THE FISK MAPS

One of the several avenues I take in my fiber art practice is that, using cotton canvas, batting, and thread, I make quilted renditions of maps. When about ten years ago I discovered the beautiful maps known as “the Fisk maps,” I knew right away that I had to give them a go. 

“What are the Fisk maps?” you might ask. Short answer: The Fisk maps are a set of fifteen maps created by one Harold Fisk, a cartographer who back in 1944 was commissioned by the U. S. Army Corps of Engineers to map the historical meanderings of the Mississippi River. A Google search for “Fisk maps” will give you several sites featuring images of the maps, of which there are fifteen, covering the territory from St. Genevieve, Missouri, to Donaldsonville, Louisiana.

I realized right away that there must be numerous ways to approach this project — numerous methods I could use. After careful consideration I settled on the one I’ll describe here.

Early on I wrote to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to make sure that I may legally use the Fisk map images. They assured me that I may, as the maps are in the public domain.

 To date I have made four of the fifteen Fisk maps. Well, I made map #6 twice, so I guess that means that I have made five of them. An astute viewer of my process photos here might note that I’m actually working on two of the maps at the same time — #6 and #8.

Several folks who have seen my social media posts about this project have asked for more detail as to how I made these things. Here ya go:

1. First, I Google “Fisk maps.”  From among the search results I choose the one with the best resolution and I save it to my computer. Here’s Fisk map #6.

 2. I use blockposters.com to enlarge the image to the size I want. In this case I enlarged to 60” x 40”.

 3. I print out the blockposter onto regular 81/2” x 11” paper, which in this case turned out to be 30 sheets (6 down by 5 across to yield a map 60” x 40”.)

 4.  I use a black fine point Sharpie to bold all the lines that define the river courses. If you skip this step you may not be able to see thru your fabric as required in later steps.  I also bold any major lines — creeks, for instance, that might fall outside the cluster of river courses. I also bold the numerals and letters that Fisk so thoughtfully assigned each color.

One or more of the maps features a key that shows the color associated with each number. This comes in useful later in the process.

 5.  I trim off the bottom border and the right side border of each piece of paper, and I Scotch tape the pieces together to create the full poster.

6. I cut and iron a piece of canvas several inches larger than the map.  I use cotton canvas, but there are other possibilities – linen, broadcloth, wool …

 7. I pin the fabric to the front of the map and place this fabric/paper map thing over my lightboard, on a table.

8. I use an Ultra Fine Point black Sharpie to carefully trace the map onto the fabric. Since my fabric is always larger than my lightboard, this step requires my moving the lightboard around underneath the map – or my moving the map around on top of the lightboard. 

 9. I remove the pins and separate the paper map from the fabric. I pin the paper map to my design wall.

 10. Working with the fabric on a tabletop, and the paper map within sight, I use Derwent Inktense pencils to color in one river course at a time. This is by far the most challenging part of the process, and requires the most time.

My view when I’m working on this step.

A few of the tools of my trade.

11. After the courses are colored with the Inktense pencils, I use very small brushes to set the Inktense by brushing aloe vera gel over each piece, one color at a time. This serves to “set” the dye.

12. I use a dark brown acrylic paint to color the “current” course of the river. (Current in 1944 when Fisk drew the maps.)

 13. I make the quilt sandwich that is comprised of the quilt back, the batting, and the top, which features the map that I have traced and “painted.”

14. Using a heavier, top-stitch thread in dark brown or black, I  free-motion quilt on all the Sharpie lines.

15. In addition, to further distinguish between some of the colors that are very similar, I add special stitching within some of the courses.  For example:  There are nine variations of red on the Fisk map key.  Within some of the reds I add stitching to help to distinguish them. In the photo below, though, you’ll see where I used an aqua-colored thread, in two different stitches, to denote color.

16. I go back to regular weight thread and add whatever quilting I want to the white areas outside the main cluster of river courses.  I try to remain true to the original map without exactly replicating this part.

 17. I “square up” the quilt. That is, I trim all the edges. 

 18. I finish the edges by adding a facing around all the outside edges.

I’m actually not quite finished with this piece. I plan to go back in and add more free motion stitching in the white areas, and more in some of the colors.

"Genocide at Horseshoe Bend"

Today, March 26, 2022, is the 208th anniversary of the Battle of Horseshoe Bend, a massacre in which General Andrew Jackson and some 3000 of his troops, representing the United States, executed a planned attack against a Muscogee Creek settlement located in this bend of the Tallapoosa River, in what is now the state of Alabama.   By the end of the day, Jackson and his troops had slaughtered somewhere between 800 and 2000 members of the Muscogee Creek Nation -- on their homeland.  

The Battle at Horseshoe Bend is considered to be the “Last Battle of the Creek War” and resulted, in addition to the immediate death and destruction, the acquisition by the United States of 23,000,000 acres of land, the election of Andrew Jackson to the Presidency, and the Trail of Tears.

I’d read and heard of Horseshoe Bend, but it wasn’t until last month when I visited the site that the enormity and brutality of the event became apparent to me, and I was moved to make this quilt.  The site is beautiful – a dramatic bend in the river, tall trees dotting a gently undulating landscape …  I can see why a group of Muscogee Creeks had decided to make the place their home. The site is now a National Military Park, featuring interpretive exhibits, walking trails, and a driving tour. I strongly suggest a visit.

The title of this quilt is “Genocide at Horseshoe Bend.”  Each of the red hand-embroidered seed stitches represents the body of a slaughtered Native American. There are approximately 1200 of these stitches. It is said that the river ran red for days.

36” x 36”

THE MARGRAVATE OF AZILIA -- PART SIX -- FINISHED!

Thang measures 8 feet high by a few inches shy of 8 feet wide. Started in November 2019, finished yesterday (August 30, 2020), but I worked on other projects during that time, too. Here are some close-ups and other photos —

Each of the little house plots is 3” square.

Everything is stitched — in thread. There’s no paint or ink anywhere on the quilt. I was particularly pleased with — and enjoyed creating — the text at the top. Will post better close-ups of it later, and maybe even a video of how I did it.

Below is a photo of the original 1717 map itself, as a reminder for what inspired me:

Here are a few of the templates I made and used: The little cardboard rectangle near the middle is what I used to outline the homes of the “landed gentry.” All 146 of them. The plastic thing on the upper left is the top of a chalk marker, which I used for the wheels on the smaller cannons.

And finally, here’s yours truly, applying the binding to the finished quilt —

I’m happy the piece is finished, but I’m also happy to report that I enjoyed every minute of making this piece. If you’ve read this far, thanks much for your interest.

