Inspiration Series: The Beauty of the Butterfly

“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, 

but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”

-- Maya Angelou

The butterfly is a symbol of transformation, even of spiritual rebirth.  We can start as a lowly, unassuming caterpillar but emerge from the chrysalis as a beautiful, winged creature.  But what happens in between?  It turns out that we don't entirely know.  And maybe we don't really want to know.  Because what happens in the chrysalis is that  the caterpillar turns into goo.  Yes.  Soupy goo.  And while that is really intriguing, from a scientific standpoint (Wow!  How does that goo become a butterfly?), it is kind of, well, unappealing.

That's the problem.  We love to see the transformation, to celebrate the amazing potential for change, but we don't want to know the process, particularly if it shatters our illusions.  Millions of people watch the The Biggest Loser for its displays of dramatic weight loss, but I'm betting that fans would probably rather not be confronted with the show's brutal treatment of contestants.  We'd rather just applaud the transformation from fat to thin than be confronted with the realities of what that entails.  Shape magazine, for example, features "success stories" of weight loss, but refused to include a photo of one woman in a bikini, presumably because her belly skin showed the aftereffects of extreme weight loss.  They'd rather hide that part of her story, to present an idealized version of her weight loss.  We'd rather imagine that the transformation from obese to skinny is flawless and simple -- a modest effort of diet and exercise, and the perfect trim body is revealed!  But it's not true.  Radical transformation is often grueling, and it leaves its mark.

When we focus solely on the before-and-after, ignoring the process of transformation, we create a fantasy that change is easy to achieve.  This creates false hope . . . and crushing disappointment for those who expect to transform seamlessly and effortlessly.

We'd rather believe that someone is a "natural beauty" than acknowledge the time and money and pain that is often involved in achieving cultural beauty standards.  Historically, women have been encouraged to endure dangerous, costly, and time-consuming procedures to become beautiful, but then also to pretend that they look this way naturally.  Don't admit to coloring your hair or getting cosmetic surgery.  Don't complain about the pain of high-heeled shoes or bikini waxing.  Don't acknowledge the hours of effort that went into your hair and makeup and clothing.  Oh, I just rolled out of bed looking like this.  We demand not only that women transform to be beautiful but also that they then lie about it.

When I discuss social change movements with my students, they are often unaware of the long-term, difficult struggles that were necessary to enact change.  My students will say that the United States government "gave women the right to vote," rather than acknowledging the decades of struggle by committed suffragists who marched, were harassed and arrested, facing harsh treatment in prison.  Women like Alice Paul, who went on a hunger strike in jail and was painfully and dangerously force fed, are simply erased in the narrative that the government somehow spontaneously recognized the error of excluding women from equality under the law.  Change is difficult.  The process of social change can be ugly and brutal.  But to ignore the realities of history is to deny the work and suffering of those who fought for social justice.

Transformation can be wondrous.  But let's honor the process of transformation, as well.  We can start with these CT scans of the development inside the Vanessa cardui chrysalis.  Yes, the inside may be unpleasantly gooey, but seen from another angle, the developing butterfly is lovely.

Life is not a series of static before-and-after photos.  Life is a process of change and development.  Let science and history and psychology reveal to us the real truth of change, in all its complexity, both beautiful and ugly.  I want to know the changes the butterfly went through.  I think we all need to know.

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Notes on making these pieces:

I started with the quote and a photograph of an Owl butterfly I took when we visited the Butterfly Conservatory at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City.  The quote was an obvious fit with the photo, so that part was easy.  I did a bit of clean-up of the photo in Photoshop (cropping, fixing contrast, and using the filmgrain filter, which brightened the greens and made the colors pop more).  The photo and the quotation were printed on my Epson C88+ printer, using pre-treated fabric sheets.

