I’ve been thinking about thoughts. William and May Morris believed that Berlin Woolwork was a scourge on embroidery. Berlin woolwork, for those of you who don’t know the details was worked in very fine wool (often equivalent to 2-3 strands of our cotton floss in thickness), and was counted from a chart onto lightweight canvas in cross stitch. It often reproduced a piece of famous artwork, or just pretty pictures. Uh oh. This sounds familiar.  Could it be that this was just Counted Cross Stitch in wool? (Yup, it could. It is. It was.)

William and May Morris wanted to bring back what they considered the higher craft of “real” needlework. Crewel stitches. Design decisions on the part of the embroiderer. Silk threads. Embroidery that looked like stitch work and didn’t “just” reproduce a picture in pixel mosaic.

Now I’m not going to speak or type against counted cross stitch – I design the stuff, after all!  However, I was thinking about the book I gave away a couple years ago… “Art of William Morris In Counted Cross Stitch”. And then I got thinking about the cross stitch woolwork “reproductions” of Morris designs that are found as kits in the needlepoint shop (Beth Russell?)… and my thought?

I think William Morris is rolling around in his grave in despair.

And I’m laughing. Because embroidery techniques rise and fall in popularity. And while counted cross stitch has been very popular over the years since the 80s (partially because it really IS easy as these things go…) the freestyle embroidery stitches are coming back. Look on Craftster at some of the finished projects. Look at the popularity of Sublime Stitching. Look at the wonderful embroidery on the Ning groups: Hand Embroidery Network and Stitchin Fingers. These are good things. And we’re richer for the variety.

Try new things. Be a stitching dilettante!

I’d also probably do it in silk or metal thread work rather than wools, but that wasn’t the point of this exercise!

I AM pretty happy with the stitching, however. As usual, click to enlarge.

What I don’t think I’ve mentioned is that this piece of fabric is a piece of IL019 linen from Fabric-Store.com in white. I rather like it. It’s a medium-weight linen that I’d be happy to use for shirts. I also like their heavier-weight  linens for skirts and things like the great Shower Curtain project. Which fell off the radar this year, but I intend to transfer to the fabric in January. It’s not high on the priority list, because the bathroom it’s intended for low on the renovation list in the house. I should really be doing the work for the upstairs guest bathroom instead, but it’s not as interesting to me at the moment… maybe I need to rethink the design and technique for that one…

Click for a closer view!

This sampler really IS a sampler in the true sense of the word. It’s a place where I play – I don’t worry too much if my stitching is perfect, though I work to improve it. I don’t worry if the colors end up “going,” even failures have something to tell me, and the fact that they are stitched there for posterity reminds me of why not to do things that way again! This isn’t going to end up on a wall, it’s not going to end up in a gallery (at least not in my lifetime), but hopefully I’ll learn something good in the meantime, and later people can learn something from my fun and games. It *does* go to classes I teach with me.

The first motif on this piece of fabric is an Art Nouveau border from one of the Dover books. I worked it in Vineyard Silks Merino thread. I really like the threads from this company. The merino is soft and nice to work with, and the Vineyard Silk Classics are amazing (more on them later). The merino was designed for needlepoint – I think on 14 count canvas, so it is pretty thick to be working on motifs this small. I might use it again for a larger design that needed to be filled quickly. It’s got a nice hand, and a nice sheen when completed.

And I like my color choices here- the alternating pink/turquoise gives a little variety while still keeping a unified theme. This is a border pattern that I could see stitching around the hem of a skirt for spring or summer… but in a different thread, or in a bigger size.  We’ll see if I actually DO something like that with it!

As I recall, the motifs are about 2 1/2 inches tall (I’ve re-framed the work, so I can’t go measure it. I’ll try to remember to do it and edit this when I unlace it to move to a new motif!).

An unblocked floursack towel that is now in use... and never ironed any more!

I was blocked when I started writing this. No clue where to go with it. It probably shows.

Although blocking is an important part of all needlework, it’s rarely talked about. Every lace knitter knows the magic that happens when you take a mess of a knit wool shawl, wet it and pin it out to dry, stretching tightly. You go from something that looks like a tangled mass of string to an amazing piece of art!

Embroidery gains from washing and blocking, too. When you’re stitching, fabric can get wrinkled and maybe a little grimy, even if you do work with clean hands (eating chocolate while stitching is a bad habit. This is not to say I don’t do it, but chocolate isn’t the easiest thing to get out of linen, especially if you’re stitching with thread that will bleed if washed.)

