Fixing a hole

I made this blanket whilst I was pregnant at the end of last year and into the beginning of this one. I followed the directions for Summer Garden Granny squares at Attic24, a wonderful resource for the crocheter.

It was great. Portable, used up all the little bits, plenty of room for colour palette creativity. A car journey here, a film there, and before you know it, you have yourself a blanket.

I searched around for the right way to join them together - I did not want any little ridges - and found a good method here that keeps it all flat.

But look what tiny little fingers, attached to strong flapping arms have done:

So in the snatched moments between tending to the sick I did some repair work. And now it is back to its proud self:

The decision to use grey as the joining colour came from my mosaic days, when grey grout used to make all colours sing. I think here it does the same, quietly providing the outline and working well with the darks and the lights. 

I enjoy this blanket every day, I really do.

Corners of my home

A seasonal illness has been working its way through the household, taking us all out one by one. So, not much time or energy for making. Boo. But a bit of time to play around with the things on my walls during those long hours quarantined.

A few newly assembled and distinctly orange corners of my home:

a collection of Hungarian plates from my grandmother's kitchen wall, a Hannah Hoch print, a still life painted by my grandfather entitled 'Breakfast Time', a plate painted by Kathie Winkle, an Indian cartoon extolling the virtues of good habits, and a postcard of a wartime poster about the importance of eating fresh food.

L-R: a linocut I made earlier this year: Polly immortalised it here,  'Heligoland' by Massive Attack, a vase from my grandmother's house, a speaker souped up by my uncle Anthony and a glass lamp from my grandmother's house.

Clockwise from the top: a papercut (part of a bigger installation I made for an old exhibition called 'Winter Stories', a clock found in a Brussels flea market, an ink drawing made by Theodore and Kathleen Major, a Kathie Winkle plate, a copy of a Hiroshige woodcut, and a mosaic I made out of crockery backstamps of the Thames.

There is something about the collection. Something that makes images stronger together. Or, maybe it is a case of too much art and not enough walls. Either way, assembling pieces made and found like this suits me as a means for my tastes and acquisitions to be constantly evolving.



Orange homage #1

As autumn gives way to winter, a tribute to mighty orange (and red):

 

the scene last week at Westonbirt arboretum

a work in progress happening on my hook:

One season above the shop nearly over, and there is so much making to be done.

Way out west #2: a rainbow shirt

Last week a young friend had his fourth birthday. This lovely flame-haired boy is currently into all things wordy. So I thought I would do his own word, on a t-shirt. Long sleeved for the cold months ahead.  

With all the sun and rain we are having in this amazing autumn, a rainbow popped naturally into my mind. We saw three in one day a couple of weeks ago.

I designed and made this freezer paper stencil t-shirt. They are really such a joy these stencils. I cannot recommend them enough. We took it on our trip west and I think he liked it.

He wore it to his birthday party, an honour. It looked really great with the chocolate train cake and four blazing candles.

Way out west #1: CD covers

Yes yes, falling golden leaves, starting the wood fire,  knitting a snood: these are all well and good. For some, the real signifier of colder weather is to curl up in the warmth and make compilation CDs. Not a playlist, an actual CD.

When it comes to compilations, I am more of a receiver than a giver. But, twice in the coming weeks we head west to dear friends and there will be music - both the listening to, and the talking about -  in abundance. Friend no.1 writes a music blog and you can read his words here. Friend no.2 is so industrious in his output that he has his own section on my shelves.

I had this idea to make some nice covers for compilation CDs. Not just a print out and a nasty bit of plastic that will end up stuck to your foot. But something tangible and beautiful, an object in this digital age. A small thank you for all the ones thrown my way over the years.

I made a template from an existing cover. I got down my box of paper ephemera and the fun began.

Can there be a better way to spend an hour than cutting and sticking?

I think these really worked. As with my favourite projects they are useful, quick, and full of visual potential. Hope they like them.

I am going to add the template (and the freezer paper tutorial) as a downloadable pdf in the next few weeks. 

A restoration

This mirror hung in my grandmother's hallway for many years. Not my grandmother who made the beautiful dresses, the other one. 

 Most of the things in her house were from the '60s as by then she had been in Britain long enough to be able to buy a house and furnish it. So everything was the mid-century look that is so desirable now. But, more about her and her elegant taste another time. As you can see, it needed some love and care. 

I sought advice from my old friend Brian at A&B Glass in Stoke Newington, London N16 (no website, they are Luddite and proud). I used to go there all the time when I made mosaics like this and this. He prised off the old mirror, cut around it and smoothed off the edges to make a nice new piece. He also advised me on how to do it.

The main body of the mirror was made of glass. Step one was to strip off the black sticky backing, a sort of fuzzy fablon. This mostly came off with ease and was seriously enjoyable.

I then painted the newly-stripped back with black gloss paint. Also fun as it was so shiny and smooth. I then fixed the new mirror to the front with mirror adhesive. And here it is:

No more checking my hair in parked car windows. 


Here it will hang, in my hallway now. 

Swedish sewing

I saw this Almedahls fabric in Skandium and it was love at first sight. Only one metre mind, beautiful Swedish design does not come cheap. I wanted it on the sofa in our kitchen, but I have wasted enough of my life straightening crumpled sofa throws. So I made it into a sort of quilt-throw. A thick one so it would hold its shape and not need any attention. 

This was going to be a world speed record project. I did not even measure up, I just chose the other pieces from my stash and cut to size by pinning them right sides together with the Almedahls piece. I then sewed the backing pieces together, added the 'filling' layer of the batting, and did a couple of lines of quilting to keep the whole together.

The large black patterned piece was brought back from India by my mother years ago. It is hand block printed and still smells of sandalwood.

I spotted this elegant linen round the neck of a dapper friend who kindly sent me an identical piece. To finish off I bound the edges with chocolate brown linen. And this is what it looked like yesterday:

Oh dear. I recently discovered the joys of the bias binding maker. A little gadget that helps you make your own trim, giving you nice neat and strong edges. 

I used the one on the left  to bind this quilt-throw with chocolate brown linen. It was too thin, and I am not a skilled and patient enough seamstress so it did not bind properly. So I found the larger, 50 mm one (the site I got it from does not seem to be around anymore but you can find one here) and it worked brilliantly.

Lovely mitred corners.

Here it is in action:

So yesterday I made the above pile of bias strips and re-bound it. And here it is:

There are a few tutorials out there to do this properly, which all seem to involve a lot of hand sewing. I bet that is a lovely job to do whilst watching a film. But as I said, I tend to make things in a hurry so I just pinned around and sewed it and that was that. Very smart, comfy and low maintenance.