I got three of the pieces started, but not finished, before my studio renovation, so they sat in limbo for about two years.  I have been eager to get back to these and finish them, but then had a bit of trouble getting started sewing after such a long hiatus.  So they have had a long mellowing process.  *grin*

(Note that you can click on the photos to enlarge them.)

Beauty of the Butterfly #1 (approx  5.9  x  8")

I started with this piece, which includes improvisational crazy piecing and raw-edge applique (using fusible web) onto a base of Timtex stabilizer (which was the base used for all the pieces).  I did some hand-embroidery to frame the appliqued fabrics, including back stitch (which I haven't done in a while) and french knots.  As with all the pieces, the quotation was fused and then edge-stitched using decorative machine stitching, backing fabric was added, and the entire piece was machine edged with a zig-zag stitch.

Beauty of the Butterfly #2 (approx 5.75 x 8")

For this piece and the next one, I explored sliced strata:  sewing strips of fabric together to create a striped unit, which is then cut at various angles and sewn back together with additional fabric strips as inserts.  I was inspired by Rayna Gillman's work (although only in general approach -- the final pieces don't look like her work at all).  I added machine stitching (with metallic thread) and some hand embroidery (using ArtFabrik's hand-dyed thread).

Beauty of the Butterfly #3 (approx 8.38 x 6.25")

This piece used the sliced strata, but with a a portrait orientation to emphasize the verticality of the insert strips (well, diagonality, I guess, since they aren't truly vertical).  I also mounted the butterfly photo on a separate piece of Timtex, added fabric binding, and then sewed it down to the main piece.  I wanted to try framing the photo separately as its own piece, rather than embedding it within the larger piece.

This separateness was enhanced by bead embellishment -- I created a picot edge using gold beads around the "framed" photo, and added seed beads, bugle beads, and glass leaf beads on the surface of the "frame."  Doing the edging proved more difficult than I expected because I did the beading after the photo was sewn down to the main piece.  Hand sewing through two layers of Timtex and four layers of fabric was challenging (I broke one needle and bent another), and I had to bring up the needle at an angle to get to the edge.  Next time, I might do some of the beading before mounting the piece (although it can be hard to machine stitch without hitting the beads).  I also found carrying the edging around the corners challenging (this was my first attempt at a picot edge) -- I might explore other options for the corner treatment in future pieces.  

The beading around the photo needed to be carried into the larger piece, as well, so I included some seed beads on the strata. I like the dimensionality that was created through the separate photo framing and bead embellishment.

Beauty of the Butterfly #4 (approx 6.15 x 8.25")

Here I went back to improvisational crazy piecing, but using the leftover strata pieces and trying to create greater value contrast with the bright green insert strips.  The fabric pieces crossed over the photograph to connect with the diagonal lines of the grass in the photo.  Unfortunately, that also cut off part of the butterfly wing.  So I printed out the butterfly photo on organza and fused the organza butterfly over the photo.  It creates an interesting effect -- the photo is a bit blurry, but also has more depth.  (The artist Wen Redmond uses organza to enhance photos on fabric, which gave me the idea.)  I added machine stitching and hand embroidery (seed stitch and french knots, using ArtFabrik's hand-dyed thread).

Beauty of the Butterfly #5 (approx. 6.5 x 8.25")

For the last piece, I wanted to go in a different direction, so I created a landscape -- or really, a grass-scape, I guess.  I was inspired by Laura Wasilowski's Craftsy class on fused collage landscapes (although I didn't strictly follow her process, nor does the piece look like her work).  I used hand-dyed fabric from Cherrywood -- my first time using their fabric, but certainly not the last.  I love the rich color and depth of their fabrics.  After prepping the fabric with fusible web, I cut out grassy shapes freehand and layered the pieces to create a field of different green grasses. I used a gray for the sky to blend in with the photo background, and fused a cloud shape from the gray fabric and one from the organza photos I had printed to create a cloud-shadow.  Then I did lots of machine stitching -- I edged the cloud shapes and did lots of "grass-stitching" in the green shapes to create texture.  I really like how it came out!