THE MARGRAVATE OF AZILIA -- PART FIVE

After thread sketching approximately 652 trees (For real.), with about 150 to go, I decided to leave the forest for a spell and travel to the center of the utopia — the palace of the Margravate.

To accomplish this, I first enlarged and printed out an image of the center of the drawing. Then I traced it onto Sulky Tear Away Stabilizer, a product I use often in my map-making. I then pinned the stabilizer to the center of the quilt top and thread sketched right through the stabilizer.

Once the Big House was thread sketched, the real fun began: Removing the tear-away stabilizer.

Yes, there may be better ways to do what I just did, but this is a method I’m familiar with, and I felt confident that everything would turn out okay. I could have used wash-away stabilizer, as I sometimes do when I’m sketching something very densely, but that would have required that I use more water than I wanted to at this point and at this place in the piece. (I didn’t want to wash away all the lines I’d drawn for the formal gardens.)

Speaking of those blue lines, it occurred to me that some readers might not know that those blue lines will disappear with a light spritzing. That is, I use them to know where to sew, then I spritz and they’re gone.

Here’s the palace in its finished state, still wet from the spritz. Yes, I did manage to spritz away some of the blue lines marking the formal garden, but there are enough reference points left for me to be able to re-draw them pretty easily.

Now, back to the forest …

THE MARGRAVATE OF AZILIA -- PART FOUR

I’m making steady progress on the Margravate of Azilia piece, which I’ve been calling a quilt but which may not even turn into a quilt. That is, it may wind up being an embroidered or thread sketched piece without batting. We’ll see.

The 116 houses in the “landed gentry” area are finished, and their accompanying trees and pathways. Readers who follow me on Facebook already know that I goofed and made seven of the houses upside down! In consideration of the historical context of the quilt, I decided to rip them out and fix them, a task that took a whole morning, but only a morning.

Each of the 116 “landed gentry” plots represents one square mile, according to Sir Robert Montgomery’s plan.

I also got a good start on one of the four 25 square mile “great parks” featuring trees, deer, cows, sheep. (I’ve not stitched any animals yet.)

Lastly in terms of progress so far, I drew off the formal gardens surrounding the “Palace of the Margrave.” They’ll wind up being green, and the “palace,” yet to be drafted, will go there in the center.

One more thing I’d like to add before I post photos: I’m having lots of fun!

THE MARGRAVATE OF AZILIA -- PART THREE

This is a little practice piece I made just to see how to fit the little house into the 3” square, try out some colors, experiment with the border …. I’m pretty, but not completely, happy with it. House roofline will change in order to more accurately reflect the original map, and I think I’ll go with the “hedgerow” border as opposed to the “fence,” which I didn’t intend as a fence when I made it, but that’s what it suggested to me after I created it. And I’m pretty sure there are hedges on the original map. It’s hard to tell, but I think that’s what those borders are supposed to be.

I got the whole center medallion — about 65” square — drawn off into segments, and that took a while. Was trickier than I expected.

This morning I got a good start on the little houses. At present it takes me 3.5 minutes to make one, so if my math is correct it’ll take me a little better than 6 hours to complete all 116 of the suckers. That’s not taking into consideration the fact that I’ll probably get faster as I go along.

Then, when I finish the little houses, there’ll be the trees — hundreds and hundreds of ‘em — and the hedges; and the big house in the middle, with its boxwood garden (?); and then the several borders with their rows and rows of planted crops; and that crazy exterior fortification with its 60 cannons. Fun!

I forgot to mention the occasional deer and even, every now and then, what looks like a human.

Just so you know, I’m not in any rush to complete this quilt. I consider this particular piece a long-term project and will be working on other projects as I return again and again to The Margravate.

THE MARGRAVATE OF AZILIA -- PART TWO

Part two -- The Quilt

The idea of making a Margravate of Azilia map occurred to me several years ago. Since that time, I’ve been thinking and thinking – about how to accomplish the task, about whether I want to devote the time to one project, about whether I can do the phrase justice …   

I finally came to the decision, a couple of weeks ago, thanks in part to a prompt from an artist friend, that I’m ready for the challenge.  At this point a number of decisions lay ahead of me:  What fabric should I use?  Linen? Kona-weight cotton? My beloved cotton canvas?  What size should I make this thing? How will I construct this bad boy? Should I make it all in one piece, or should I individually make and then piece together the gazillion little squares?  How should I create the images? Should I free motion quilt them? Embroider them? Draw them with dye pencils? What about color? Should I include any? Should I stick closely to the look of Sir Montgomery’s map, or should I venture into the wilderness?

Today, one day into the actual making of the quilt, many of those decisions have been made. I decided on cotton canvas, whole cloth (one big piece) for most of the quilt, including all the little squares, with the borders to be constructed separately and added to the central piece after it is completed.  I plan to do all the thread sketching, using a fusible stabilizer on the reverse of the fabric, before I sandwich the three layers into a quilt.  Then, where will I quilt? I’ll figure that out when the time comes; shouldn’t be too difficult a decision. (Said Cathy at this very early stage in the process.)

I’ll keep you posted as to progress.  In the meantime, here’s a photo of today’s work:

My iron is my BFF today, as I’m fusing the stabilizer to the back of the 60” square that will be the central medallion of the quilt. It’ll take three 60” widths of the 20” wide stabilizer to cover the whole piece. Suffice it to say that there has been a LOT of math to get this far, and not all of it has been that simple.  I figured and scaled and sketched and figured and scaled and sketched till I got to a size (for the whole quilt) that would work, as well as to a set of numbers that would work -- for the fabric, for the stabilizer, for the machine, and for my brain.  At the far end of the table there is the bolt of stabilizer, Pellon Shirtailor 950F, ICYWTK.  Thanks to Sara Quattlebaum, a member of my Georgia-South Carolina art quilt group, for hipping me to this product!

After I get all three widths of the stabilizer fused to the back of the fabric, the drawing will begin – and I can’t wait!

Never mind what’s under the needle of my sewing machine up there. That’s another project, much smaller, that I’m finishing up – a special order of the Tennessee River for a customer whose home is there.

Stay tuned.

