patch (im)perfect

slow, quiet note no.34

This week has been a week when the Infinite List of To Dos has needed attention and the annual end-of-summer gardening (read weed clearing and bramble hacking) has begun. I have been using bigger than usual scissors this week, cutting back rather than cutting out, clearing ground rather than creating and making.

I’ve been no slouch in the stitching department though, the ‘done list’ is not too shabby:

• I’ve blanket-stitched the length of a couple of pieced and embroidered scrolls - a perfect task for long car journeys and netflixing

• I’ve dug out a tiny pokeori loom that I was given last Christmas with a view to making small weavings to incorporate into future fabric collages

• the fabrics and threads are prepped for tomorrow’s workshop

• pintucks have been tucked in my quest to develop my fabric manipulation skills

I’ve also been patching - something I lean into when time is short and my hands need something to do other than phone scroll. Patching is my go-to, quick but satisfying stitch snack. It involves pulling tiny pieces of fabric from the tin of leftovers, layering and tacking them into small compositions and appliquéing them together to make small palm-sized patches.

patch, born in the car, made on the sofa

patch with French knots

collection of patches (2020-to date)

I like to group them together in various combinations. There are many, mostly tiny quilts of one variation or another. I always make them with the smallest pieces of fabric leftover from other projects and they have become a kind of personal stitch diary. I go back to them when working on something larger feels a little overwhelming or if there is limited time available to sit and stitch.

I make them in the car, on trains, watching the telly. None are bigger than my palm, and they are quick to make. For me they are small but mighty - they help me work out stitch and colour combinations for larger projects and I love making them. I’m trying to think of a way to display them as part of my upcoming open studio at the end of September. Do I stitch them together in a kind of assemblage? Put them together in groups and frame them? Create an installation with them?

This is just one of the decisions I need to make before the last weekend of next month. I’m participating in the Flying Monk Arts Trail and my ever-increasing to-do list looks like this:

• follow my own advice in clearing the decks

• select some larger pieces and quilts to hang in the space

• purchase a sumup machine

• set up a weekend ‘stitch with me’ station

• clean the studio windows

• decobweb the loo

• gather refreshments

• prepare some fabric bundles for sale

• plan the socials

It’s part-terrifying, part-exciting but I’m looking forward to doing something new and welcoming visitors. It’s always good to try new things and it feels like an excellent way for me to edit and review the work I’ve made over the last few years.

Tomorrow is also the start of #septtextilelove over on Instagram. This is an annual month-long prompt challenge hosted by Seam Collective which gathers together makers and artists from across the globe who share their love of all things textile and creative. I try to join in every year and I will share some of my posts via the Notes app here but if you want to join in as well, you can find the details in their link above or follow me over on Instagram to see whether I manage to post every day.

As ever, thank you for taking the time to read this week’s slow, quiet note. Your likes, comments and shares are very much appreciated. These Sunday posts will continue to remain free to read for all but if you would like to support my writing and work, I have set up an option to buy me an occasional or monthly coffee (or, in my case, threads and fabric).