If you would like to be eligible for this week's Inspirations giveaway (for the card pictured at the top -- Beauty of the Butterfly #2), just leave a comment on this post by Sept. 6, 2015. Be sure that I have your email address so that I can notify you if you are the winner. I'll do a random draw and announce the winner during the following week.

Delightful Details: Embellishment at the Ethnographic Museum in Kraków

When I'm looking at clothing in museums, I'm always on the lookout for Delightful Details -- those little touches that make all the difference in the garment.  I'm particularly drawn to embellishment:  Embroidery, beading, and other types of surface design make my heart sing.  The Polish folk costumes at the Ethnographic Museum were full of embellishment and I tried to capture as many details as possible while I was there.  There is so much inspiration here -- I am excited about the idea of translating these folk designs into more contemporary clothing embellishment and textile art.

Remember that you can click on the photos to enlarge them.  (My apologies for the quality of some of the photos -- it's hard to get good photos in museums at times.)  

This vest features seed beads and sequins to create floral designs and shirt buttons (they look like mother-of-pearl to me) to outline the petals at the bottom of the vest.  I also like the triangle points at the top of the vest, which create an interesting neckline. 

The Ethnographic Museum (Kraków, Poland)

Folk costumes at the Ethnographic Museum (Kraków, Poland).

The next day we spent the morning at the Rynek Underground museum (as I mentioned in an earlier post) and then walked back to the Kazimierz district to see the Ethnographic Museum, housed in the former town hall building.

The museum had reconstructed interiors and models of homes and workshops (e.g., a fulling mill), tools and implements related to agricultural work and craft, and displays of folk art, such as nativity scenes (more szopka!), decorated eggs, and a special exhibition of woodcuts. However, I was mostly interested in the costumes.

The museum had a whole room devoted to folk costumes, and I spent a happy hour or so there, taking photos of costumes and embellishment details. Luckily, there was also a comfy sofa, so that Q could sit and wait for me to be done ooh-ing and ah-ing over the costumes.

The exhibit also had a nice general summary of Polish folk costume, noting that: "Costume was of primary importance in folk culture. It helped to determine social status, area of residence, marital and financial status of a person wearing it. The function of a festive attire made people spare no effortmor [sic] expense on it. Costume is one of the leading elements in folk art."

See? My interest is justified, both at an artistic and anthropological level.

Birthday Giveaway #2: Fabulous Fabric Beads

Do you love fabric and beads?  Do you have scraps of beautiful fabric that you can't bear to throw away?  Then this giveaway is for you!  In Fabulous Fabric Beads:  Create Custom Beads and Art Jewelry by Kristal Wick, you can learn to make beautiful beads from fabric.

This book is chock-full of information and inspiration.  The first section covers the basic materials that can be used to make fabric beads.  The second section explores a number of surface design techniques, including the use of paint, dye, bleach, paintstiks, gesso, foil, stamping, and more.  Then Kristal Wick explains how to make a variety of fabric beads, including basic rolled beads and more elaborate variations, such as adding rhinestones or wrapping with wire and seed beads.  There are also a number of jewelry projects included to feature your newly-created fabric beads and a gallery section for even more ideas for how to use fabric beads.  The instructions are clear and the book is full of photos that illustrate the instructions, step by step -- not to mention all the photos of beautiful beads and finished projects. You can see some of the pages from the book at Interweave -- just click on the "Preview" tab. 

We have a winner!

And the winner of the Inspirations piece, Stuff Your Eyes with Wonder, is . . . Cheryl!

Thanks to all who visited and commented.  It was very inspiring to read your comments!  I'll post another Inspirations set at the end of the month, so be sure to check back for another chance to win. 