THE MARGRAVATE OF AZILIA -- PART ONE

Part One: The Original Map

 Ever since I first heard the term in third grade Georgia history, I’ve been intrigued by the phrase “The Margravate of Azilia.”  The sound of it.  Hear it?  Say it slowly. Isn’t it beautiful?  Especially the way my Georgia teacher said it, with her native soft r’s, the slow, extended unfurling of “Azilia.”   Later, in high school, my closest pals and I took to using the phrase as our calming mantra as we struggled with 1960s-era dangers so close to us – the war in VietNam, the struggles for Civil Rights …   Sort of like our own private om.

Beyond the linguistic appeal the phrase held for me, I’ve also been interested in the concept behind the phrase, the paternal side of my family having been among the very earliest settlers of Georgia. Here’s more on that concept:

In 1717, sixteen years before Georgia was founded, Sir Robert Montgomery proposed the creation of the Margravate of Azilia. Today the proposal is best known because of an illustration of the colony created at the time, believed to be the earliest example of American art created by western land speculation.

…

Montgomery proposed a colony of some 400 square miles between the Savannah River and the Alatamaha [sic] River in a tract entitled "A Discourse concerning the design'd establishment of a New Colony to the South of Carolina, in the most delightful country of the Universe. By Sir Robert Mountgomry, Baronet." The "tract" is somewhat of a prospectus for the project. A margravate is an eastern European name for a small colony whose leader is a "margrave," (ruler) normally with some form of lineage; Azilia is a Mesolithic European culture. The map that accompanied the tract was an impressive piece of work and probably served as the prototype for other similar ventures. Each twenty-square mile box represents a district or township.

…

In the center of the Margravate of Azilia a city "three miles square" with the palace of the Margrave at the center. Around the city "a void," as described by Montgomry, sort of a green space, of a mile. The ambitious plan called for a grant from Lord Carteret the Lord Palatine, and the Lords Proprietors of the Province of Carolina. In exchange the new colony would pay a penny sterling for each acre of land. (There are 256,000 acres in 400 sq. miles).

After the green space around the city came the homes of the gentry, the landed class. In each quadrant is an area of 25 square miles of "great Parks." One contains horses, one cows, one sheep, and the fourth contains deer. Hunting is portrayed in the area with the deer.

Outside the noble's estates were farms to be worked by commoners, who after a number of years of service to the Margrave would recieve title to the land. Finally, the land of the Margrave himself. On the outside of the square a defensive, walled parameter of eighty miles would be established.

Inhabitants of the colony, as envisioned by Montgomery, would be indentured from England's poorer classes. They would serve as both citizens and soldiers, when needed, to protect the colony from the French, the Spanish or the Indians. Overseeing this citizen army and the society as a whole would be the landed gentry.

Montgomery's idea was never more than a plan.

Source of text: http://www.ourgeorgiahistory.com/early/azilia.html

Source of image: https://georgiainfo.galileo.usg.edu/topics/history/article/fdrs.../margravate-of-azilia-map-1717

 The failure of Sir Montgomery’s plan is understandable.  I mean, who in the world would want to go out into the wilderness, family in tow, with the primary purpose of serving as a buffer for some rich guy? 

Okay – You get the idea here.  And you can read much more about the Margravate of Azilia if you Google.

The Hargett Rare Book and Manuscript Library at the University of Georgia owns several copies of the map. I plan to go lay my eyes on them.  

SNAKE SHOALS on the CHATTAHOOCHEE

52” x 47”

Cotton canvas, cotton batting, cotton thread.

Machine quilted and hand quilted.

This quilt, titled “Snake Shoals on the Chattahoochee,” depicts a nine-square-mile spot on the Chattahoochee River, approximately 20 miles south of Columbus, Georgia, and Phenix City, Alabama. Using U.S. Geological Survey maps as references, as I have with a number of other quilts I’ve made, I tried to render the map as accurately as possible. “Accurate to the width of my needle,” I like to say.

This quilt was commissioned by the Chattahoochee River Conservancy and will be raffled in the late summer of 2018, profits going to support the health of the river, via the Chattahoochee River Conservancy.

When Henry Jackson of the Chattahoochee River Conservancy first approached me about making a quilt for the cause, my reaction was nothing but positive. I love the Chattahoochee and very much appreciate its importance to our region – historically, economically, recreationally ….  

Henry did a good thing when he gave me plenty of time and complete freedom to make whatever I wanted to make so long as it had to do with the river.  My first thought was to work with the flora and fauna of the river, maybe with a focus on the shoal lily. But I made a couple of drafts of shoal lilies and wasn’t thrilled with the results. I also thought of focusing on the mythology of the river – the stories of tie-snakes, of giant catfish underneath the dams, of lovers’ leaps … But eventually I decided that I might save that idea for another time.  I was already in “map mode,” and it was to maps that I found myself gravitating.

Coincidentally, as I was mulling this new commission, a Facebook friend began posting photographs and stories about her canoe trip through “Snake Shoals.” Rachel Dobson, whose family is from Columbus but who herself lives in Tuscaloosa now, was doing genealogical research when she learned about her great, great, great, great grandfather James Boykin, who in the mid 1830s owned a plantation on the Chattahoochee at a place referenced on old maps as Snake Shoals. 

Rachel’s photographs fascinated me. At about the same time, I had begun to look closely at the course of the Chattahoochee. (I am interested in the courses of rivers and have for the past few years focused heavily on rendering those courses in thread.) Well, the Chattahoochee does not follow a course quite as dramatic as, say, the Alabama River with its deep and continuous curves, or the Mississippi with its countless oxbows.  The Chattahoochee begins in North Central Georgia, takes a southwesterly angle for a while, and then pretty much heads for the Gulf of Mexico (joining, of course, with the Flint at the Florida Line to become the Apalachicola). Now, that description is a “zoom out” view. When you zoom in a little closer, though, you’ll see the most dramatic double curve in the entire course of the Chattahoochee --  at Snake Shoals.

I began to look much closer at Snake Shoals and realized the special historical significance of the area. Until The Removal in 1836, the region had been occupied by Native Americans – Muscogee Creek, Hitchitee, Yuchi. In the 1600s this region had comprised the northernmost reaches of Spanish Florida, and in 1689 the Spanish had built a fort here on the river. Then there was James Boykin’s plantation. At some point there had been a ferry across the river somewhere along this stretch. In 1928 the Holy Trinity Catholic Mission was founded within this region. You can read more about the historical significance of the region on Rachel's blog. 

So Snake Shoals it was. My decision was made, and I set to work.

