Details, details, Part One



Detail of my Sgt. Pepper-esque
Jacket for Peter B. Lewis

 By nature, I am oriented to details. I have found this to be an odd quirk of my otherwise creatively driven personality. Some of my artist friends don't seem to have this side to their personalities, and it only seems to apply to many artists when it comes to their work. For me, I inherently pay attention to the details. It doesn't matter what I am doing. Planning a garden? Learn every name of every plant. Measure the amount of sunlight in every area of the yard at each time of the day. Do this for a week. In each season of the year. Writing a book? Interview every person in the field who was alive at that time. Read every issue of Quilter's Newsletter Magazine from its inception, (and make detailed notes by subject) so you can have the proper questions prepared for your interview subjects. You get the idea. I'm not what is fondly called these days, "anal"; I'm just thorough, and obsessively so. It's just the way my mind works.

When I am creating a new art piece, after the thrill of creating the actual composition has passed, I love the layered stitching and embellishment part of my process the best. 

Recycled tags for my TagTalk cards wait to be taken to my downstairs sewing spot. On the right, a four drawer catcher for fabric scraps takes the overflow from my wire fabric storage. Knits and flannels are at the ready under my pinning wall, while a holiday order waits to be ironed at my mini ironing station.

You can see this on my Masks III, below.



When it comes to construction by stitching, my love of details transfers easily from creating my artwork to my designing my Magic Baby line of clothing. You would never know I am focused on the details, however, by looking at my studio at the moment:



On my sewing table, various "piles" wait their turn.
The embroidered black velvet is up next.



Here, a snowflake swing dress waits for its binding,
while a design experiment sits underneath until
I have more time.



My studio only looks like a mess. Since I have little space, I make piles, then work my way through them each week.