Inspiration Series: Stuff Your Eyes with Wonder

I'm beginning a new series of small textile pieces that will incorporate quotations and images that reflect some aspect of the quotation -- I'm calling it my Inspirations series.  I'm inspired by this new series, and I hope that the pieces inspire others as well.  My plan is to make multiple versions of each piece, to explore different design variations.  I think this will work well for me, as it allows me to combine the thoughtful exploration of ideas as well as experiment with design and embellishment.  Plus, I'll build up a body of small works, which I am currently lacking.

Oh, and did I mention the giveaway part?  I'll choose one version of each piece to give away to my blog readers (that's you!).  I hope to complete a new set of pieces every month.  So come back regularly to catch the giveaways!  (Remember that you can sign up through a blog reader or get new posts by email -- see the links on the sidebar.)

Color Junkie

"The purest and most thoughtful minds are those which love colour the most."  -- John Ruskin

As I've mentioned before (here and here), I love color.  I am drawn to bright, deep colors, compelled by them.  Walking through the drugstore, my eye would be caught by the luscious metallic colors in the nail polish aisle.  The fact that I hardly ever wore nail polish seemed immaterial -- how could that compete with these gorgeous shiny bottles?  I finally bowed to the inevitable and gave them all away last year and have resisted buying more (thus far). 

Recently I've been getting my color fix through fabric.  I love making burp cloths, for example, because I get to put together bright flannels and chenille with contrasting colors of thread for the serged edging.  Having the fabrics run under my fingers makes my soul sing. 

I also had fun choosing fabrics to make linen dinner napkins.  Who needs boring, white napkins when you can have every color of the rainbow at your table?

And, of course, my fiber fantasy scarves are full of color and texture and sparkle -- what a joy to put so many different colors together.  It's like creating a symphony; each color has to live in harmony with the rest.  You can see pictures of my first fiber fantasy scarf here, and pictures of my fringe madness scarf here (check out the riotous color).   I'm working on a scarf now in blues and greens, turquoise and teal (oooh, love that combo); I'll post pictures soon.  I also made one in earthtones with copper accents and a bit of red for zing:

And, of course, colorful flowers are always a delight.  In the midst of winter, my Christmas Cactus offers a profusion of bright pink petals that look ready to take flight.

November, 2009

And one can find cut flowers and bouquets everywhere. 

From a bouquet we sent to my grandmother for her last birthday (November, 2010)

Blue roses (on display at Cedar Ridge for their gala event, November 2010)

Isn't this bouquet from my father and his wife lovely? (November, 2010

Now that spring is here, brightly blooming flowers are popping up in my garden; Q says they are like fireworks, exploding into full bloom one after another. 

I want to live a life infused with color.  Why shouldn't we be surrounded by gorgeous color in everything we do?  I believe that everyday items should be beautiful, so that we can have joy in our daily activities.  My philosophy is similar to that of the Art Nouveau movement, which held that art should be a part of everyday life.  Of course, napkins and burp cloths and flowers are not art, but they remind us that the elements of art (color, design, value, meaning) can be found all around us and that our environment impacts our experience.  We should design all aspects of our environment purposefully to enhance the quality of our lives.  For me, that means a life rich with color.

"The whole world, as we experience it visually, comes to us through the mystic realm of color."  ---  Hans Hofmann

"Color possesses me.  I don't have to pursue it.  It will possess me always, I know it.  That is the making of this happy hour:  Color and I are one.  I am a painter." --- Paul Klee

"Colour is my day-long obsession, joy and torment." --  Claude Monet


If you need a burst of color in your life, check out the items for sale in my Etsy shop.

Mud cloth vest: How long did it take you?

Vest back

Vest front, collar turned down 

My latest wearable creation is a cross-cultural fusion, representing the global marketplace at its best.  I used the pattern for a traditional Tibetan panel coat from Folkwear, with the outside panels from handwoven mud cloth from Mali and commercial black linen fabric, which were then embellished with batik-dyed bone beads from Kenya and cowrie shells.  The vest is lined with a cotton print that has a hand-dyed look and cream-colored linen fabric.  The facings are in a wine-colored linen fabric.  I can see that this is yet another example of my penchant for wearing costumes. 