The quilt is made of cotton canvas and features both machine quilting and hand quilting. The contour lines are true contour lines, derived from U.S. Geological Survey maps. The red lines indicate 50-foot differences in elevation; the smaller dark brown lines indicate 10-foot differences. The blue threads indicate creeks and marshes. While this region is primarily rural, a few roads do traverse it. I opted to omit the roads and focus on the natural landscape. The only “human element” I have included is the hand-quilted suggestions of plowed furrows in the big flat regions.

I’d like to thank Henry Jackson and Sanna Moravek, Executive Director and Programs Director of the Chattahoochee River Conservancy, for the opportunity to make and present this quilt.  Thanks also to Rachel Dobson for the inspiration, the information, and new friendship. Thanks to Mac Moye for information regarding farming history. And thanks to Fred Fussell for encouragement and for historical information. 

Cathy Fussell

Columbus, Georgia

July 2018

St. Patrick's Day Quilting Bee!

March 17 was both St. Patrick’s Day and World Quilting Day, so to celebrate those two designations I had a few friends and neighbors in for a Quilting Bee.

Here’s the image from the invitation. How ya like the pussyhats I added?

Now, I have to admit that I entered this whole Quilting Bee idea as pretty much a lark – a way to celebrate International Quilting Day and an excuse to get some folks into my home and studio for some socializing and fun.  What I did not anticipate is how seriously all my guests took our task at hand. About twenty folks showed up during the course of the afternoon. Several, almost all of them beginners, sat at the frame and WORKED HARD for several hours, giving us a great start on the project. 

Our Middle Chattahoochee Riverkeeper Outreach Manager Henry Jacobs tries his hand at quilting, assisted by his girlfriend, Robin, and instructed by veteran quilter Virginia. 

We got some serious talkin’ done, too – and lots of laughing. Indications were that a good time was had by all!

Sister Ginger tells a good one.  I think, truth be told, she's describing our mother's meticulous sewing skills.

My guess is that a large part of what motivated the St. Patrick’s Day Quilters was the story behind the top we were quilting, and here it is:

Several years ago, I went through a phase of buying unquilted quilt tops off ebay.  They’re cheap, and some of them are beautiful.  I pretty much stopped this practice when after ten or so purchases I realized that, like the original maker, I’d probably never in my lifetime have enough time to get the things quilted.

But back to the St. Patrick’s Day Quilting Bee – As guests arrived, I pointed out that the top features sixteen signatures, as well as the date 1936, embroidered on one of the blocks. I also pointed out that there is no indication as to where – as in location – the quilt came from. But I had done a cursory bit of ancestry.com research and learned that without much doubt the quilt had originated in Springfield, Ohio.  On the bulletin board in my studio, the site of the St. Patrick’s Day Quilting Bee, I had posted a typed list of the names of the signees, along with bits of information I had been able to glean on some of them from the 1930 and 1940 census records of Springfield, Ohio.  I ended my little presentation by announcing that my goal was to, in due fashion, get the top quilted and return it to its community of origin.

I’m still trying to figure out what so motivated my guests at the St. Patrick’s Day Quilting Bee. Maybe it was simply the opportunity to try a hand at quilting. Maybe it was the connection to the women whose names adorn the 1936 quilt top. Maybe it’s the notion of the eventual community exchange.  Maybe it was a combination of all these possibilities, plus the tableful of homemade goodies guests had, unsolicited, brought to the bee.

This is the "before" version. As guests arrived bearing offerings, the table became more heavily laden. 

At any rate, quite a few of us are excited about this project and intend to see it through. I plan to put my own thimble into action and get some serious progress made on the quilt, after which we’ll have a follow-up bee or two to finish the piece. And, eventually, we might even talk about a trip up to Springfield, Ohio, a place I’ve surely never been.

A note about invitations:  I tried to invite folks via Facebook private event, but I’m afraid that some invitees did not see the invitation. (I know that because Facebook shows me a list of who’s seen the invite and who has not.)  My apologies for that.  Next time I’ll try a different method of inviting, to make sure that the invitation is more public.

Many thanks to sister Ginger Swint and husband Fred Fussell for helping host. Special thanks, too, to the veteran quilters who helped instruct others at the frame. Thanks to everybody who brought goodies. And thanks to everybody who came. I look forward to our next Quilting Bee!

Here, for your viewing pleasure, are a few more photos from the bee --

Suzi's Grocery

For the past thirty-plus years, my family and I have been involved in the preservation of Pasaquan, a visionary art site near my hometown of Buena Vista, Georgia.  I encourage you to read about this unique site, and view some eye-popping photographs, available by clicking on the link.

Our involvement with Pasaquan has afforded us opportunities to meet other folks involved in the preservation of visionary art sites around the country.  One of those sites is Margaret’s Grocery in Vicksburg, Mississippi, and one of those people is Suzi Altman, who has worked tirelessly for many years to see to it that Margaret’s Grocery is preserved.  Here's a sneak peek of part of Margaret's Grocery, but I encourage you to click on the site to see more images: 

Last year I was approached by Suzi’s partner, Nancy Anne Branton, with the idea of my creating, as a 2017 birthday and Hanukah surprise for Suzi, a quilt inspired by Margaret’s Grocery.   Nancy’s one request was that I include an image of this piece, a “home-made Menorah” (my quotes) that is an integral component of the much larger site:

Photo by Suzi Altman.

With great pleasure I accepted Nancy’s commission and immediately set about trying to create a quilt that would recognize the importance of Margaret’s Grocery and of Suzi’s devotion to the site.  Here’s the result:

Suzi's Grocery  48" x 76" 

Here are some close-ups and some photos of the work in progress:

Wrapping Up My England Visit

A little more than five months ago, I left behind my well-tricked-out quilting studio in Columbus, Georgia, and traveled to Oxford, England, where I would for six months serve as site director for a student residence. In terms of sewing equipment, I brought with me only my thimble, a seam ripper, a generic walking foot, a darning foot, and a small stack of cotton fabric that I’d hand-dyed. Within a couple of days of my arrival I went to the nearest big-box craft store and purchased a bottom-of-the-line Singer sewing machine, some pins, and a few spools of thread. I’d already found a decent pair of scissors here in this British house.  You can read a more thorough explanation, and see some images,  in an earlier post.

I had hoped that this minimalist experience – this return to basics – would be good for me creatively.     And I think it has.  More about that later.

What I did not anticipate, though, was how this experience has helped me to focus on what is important, and what less important, in my studio back home. 

Here’s what I missed most:

                Design wall – I rigged up a make-do one, but it was far from ideal. I did not have the space here for a good design wall.  And that gave me pause. Big pause.

                Rotary cutter and mat – Okay, I admit it. I went out and purchased these two babies. Couldn’t live without ‘em.