Anyway. Gently washing your embroidery, gently squeezing the extra water out between two towels (PLEASE don’t wring) and then pinning it out to dry, stretching it on a board to the correct size and shape, does wonders for the crispness of the final product, especially if you’ve been stitching with silk thread.

I’ve also been known to iron my work dry from the back, stretching it into shape as I go, but only if it’s cotton or linen on cotton or linen (or maybe a blend with some polyester or rayon in it).

Of course, on that last point, I also use my hand-embroidered tea towels and flour sack towels as dishtowels, and just toss them into the washer and dryer when they get dirty. If this use was good enough for my grandmother (and it was), it’s good enough for me…

and I don’t have enough people in my life who both appreciate my handwork and are willing to use/wear it. If I want to keep stitching, I need to use what I stitch and knit so it wears out and I need more!

Point? Did I have a point today? Oh. Learn to block your work. Know your materials, and don’t be afraid to put your work (using washable threads and fabric!) on things to use and then use them. You DO like stitching more stuff, don’t you?

The artist is Cayce Zavaglia, and her work is amazing.

I’m going back to nursing an ear infection now.

New Elmow on Wednesday!

Runner spread on my art table

Back months ago, when I bought the Society Silk Needlework piece at the local antiques shop, I also found another that I didn’t’ think I could justify buying. The EO had other ideas and we went back for it the next day.

I would really love some help in identification. It’s an interesting piece. I suspect it came from the same estate as the society silk, as the woman said the house had many many needlework pieces, most of which had been purchased on the owner’s travels through her life.

I’ve been through all my references, and although I can find similarities to this piece in many different locations, I can’t find enough that I can confidently say “this came from this area” or even “this was inspired by this area’s work…” I want to say Pakistan, Afghanistan, somewhere in that area… shisha mirrors, heavy flat silk on orange (faded) cotton…

Any ideas? Documentation sources you want to recommend?

In any case, it’s another very interesting, unique and striking piece, and I’m glad to have it in my slowly growing collection.

Closeups follow:

I am in awe.

Embroidery on REAL eggs!

I’ll be back again with a real post later this week.

But WOW!

This is the first in a random and un-organized list of stitching terms that I think people should know. These are just the first things that come to mind when I think of needlework terms today. Tomorrow there may be something completely different!

Beading - Oooh there’s a can of worms. Stitchers and knitters go not near the bead store for you know not what temptations await you there. Oh, ok. I’m an enabler. Shiny little things, beads can be added to knitting, crochet, embroidery, sewing, macrame, tatting or what have you and all be called “beading.” And guess what? You can perform the act of “beading” all by itself with some wire and a pair of pliers. Defining beading is like defining “embroidery”.

Batting - the cotton or wool or polyester filling used between quilt layers. Originally, the etymology comes from the word “batt,” which is the name for the carded fiber mass that is the step before spinning into yarn.

Calico - In the USA, a cotton fabric often used for quilting. It is usually printed with a design, and traditionally this is a small print, often floral. In the UK, for calico, see Muslin.

Crochet - making fabric with one hook and a thread (can be thin for lace doilies or thick for afghans or something in between). Uses lots of thread, and is faster than knitting although often mistaken for knitting by random people on the street. (I’ve also had people see me cross stitching and ask me what I’m knitting, but that’s a bit extreme…)

Counted Cross Stitch - Using the cross stitch and a pattern to create pretty pictures. In many ways it’s similar to the Berlin woolwork of the 1800s, but now days is usually done using cotton floss on linen or other evenweave fabric.

Embroidery - Any surface embellishment created with a needle and thread. For example, all counted cross stitch is embroidery, but all embroidery is not counted cross stitch!

Frogging - Ripping out, whether embroidery, a seam, knitting, or what have you.

Knitting - the making of fabric with two or more sticks and one strand of yarn. Usually uses less yarn than crochet, is slower, and is often mistaken for crochet by random people when doing it on the bus.

Muslin - a 100% cotton fabric either natural or unbleached in color. It’s a plain tabby weave, and can be sturdy or less sturdy, often depending on the price you pay for it. It’s used as a ground for crazy quilting, as an inexpensive way to test out sewing patterns, and many other uses. In the Victorian era, muslin was available that was fine enough for high-end clothing.

Muslim - A follower of Islam. I include this because the misuse of this term instead of muslin is one of my pet peeves. I know they’re similar, but people, if you try to stitch a crazy quilt patch onto any of my Muslim friends, you are going to get at least an earful about sticking people with needles and pins.

