten steps between the studio and the gate to the field. Not wanting to give up my renewed enthusiasm for winter sports, I took down the bear paw snowshoes that have been hanging unused for about ten years on the wall above the porch. (Thanks for passing them on to us, Mum and Dad.) It was not simple to get myself strapped into them but I got there in the end and lumbered out into the field.
Even more than cross-country skiing, snowshoeing is a workout (as my friend Rachel says, there's not much glide in snow-shoeing). I clumped out into the field just far enough to feel I'd had a good workout and then turned around. Each day I went a little bit further, tramping down my established path and then breaking new trail as far as I could through the deep snow. On day two, I blew a binding on the snowshoes, or rather the rawhide lace that fastens the toe of my boot blew apart. It was a long hike back to the studio for new shoelaces but we made it, the dogs and I. And today I remembered to take the camera with me, and I'm glad I did because the sun came out and now I can share with you my trek across the field. Django waited patiently by the horses' feeders while I struggled with the straps on the snowshoes.
Not very high tech, are they?
Here you can see the limit of my efforts through last week, with the unbroken snow stretching ahead toward the pond.
Today we finally made it all the way to the pond: it's under the snow on the left in the photo. Sass found the snow challenging. She's not a tall dog!
I turned around to head back and saw that the bluffs were beginning to be wreathed in fog. The machinery in the foreground is (I'm told) a side delivery hay rake.
Ben and Dixie had turned themselves into passive solar collectors. I think they were asleep.
So there you are, that's this week's news from Boundary Creek and the Shintangle production facility (as my dh calls it).
Ann, I just love that wonderful moment when the Coast mountains come into view and it is as you say 'heart lifting'! I am enjoying seeing the Boundary again through your eyes and seeing the progress of all your great projects.....thank you for sharing.
Posted by: Jill Hood | 01/12/2015 at 06:43 PM
Thanks for reading, Jill! I'm glad that I'm helping you remember life in the Boundary. At this time of year, when the library crew is starting a new raffle quilt, we often think back to previous quilts and people like you who helped to make them. Hope you are well.
Posted by: Anne at Shintangle Studio | 01/13/2015 at 03:38 PM