                A long straight-edge.  I had a two-foot ruler here, but no straight-edge that was longer. And I needed one BAD!

                Tables with cut-out for setting in the machine – Big issue for me. I just cannot do my best work – piecing, walking foot quilting, free-motion quilting, any machine work– with the needle plate surface of the machine several inches above the surface of the table.  I just cannot. Maybe others can, but I cannot.  In fact, I felt so crippled by this issue that I refrained from quilting one of the larger tops I pieced while I was here.  I want to free-motion quilt it, and I know that I cannot do justice to the top with this less-than-ideal set-up. 

                Simple six-foot rectangular folding tables with matte-finish tops. Oh, my lord I did not know I loved my regular ol’ folding tables so much!  Here at Spencer House I worked (or tried to work) on the two formal dining tables. Neither is rectangular, and their tops are slick as owlshinola.  I had to constantly fight with my fabric to keep it from sliding off the table. Finally I resorted to working on top of tablecloths, an act which, obviously required diligence less I cut into the cloths. 

Do you notice what is NOT on my “missed most” list?  Answer:  My expensive sewing machine.   Now, I did miss it – sort of.  And were I at home I’d be limited, I guess, by the fact that the el-cheapo machine I purchased and used here will not sew on canvas.  But I managed just fine with this little hundred-dollar Singer. Just wish I had had a table with a cut-out for setting her down into.

So, I find it interesting that the most expensive item, by far, in my home studio is the item I missed least. And some of the far less expensive items in my home studio were the ones I missed most.  Hmmm.  I’d been thinking of investing in a second expensive machine.  Maybe now I’ll give that notion some more thought.

Okay – Below are some photos of the pieces I’ve made since I’ve been over here. 

But first! I almost forgot!  Big shout-outs to Village Fabrics in Wallingford, UK, where I traveled by bus several times to buy batting (They call it wadding.) and thread.  The folks in Village Fabrics were not only friendly and helpful, but they hooked me up with a new kind of batting that I really love – Hobbs 80/20.  I’d used Hobbs wool before, but I didn’t even realize Hobbs made this very nice 80/20.  I wound up using both the fusible and the non-fusible and found both of them mighty fine for both machine as well as hand quilting.

Okay – For real now the photos of my quilts, minus bindings (except for the first one) which I choose to do after I get home (mainly ‘cause I used up all the big pieces of my hand-dyed fabrics and am going to have to dig into my home stash to find appropriate fabrics for bindings). And, obviously, I haven't started quilting the last two.

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Geography Quilts

It all started with this quilt --

The Alabama River at Gee's Bend. Cotton canvas and denim. 75" x 45" 

For years now I have very much admired the work of the quilters of Gee's Bend, Alabama, a place only a couple hours' drive from my home in Columbus, Georgia. I've never visited Gee's Bend, though, so in anticipation of a planned trip I started looking at maps. Immediately I was struck by the shape of the Alabama River -- the curves, the path, the course of the river. And I wanted to quilt it. 

This was my first serious foray into free motion quilting, and I got into trouble fast. I hadn't properly secured the three layers -- backing, batting and top -- and not long after I began the echo quilting I'd planned, everything started to shift and creep and crawl.  I had to compensate by departing from the echos and quilting where I needed to quilt -- if that makes any sense. The result is what you see above -- quilting lines that wound up looking a lot like topographical lines, or, in my mind, furrows in plowed fields -- cotton fields. 

Intrigued now with the concept of quilting topographical lines, my next topo project was this one -- 

Singer-Moye Mounds, Stewart county, Georgia. Cotton canvas.

As the caption indicates, that's a plat of the Singer-Moye Indian mound site in Stewart County, Georgia. The lines are true topographic lines. 

Inspired by what I thought was the success of my Alabama River quilt, I began to look for good, usable images of my own "home rivers," the Chattahoochee and the Flint, which at the Florida state line join to form the Apalachicola. I've lived all of my adult life practically on the banks of the Chattahoochee. I grew up smack dab in the middle of the Chattahoochee-Flint-Apalachicola watershed. As a kid I spent many fun weekends and vacations at the camp my extended family owned on the Flint.  And after I grew up and had my own family, our vacations often took us down to Apalachicola, where the River runs into the Gulf of Mexico.  All this to say, I have a long and loving history with the Chattahoochee-Flint-Apalachicola. 

After an extensive search ("Quiltable" images of rivers are not always easy to find.), I finally found one I liked and made this -- 

Friends saw this and started to ask about buying it, so I wound up making quite a few and selling them. I made different versions -- some for throw pillows, some stretched for framing, some in other colors, sizes. I'm still making and selling these.

In my search for a good image for the Chattahoochee-Flint-Apalachicola basin, I'd run across an online site featuring images of each state's rivers. Thus began the project that would occupy me for the next couple of months -- 

And many more ... You get the idea ...

But I was still intrigued by the idea of topographical lines -- earth contour lines -- as quilting lines, and I returned to that idea. Here's the result:

Sprewell Bluff on the Flint River in central Georgia. 

And that's where my heart is right now. I want to make many more topo quilts. And I plan to. I'm on a temporary haitus from them because I'm away from my home studio and all my carefully accumulated supplies and equipment, but I look forward to resuming my topographical quilt series when I get home in late June. 

My Studio in England

Once again Columbus State University, the institution from which I retired almost six years ago now, has afforded me the opportunity to spend time in Oxford, England. I’ll be here for six months, serving as Site Director for Spencer House, CSU’s student residence in Oxford. I’ve been here in that capacity twice before, but for three months each of those other times. This will be my first six-monther in England, and I’m thrilled to be here. So is my husband, Fred Fussell, who's here with me.

One of the biggest challenges with leaving home for an extended period of time, obviously, is leaving my studio. I love my home studio, which is tricked out with supplies and equipment and tools that I’ve spent more than 50 years accumulating. It is not without some trepidation that I leave that fine space behind for six months.

During my previous two sojourns in Oxford I’ve tried to occupy myself with knitting, but knitting doesn’t do it for me. I just keep knitting and knitting and knitting, and I wind up going home with a suitcase full of eight-foot-long scarves that I don’t even like very much.  (I’m not a very good knitter, truth be told.)

Oh, I did hand-quilt a whole, big quilt the last time I was here. And I’m proud of that – but I missed piecing – the construction, from scratch, of quilt tops – a process I’ve come to love.  