Needlepoint - Know who you’re talking to when you use this one! To a “normal” person these days, the word needlepoint brings up thoughts of that tent or half-cross stitch wool on canvas monstrosity that Grandma made in the seventies.  To an historical reenactor, it might very well mean very delicate lace made with a needle and thread instead of knitting needles or bobbins on a pillow! But if you go into a store specializing in needlework you will find many many wonderful designs stitched on canvas, and many ways to stitch them. (Even though I rarely do needlepoint, I haunt needlepoint stores for really neat fibers to use in my other embroidery styles!)

TINKing - Knitting backwards. (Ripping out one stitch at a time.)

Wadding - UK terminology for batting.

Lucinda in the Rose Garden - the first design I created

I have a confession. It may seem strange coming from a cross stitch designer, but while I really love designing cross stitch, as I get older, I’m finding myself stitching less and less of it. This isn’t to say that I don’t still love it. In fact, last week I found myself very pleased with the meditative qualities I remembered while stitching a new pillow design (and boy did I need those meditative qualities at the time!)

For me, counted cross stitch was a gateway drug. It was the thing that got me beyond the hatred of that stamped cross and stem stitch sampler I started when I was six and only finished at 12 because I wanted to learn crewel, and my mother insisted that I finish EVERY project before starting another one (even if even SHE couldn’t figure out the instructions for the turkeywork stitch on that second crewel piece I tried…).

I taught myself counted cross stitch in the mid-80s for two reasons. One, I couldn’t find a crewel kit on the shelves to save my life. And second, I still had a bit of trepidation about starting a new crewel pattern when I hadn’t finished that first one.

My first cross stitch project was a little 18th century man with a no-smoking sign. I was hooked. My second… Theresa Wentzler’s Fantasy sampler. (And just to make Mom roll over in her grave, I’ll admit here and now that I STILL haven’t’ finished the thing, even though I love it and  want it on my wall.) People have told me that I didn’t finish it because it was too complicated for a first project. If that were the case I would have gone back to it, knuckled down and finished it later. No, I didn’t finish it because it still makes my eyes cross with all those blended threads! I’ve learned a lot about design from those projects that I haven’t finished, and I went on to start my own line… which kind of sidetracked me from stitching other people’s designs. The image above is of the very first design I ever created myself, with a link to the pattern purchase page. I’m about to send her companion, Talieson in the Rose Garden off to my model stitcher! Finally.

There are still three pieces by other people in my workbox: That Fantasy Sampler, Ink Circles Cirque des Cercles, and Indigo Rose’s Millennium Sampler, which is now hard to find. (There are more in the UFO box… But I’ll rotate those in later.) I do take a few stitches on them once in a while, which means that they will get finished at some point… but it’s not going to be soon.

And you can expect more than cross stitch from Golden Circle in the coming months/years.  Now, back to stitching that newest cross stitch model of mine…! (psst – it’s another pillow!)

Past Art Montage

I have, in the past, called myself a needlework dilettante (or a craft dilettante, but I always seem to put them back into my stitching, or my stitching into my other crafts…)  But recently I have begun looking at this as less of a detriment and more of a benefit to myself and my growth as an artist.

I was listening to a program on NPR last week and a historian stated about a past scientist that made great inroads into Astronomy, and who happened to be an insurance man in his day job, that “back then you could be more than just a scientist – you didn’t need to specialize like you do now.”  I found myself taking issue with that statement, both in science, and in other lifetime pursuits (like my needlework).

In science, many many discoveries have been made by so-called “amateurs,” even recently. (Note the elementary school students who did original research on bees and were published in the Royal Society Journal). Of course, the scholarly world of academia tends to frown on this – as they also tend to dislike anything that is written in a way that normal people can understand. <sigh>

But that’s actually not my point in this rambling post! My point is that experimenting with your needlework styles — trying out different types of embroidery and then trying to combine them into work of your own, is the best way to truly take your work to the next level. And mine, too.  If you do mostly cross stitch, try a small redwork piece. If you do mostly historic reproductions, try adapting one in a modern style. Try out new things, new types of needlework. I’ve realized that that’s been my goal ever since I started REALLY stitching way back when I was 12! And I’m going to take it even further this year. And to share my voyages. First stop – crewelwork shower curtain!  (With a pause to finish the pseudo-ivory work flower I’ve been working on!)