Back of vest, half-beaded. 

See the difference the beading made?

 

Vest front, half-beaded 

The beading made a huge difference in this piece. Before the shoulder pieces were beaded, the vest wasn't particularly flattering. The visual weight took the eye downward, toward the wider part of the panels. I tried out a couple of different fabrics for the shoulder pieces, but none of the colors looked right. (I don't have much in the way of earthtones in my fabric stash.) In the end, I went with a heavier-weight black fabric (cotton? silk? I'm not sure). This helped support the shoulder line of the garment, but didn't create much visual contrast with the rest of the vest. Once I sewed the bone beads and cowrie shells on the shoulder pieces, the shoulders gained greater visual weight and looked wider, creating more balance with the width of the bottom of the vest. I also like the way that the batik-dyed bone beads blur the line between the black and white spiral mud cloth piece and the shoulder piece.

Vest back, detail of beading

Vest, front left shoulder, detail of beading 

Vest, left side

I knew I wanted to put the spiral bone beads under the arm to connect with the spiral mud cloth fabric of the front panels.  I also wanted some more cowrie shells, and I figured putting them underneath the spiral beads would camouflage the slight puckering of the linen fabric underneath the shoulder accent piece.  This ended up becoming a line of cowrie shell and spiral bead fringe, which has a lovely movement and sound as the shells bump into each other.  As a happy coincidence, this creates a visual line at the waist, which is flattering, particularly in a loosely fitting garment like this.  Who knew? 

Armhole, beading detail

This vest is a great example of why I have trouble answering the question, "How long did it take you to make that?"  First of all, I don't keep track of my hours in any precise way when I am involved in a lengthy project.  Second, I tend to work on multiple projects simultaneously, and I may put aside one project for months (or even years) before getting back to it.  This tends to happen when I hit a snag in the design or construction process.  

Vest front, opened to show lining

I started making this vest a year ago.  It took me a day or two to cut out the pattern pieces; this process was complicated by the fact that I was trying to maximize the visual impact of the mud cloth design from three separate pieces of mud cloth.  There were a few places where the weave needed to be reinforced, so I backed those sections with a piece of cotton fabric, using fusible web. I also had a hard time finding a lining fabric, as I have little in my fabric collection that fits with the muted earthtones of the mudcloth, so there was some hunting and pondering time in there.  I don't remember how long it took me to sew the panels together, but I put in extra time serging the raw edges of the fabric to keep the handwoven fabric from raveling.  Unfortunately, just as I was serging the last seam on the lining, I ended up cutting into the fabric.  Argh!  This kind of snag is what usually makes me put the project aside until I feel ready to deal with it again. 

Closeup of patch on lining

What with my work schedule and other projects, I didn't get back to this vest until a month ago.  I've been on a mission to finish up my works-in-progress, so I pulled this project out as the next to be completed.  I decided to put a patch on the cut section of the lining fabric, so I had to hunt through my stash again to find a complementary fabric.  The cotton print with cowrie shells seemed perfect, so I fussy-cut a patch and fused it onto the lining, using a decorative stitch to anchor it.  It actually looked neat, kind of like a postage stamp or a designer label.  In fact, I liked it so much that I was sorry to see it partly covered by the facing.  It's nice when a mistake turns into a design feature. 

The next challenge was basting the outer layer and the lining together.  The outer layer had stretched quite a bit more than the lining, and I ended up basting, ripping out the basting, and re-basting, which took quite a bit of time as it was all done by hand.  Once that was fitted together, it was time to do the facings and the neckband, which I hand-basted, machine stitched, and then hand-tacked to the lining.  The facings and neckband alone took several days to complete, largely due to the hand-stitching.  It helped that we were snowed in, so I had a week to work on the vest (between bouts of shoveling snow, that is). 