My past experience, along with the fact that I’m going to be here for such a long spell this time, prompted me to give serious consideration to what I could do to kick my British quilting experience up a notch. What I decided to do was to set up a temporary, minimal studio, bringing from home the very barest of favorite tools, and adding a very few necessary ones after I got here. So that’s what I’ve been doing.  Here’s what I brought with me:

You’ll note that my thimble, lined with moleskin which you cannot see, is front and center. So is my seam ripper – not that I couldn’t get one of those over here – but it fit into the container nicely. I also included a generic walking foot and a generic darning foot, which you probably can’t discern in the photo. I did not even bring a pair of scissors.   No rotary cutter, no self-healing cutting mat. It was hard to leave those babies behind, I’m tellin’ ya!

I did find this pair of scissors in a drawer here in Spencer House, though – and they work just fine!

My next step was a sewing machine. I gave some consideration to dragging one of mine over here, but I despise having to keep up with tons of luggage, and I thought it made more sense to buy an inexpensive machine after I got here. So that’s what I did. On our second day here Fred and I found our way to a Hobbycraft store (their version, sorta, of Hobby Lobby) and bought a bottom-of-the-line beginner Singer for 79 British pounds. That’s about a hundred bucks. I’ve had very good luck with these el-cheapo Singers back home, having used one as my exclusive machine for many years, only two years ago amping up my game with a more expensive Juki. I still use my 15-year-old hundred-dollar Singer from time to time. Anyway, I bought the little Singer, walked and bussed it back here to Spencer House, set up, and got going.

Oh, you’ll note the fabrics on the table. I did bring a stash of hand-dyed fabrics from home – in my carry-on.

My hope – and my thinking behind all this, really – is that returning to my roots – returning to a simpler approach – working with the only tools my grandmother had – will be good for me. It’s taking some adjustment, but so far it’s working. I miss my rotary cutter and two big ol’ cutting mats. I miss my design wall. I miss my spray adhesive, my non-slip tabletops, my specially designed ironing surface, my set-in sewing machine tables … But I’m doing okay so far, I think.  Here’s the first piece I’ve made, very much still a work-in-progress –

This piece was inspired, in part, by a painting Fred did before we left home --

Oh, one more thing I want to say about my studio here in England – This ill-fitting moo-cow ironing board cover and I are scheduled for a parting of the ways!

Cheers!

#makedochallenge

A quilter whose work I really admire is Sherri Lynn Wood. I've never met Sherri, but I keep up with her thru her blog, daintytime.net.  

Here's one of my all-time favorite quilts in the world -- made by Sherri a few years ago --

I snagged that photo from Sherri's blog, by the way.

Sherri also leads a Facebook group called The Improv Handbook for Modern Quilters, which is also the title of a book she published, a copy of which I own.

So, suffice it to say that I'm a Sherri Lynn Wood fan.

Sherri's latest project is something she's calling #makedochallenge and giveaway. You can read all the details on her blog, but here's a brief synopsis:  Concerned about the huge, world-wide problem of textile waste, Sherri is encouraging quilters to make more quilts from discarded fabric.  That is, to recycle. Of course, quilters have been recycling for years and years and years. (Think "patchwork.") And some folks who don't know much about quilting think that's all we ever do. But they're worng. Nowadays we quilters are much more likely to run to the fabric store or the internet and invest in new fabric every time we start a new project. I know I do.  Sherri's prompt got me thinking, though, and I'm determined to try to use more recycled fabric. 

One part of Sherri's project involves our posting photos of our projects in which we've used recycled fabrics.  Here are two of mine, below, featuring men's plaid shirts I bought at Goodwill. I still have the pockets and collars and cuffs and plackets and plan on using some of those in some project or other in the future.  

"Neighborhoods," Cathy Fussell, 2015.

"Virgo," Cathy Fussell, 2015. 

THE MICHELLE OBAMA QUILT -- PART THREE -- THE EVENT

Something I've failed to mention thus far is the fact that my husband, Fred Fussell, who is an artist, a painter, was asked to produce a painting that would be used for the cover design for the printed program for the First Lady's Luncheon! The committee asked that he paint a Southern scene featuring Georgia agricultural products -- pecans, peaches, peanuts, blueberries ... He threw in cotton and pink marble, and a gazebo. I thought it turned out right lovely: 

They added a nice cut-out cover to the program so that it looked like this:

Our understanding is that the painting will be auctioned with the proceeds going to a charitable cause.

Now to the event -- Actually there were three events, or three stages to the event.  But we didn't know that until we arrived. We had been told that there would be about 1500 folks at the luncheon. We were not at all sure how or even whether we would actually get to meet the First Lady. But that was okay. We were just happy to be in attendance and to have had the opportunity to make things for her. 

As instructed, we arrived at the Washington Hilton at 10:30 AM. "We" was Fred; our daughter, Coulter; and myself. Lots of dressed up women, and a few men, were gathering there in the lobby. Some of them wore nametags with names that I recognized -- McGovern, Ryan, Kennedy, Gingrey, Lott, Reid, Pelosi (Mr. Paul, who, I gathered, is a popular and well-liked character). 

We approached a table to check ourselves in, and that's where we learned that we had tickets to a VIP pre-event reception. Boom, yeah!  At about 11:00 the doors to the VIP Reception were opened and we made our way into a room where about a hundred people gathered. Word was that Mrs. Obama would likely arrive shortly. But she didn't. As time for the big event drew near, we were told that the First Lady had been delayed by a security issue, and that she likely would not be present in time for the VIP reception.

At the very last few minutes before the big event, though, Event Chair Vivian Creighton Bishop went to the microphone and announced the names of a few people who were to go to a certain door.  Our names -- mine and Fred's -- were called! 

Is this becoming too tedious?  Hope not, 'cause we're just gettin' to the good part. Fred and I followed Mrs. Bishop's instructions and were rushed -- yes, RUSHED -- into a small backstage room where three small groups of people were already waiting.  One group was the twelve or so teenage girls, all dressed identically, who were the "Junior Hostesses" for the event. I learned that they were the daughters and granddaughters and great granddaughters of former members of Congress and government officials. One was the great granddaughter of the Honorable Thurgood Marshall! (I learned this later from the printed program.)

The second group gathered there in the little backstage room was the luncheon planning committee -- a group of about twenty lively and animated women who all seemed to know each other. 

The third group was us -- the group of eight folks, six from Columbus, Georgia, who had, at the request of the luncheon committee, brought special gifts for the First Lady. 

The three groups of us were firmly but politely put into position for three group photographs, with a spot for Mrs. Obama in each grouping. 

For about three minutes we stood there nervously awaiting her arrival. All of a sudden two Secret Service agents entered and stood on either side of the entrance, and then Mrs. Obama herself appeared in the door. She was wearing a bright orange chiffon dress and looked absolutely radiant. She went around the room, one group at a time, shaking hands with and having a few words with each person before she posed for a photo with the group.  Our group was last.

What struck me most about Mrs. Obama was her warmth and her energy, both of which she exuded in abundance. Though she only had time for a handshake and a few words with each of us, she focused on each person individually as she went down the line. She seemed to relate particularly to the teenage girls, several of whom she hugged, including B.J. Chipman in our group, who had painted a portrait of Malia and Sasha to give to Mrs. Obama.

This backstage event lasted only about ten minutes. After all the individual greetings and the three group photos, Mrs. Obama and her entourage left the room, and we rushed to our places in the grand ballroom for the main event -- the luncheon. 

As far as I was concerned, though, the main event had already occurred. I was deeply moved to have been in the presence of Michelle Obama. 

Okay -- Now to the luncheon -- About 1500 people were seated at round tables in this giant ballroom with a raised runway down the middle, an entrance area on one end and the head table on the other. Huge tv screens surrounded the room, so that if your sight line wasn't perfect for the head table, you could watch one of the monitors. Before the program started, and at intervals throughout, Fred's painting was featured on the screen -- over and over again, for everybody to see!  That was really exciting for us.

The whole Georgia delegation, of which we were a part, was seated directly in front of the head table -- down front and center!  Representative Sanford Bishop was back-to-back with me, so we chatted and shared excited reactions from time to time.  He was recording the whole thing on his iPad, and it was obvious that he was very proud of Vivian and the tremendous job she and her committee had done with the event.

I would describe the luncheon itself as a cross between a huge sorority party and a military gala -- as if I've ever attended either -- ha! 

Vivian Creighton Bishop presided and introduced a whole slew of distinguished guests, many of whom were escorted down the runway by uniformed military personnel. 

I was hoping that the gifts -- my quilt, B.J.'s portrait, a piece of Alma Thomas ceramic work given by Thomas's great-nephew Charles Lewis -- would be displayed and presented directly to the First Lady. But that was not the case. They were announced, though. And a photo of my quilt was displayed on the tv screens that surrounded the room! There it was! For about five seconds.

The other highlight of the luncheon was Mrs. Obama's speech. Within seconds of her assuming the podium she had established rapport with the audience. Her speech was indeed wonderful -- in its content, its delivery ...   By this time I was on total sensory overload and can't remember the whole speech, but I do remember that the most significant part of it, to me, was when she pointed out to all those Congressional and other governmental spouses there that "we" -- she included herself -- as spouses, are in positions that allow us, if we will,  to temper some of the contentiousness that dwells in politics today. She said it much more eloquently than I just did. 

At the conclusion of the First Lady's speech, we were treated to performances by three musicians, two of whom, at least, are Grammy Award winners and also Georgians -- Tasha Cobbs (gospel), Monica (pop), and a young man who sang and danced but whose name I did not catch. The printed program indicates that Timbaland performed, but I know what Timbaland looks like, and that was not Timbaland. At any rate, the young man was a fine performer and had us on our feet. All three of the performers were outstanding. Mrs. Obama was up there at the head table rockin' out!

The entertainment over and the audience in high gear,  Mrs. Bishop again assumed the podium, thanked her committee members, and concluded the ceremony. We were all asked to remain in our seats until Mrs. Obama was escorted from the room, which, of course, we did.

Once the ceremony was over and we were able to stand and socialize, it was obvious that we were all absolutely giddy. At least, the Georgia delegation surely was! Mrs. Obama had indeed lit up the room. What had started out as an interesting but little bit confusing "dress up party" had turned into a tremendous celebratory event of which we Georgians can be proud. 

Oh, I need to say somewhere in here that, unlike most banquets I've ever attended, the food was great! The menu featured Georgia products -- you know -- peaches, pecans, blueberries, Vidalia onions, chicken, sweet potatoes, corn ... Really good, well-prepared food. 

Okay -- I'll hush and show you a couple of photos. Our official photo has not yet arrived in the mail, and I fear that it may be lost -- but here's one that somebody took as our official photo was being shot.  I'm the shortest one in the group, in an aqua blouse. Apologies for that pinched expression on my face. I don't know what was up with that. And my hair -- well, I don't know what happened with that, either. 

L-R: Florene Dawkins, Fred Fussell, Cathy Fussell, Charles Lewis (Alma Thomas's great-nephew), First Lady Michelle Obama, B.J. Chipman. The three folks to the right of B.J. are her grandmother, her mother, and Frank Mastoris.

Oh, and here's a photo of the letter we received, a week after the event, from none other than First Lady Michelle Obama!

THE MICHELLE OBAMA QUILT -- Part Two

I told you I'd be back with more details about the process of making this quilt whose "real name" is "Apollo Revisited: Homage to Alma Woodsey Thomas." 

First, I'm very grateful to Florene Dawkins and Vivian Creighton Bishop for contacting me early enough so that I had plenty of time to experiment, think, experiment some more ... Florene first contacted me in June of 2015, and the event wasn't to be held until May of 2016, so I had almost a year to produce the quilt. 

Second, I very much appreciate Florene and Vivian's giving me free rein to make whatever I wanted, so long as it was "inspired by the work of Alma Thomas." I understood that if the quilt were eventually gifted to the First Lady it would first have to have approval from them and their committee, of course, but they were very generous in their trust of me, and that trust was most helpful to my creative process.

I'm not much of a procrastinator, so I got started right away.  First, of course, I took a very close look at Alma Thomas's body of work.  So much good stuff!  

I was particularly drawn to Thomas's circular pieces, in part, I think, because I knew that Michelle Obama must like them, her having chosen this one, "Resurrection," for the White House Dining Room: 

Photo from ARTNEWS.

Isn't that beautiful?  Google "Alma Thomas and White House" and you'll find more images of it. I think it's perfect for that spot. 

My first thought was to replicate that very painting, "Resurrection," in fabric. But as I continued to study Thomas's work, I was more drawn to this one -- "Apollo Splashdown, 1970" --

Photo from MutualArts.com.