Auditioning beads       

Then I auditioned various possible shoulder fabrics in between sewing cowrie shells by hand on the neckband.  I finally chose the black fabric and hand-stitched the shoulder pieces in place.  It was clear that it needed more beading, so I tried out various bead arrangements (more pondering time here).  After deciding on the bead design, it was just hours and hours (and hours!) of hand sewing the beads and then the whole garment was finally complete. 

I could, of course, try to estimate all the time involved in the design, construction, and embellishment of the vest.  But that isn't even the whole story.  Really, this vest began a decade ago, when I first had the idea of making a panel coat from mud cloth, and I began my search for the fabric and beads.  I got gorgeous pieces of mud cloth from African import stores in Georgetown and purchased bone beads in Dupont Circle and Adams Morgan (neighborhoods in Washington, DC).  I searched online for cowrie shells of the right size and color -- I only found the ones I used here quite recently.  Or maybe the story really began twenty years ago, when I made a Tibetan panel coat for my sister and dreamed of having one of my own (I probably should have kept that one and given her something she would have liked better -- I doubt she got much use out of it).  How do we count the hours of imagination and dreaming and looking for supplies?  

This is why I never know how to answer the question, "How long did it take you to make that?" except to say . . . "A long time."

There's Always Time for Love

I've always loved making Valentine's Day cards -- when I was a child, I spent weeks making construction paper valentines for my family and friends.  In fact, I gave Q a construction paper valentine when we first started dating (21 years ago).  He still has it.  In recent years, I've been making him fabric cards.  This year, the huge snowstorms meant that we got to spend an entire week at home together, which was such a treat. So in honor of our "snowcation" together, I made a card entitled There's Always Time for Love.

The main fabric is an embossed velvet in a rich burgundy color, which I fused to a thin batting.  Then I reverse appliqued the hearts, using images of clocks from three different commercial fabrics (I fussy cut the clocks).  Then I fused the whole piece to a piece of Timtex (stiff interfacing).  The edges of the hearts are satin stitched in silver metallic thread (YLI brand), and the satin stitching is extended into the center of the piece in a free-form pattern.  It ended up looking like tree-roots, as though the hearts are growing together, which I hadn't planned -- but I like it. I fused a piece of one of the clock fabrics on the back and satin stitched around the edges in black -- I think I did about 4 layers of stitching before I was satisfied with the density.

It still felt like it needed something more, so I poked around in my bead stash and came up with the letter beads made to look like typewriter keys.  These felt like they connected with the vaguely steampunk air of the piece. (Q is a big fan of steampunk.) Luckily, I had all the necessary letters to spell out "TIME".  I fussed a bit with their layout and ended up moving the M to make the curve of the word feel smoother.  I also found a silver charm with the slogan "Love Much" on one side and "Laugh Often" on the other.  I originally put it in the empty left space under the biggest heart, but it looked out of place and disconnected there, so I moved it to "hang" from one of the lower loops.  Then I added the blue heart in the middle, which provides a nice glowing center to the whole piece.  All in all, I'm pleased with it, although I think some of my satin stitching is a bit less even than I would ideally like, and I suspect I could have added another stitch pattern to give a sense of overall movement of the hearts. 

This was a more elaborate card than the previous ones I've made, so I feel that I've stretched a bit.  I like the addition of beads (I think beads enhance almost every project, so that's no surprise).  And Q liked it, which was the most important part. 

Today's visual inspiration . . .

is all about COLOR! I love deep, intense, vibrant color. Stained glass windows can have wonderful and inspiring color, such as these from the Basilica Notre Dame in Montreal:


and this cupcake and ice cream shop, also in Montreal:

Of course, I also have lots of color at home in my fabric stash.

It's been a grey and rainy couple of days, and I guess I just needed a shot of color. We now return to our regular programming . . .