My attraction to this painting, and my interest in replicating it in fabric, had a lot to do with the fact that it features so much blue -- so many blues. I love blue, and I also thought that I might be able to use a good deal of denim, which for a number of reasons I love to use. One of those reasons is the fact that Columbus has, over the past 150 or so years, produced a great percentage of the world's denim. A second reason has to do with the fact that I now live and work in a loft apartment inside the building that once housed the mill that produced that denim -- Swift Manufacturing Company. 

I experimented with a small piece that I made into a pillow:

While I liked the pillow fine, I thought that the tone, the value, of the denim wasn't as "bright" as what an Alma Thomas-inspired piece called for.  Denim has a white thread in it, you know, and Thomas's colors are true and clear and bright. 

So I ditched the denim idea and went with cotton duck, which comes in an array of full, bright colors.  

Maybe I should back up and say that at first I experimented with "regular quilt fabrics," what we call Kona weight cottons. But they would have required precise piecing or applique, with clean, turned-under edges, and I thought that the canvas duck, with its  strength and raw edges, better replicated Thomas's brush strokes.

Okay -- Now I'm gonna hush and just let you look at some photos of me at work.  Except let me tell you one more thing -- Each and every piece of that canvas was individually cut out by me -- carefully, thoughtfully, with scissors -- and then, using a darning foot, sewn down to the canvas twice around.  (After all, I didn't want Michelle Obama's quilt to fall apart!) That took a while, and some wrangling. I needed an intern to stand on the other side of the machine and help me wrangle. Fred did actually help with that a few times.

After I got all the "dots" sewn down (I did, literally, see them in my sleep!), I sandwiched the thing -- That is, I layered the completed top with a layer of batting (wool) and a backing -- and I started machine quilting -- in circles, 'round and 'round.  I hand-quilted the center, though.  Hand-quilting is really my thing, and while the canvas and duck were much too heavy and thick for hand-quilting the whole quilt, I did want to include a bit of hand-quilting -- so there it is in the center.  

Finally, I bound the edges, added a label and hanging sleeve, and the finished quilt was ready to be submitted to committee. The date was July 31.  I had spent two weeks in June experimenting, but by the first of July I had decided my materials and method and had begun work. I worked every day during the month of July -- four weeks -- several hours each day -- to complete the work. It was a labor of love.

My thinking was that if the committee didn't like the quilt I'd made, I had plenty of time to make another -- or another -- or another ... But they liked the first one, and it was eventually shipped to Washington for the event.

So now I really am gonna shut up and show you some photos:

Obviously, I didn't "primp" for the photos -- ha! I'm in work mode.

I worked from a glossy photo of Alma Thomas's painting, pictured in foreground. 

The thing grew and grew ...

"Apollo Revisited: Homage to Alma Woodsey Thomas" by Cathy Fussell.

THE MICHELLE OBAMA QUILT, Part One

One of the reasons I haven't been blogging lately is that I have a theory that every minute I spend blogging I'm not quilting. But the other reason is that I had a secret I couldn't share yet -- and that was that I had been asked to make a quilt for First Lady Michelle Obama!  Yes, you read that right.  Here's the story:

It all started in 1891, with the birth here in my town of Columbus, Georgia, of one Alma Thomas. If you read that link you'll learn that Alma grew up to become a well-known artist -- so well-known, in fact, that -- fast forward many years -- she came to be a favorite of First Lady Michelle Obama, who has added three Alma Thomas paintings to the White House collection.  One hangs in the White House dining room.  Here's a photo of it here.   I so love it!

Fast forward another little while and I come into the picture when I was asked, by Vivian Creighton Bishop, the wife of our U.S. Representative Sanford Bishop, to make an Alma Thomas-inspired quilt to be presented to the First Lady at the 2016 Congressional Club First Lady's Luncheon, of which Mrs. Bishop was chair.

So I did.  The event took place on May 12, 2016. 

To say I was honored to be able to do this is an understatement of enormous proportion. I only hope that the First Lady likes the quilt, and that I have done honor to Alma Thomas and to our town of Columbus, Georgia. 

Here's a photo of the finished quilt, before it got shipped off to Washington: 

Specifically inspired by Alma Thomas's painting titled "Apollo Splashdown 1970," I named this quilt "Apollo Revisited: Homage to Alma Woodsey Thomas." 

I owe tremendous thanks to my friend Florene Dawkins, who knew my quilting and who knew of my long-time interest in the work of Alma Thomas, and who suggested to Mrs. Bishop that I be asked to make the quilt.

In a later post I'll write about my process and about the decisions that went into designing and making the quilt.

Oh, and when the official photos of me with the First Lady arrive, I'll post those, too. 

Home From Mississippi

Returned home a few days ago from having taught the second and final session of our Rail Fence Workshop at YaloRun out in Water Valley, Mississippi. Boy, what some great students I was lucky enough to have had! I'll let their work demonstrate:

First-time quilter Susan Blackmon Watson with her terrific creation!

Christy Cox White's creation -- a work of art!

A born quilter right here ...

I myself can no longer plop down on the floor to work, but some folks can!  Thank goodness we had plenty of chairs available for some of us -- ha!

Unfortunately, we failed to get photos of all seven quilt tops. We eventually will, though. The plan here is that they spent class time choosing fabrics, designing, piecing, sandwiching, and taking the first few quilting stitches. Now they're on their own to quilt. I gave a demonstration of how to apply binding, and we encouraged everybody to come back to the studio for some Coulter-help if they need it.  We're planning on having a reunion, with lots of photos, when everybody's finished. At the rate they're going, that won't be too long in the future!

Michelle brought in her completed quilt from the first workshop I taught at YaloRun, back in the fall. The subject for that workshop was my Relaxed Tumbler pattern. Michelle rocked it! 

"Every Which Way ...

... But Loose" is what I'm calling this top I just finished piecing --

Made from re-purposed plaid shirts I bought at Goodwill, this top is composed of 4-inch squares, 6-inch squares, 8-inch squares, 10-inch squares, and 12-inch squares. Each square is fine-line pieced using the method devised by Kathleen Loomis, an art quilter whose work I very much admire.  Here are her instructions for fine-line piecing, which I adapted a little bit. 

My plans are to machine-quilt this top, in moderately dense straight horizontal lines -- but I might decide to add a border first.  What do you think?  Should I add a border?  If so, what color? How wide? 

If the weather allows, I'll leave tomorrow to drive out to daughter Coulter's YaloRUN Textile Studio in Water Valley, Mississippi, to teach the second half of a beginner Rail Fence quilt workshop. I look forward to seeing what the seven students have produced. A few of them have posted some fine sneak peeks on Facebook. I can't wait to see all of them!  Check back in a few days for photos and a report.