36 Quilts in 12 Months

Grandma D...

I don't talk about her much. She was always indifferent to me growing up. She had a magnet on her refrigerator that said, "I'm not overweight, I'm under tall." However, she served an incredible purpose in my life. Still trying to figure out how her hair was white. I suppose if I was to make her a quilt - it would be white with sprinkles of silver. What's crazy... is she loved silver - but somehow thought gold was better. 

It is on all year long. When my Christmas Tree is no longer shining - I might as well not shine. 

The stories of my Grandma D., are actually priceless. Her way in this world was not anything that I am. She had a sense of vanity that I never understood. It doesn't much matter - I loved her. She found art in things that most people would of never understood. Look at that frame - look at it. The ridiculous jewelry. The lights. Did I mention how much she loved Jello? 

Yes, I was never the Granddaughter she would of wanted. Well, maybe she was not my ideal Grandma, but she was mine. 

What happens now is she has inspired me. With GOLD. What the what?!

The yellow tones, the greens, the browns, merely that fact that Jesus is back where he belongs. 

Another one of my many blessings and findings in going to antique malls... I found Jesus, not only in a gold frame - but with a light.

For my Grandma - I will design a quilt made with GOLD... and sparkly things (so not my thing) Truth is, she matters. 

DO NOTE - I'VE GOT SOME SERVICE-TALENTED SALAD TONGS!!!!! Jealous much?! 

What's even better, I have this...

Traci,

In 1942 my mother, Dad, Dolores, Rex and I drove to Cleveland, Ohio to see Uncle Raymond (in the Navy) and Aunt Hazel.

On the way over Dolores and I saw a gift shop where we wanted to stop but Dad wouldn't stop. On the way home we watched for the shop and we did stop!

Rex bought this frog and gave it to his mother. After we were married she gave it back. Rex kept this down at work and when he cleaned out his things he brought it home. 

This frog is at least 55 years old so take good care of him.

Love,

Grandma

Guess what kids, I take very good care of him. No worries Grandma. I got this!

As always, 

Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper

Lack of Perception...

Miss Carol, Carol, meanie pants... I don't remember that much about her. She had dark hair, pixie cut - what I do remember is I was 18 and was told I was not capable of being an artist - because I had lack of perception. I'm sorry - how much did my parents pay for you to tell me that I wasn't good enough, that I lacked depth. Is this what happens to women as we get older - we get angry, old and mean?

Again, I'm sorry - I'm not going to waste my time painting a piece of fruit or a square - I'm going to create what I want to create, when I want to. 

Always have, always will. I was in 5th grade not knowing what life was really about. What it had in store for me. To me at that time it was colorful. There was no end to it. It was beautiful. When we needed to be in the house before the street lights went off. Where my sister and my brothers would sit at the table have a home made meal. When my Dad sat at the head of the table and my Mom at the other end, where human Todd and I would glare at each other in despair as if we were going to just hop over the table and attack each other. Crazy thing is - God has an interesting way of teaching us lessons. My niece, just like me. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA - sorry human Todd, karma? paybacks? Or maybe, just maybe - the proof, that God does exist. 

Did you know there are COLORS OF KINDNESS? And even better, you can find them at the grocery store.

24 colors of KINDNESS! 24!!!!! If only people could be kind like a box of crayons. 

It's interesting what can happen when you finally accept who you are. That you can feel the beat, when you stop being embarrassed, when you start listening to the words and start feeling them. All the while knowing maybe your art professor in Drawing 101 at Iowa State University was right - you're not an artist because you lack perception. 

But wait! Is there perception in this art? Or precision?

The left piece is Sharon Lewis I believe Acoma and the right is D.Lewis-Garcia Acoma. 

That my love is not only art - it's patience, which I'm terrible at. 

So, what happens now?

I continue to be the artist I was created to be - no perception, with no precision. Just me. 

Always listen - to the beat, to the words - to the music. 

As always, 

Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper

The GO TO COLOR - or lack of...

Meet one of my many boys... Ethan...

Yes, I love my nephews more than life itself. I skipped ahead, I still have Oliver and Caleb's to do - I will get them done. My heart is heavy with my boy Ethan. Guess what - the go to color, or lack of, is gray, it's between black and white, so in a CMYK break down this one is 12.5% K. I suppose we all have a go to. Mine is gray. Ask Google or Siri the difference between gray and grey. To me it has a shimmer of silver. It's perfectly perfect. 

I don't want to go to dark, just a small show of depth. Almost white, but not. It's the creamsicle color I want to POP! I LOVE that fact that my boy loves orange! Think of all the great things that are orange! The sunset, a juicy piece of fruit, caution signs, my scissors, my favorite pot - it's a color that often gets ignored. Not my boy Ethan - at 14 he sees something great in the color orange. 

This quilt will be 20 9 patches across, 21 9 patches down. 420 9 patches, 3,780 pieces sewn down to 3/4". Not including the gray patches in between. Haven't gotten there yet - but this one is going to be awesome. A nine patch with a kick of a sunset. 

And of course, a shimmer of silver. 

As always, 

Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper

Where the Sidewalk Ends...

Where could it possibly end? Wait, it ends because of a road. You stop and stare and calculate. "Where exactly am I going?, is it necessary? does it serve a purpose?" Suddenly your train of thought becomes uncalculated... you become a pawn, your life, your existence is on a chess board. Hold please - I need milk and eggs. That's where I was going. Do I really need milk and eggs? 

I not only read the Bible, C.S. Lewis and Billy Graham - I also read Shel Silverstein. He was amazing. His use of words were incredible. He had the ability to teach through poetry. Not only that, his artwork was simple, probably not to him - I'm sure every drawing had a story. He died of a heart attack at 66. So maybe, THE SIDEWALK DOES END. 

"I'M MAKING A LIST

I'm making a list of the things I must say for politeness,

And goodness and kindness and gentleness, sweetness and rightness:

Hello

Pardon me

How are you?

Excuse me

Bless you

May I?

Thank you

Goodbye

If you know some that I've forgot, please stick them in your eye."

-Shel Silverstein, page 37 - Where the Sidewalk Ends

An artist, a poet, a writer that I absolutely LOVE. 

Where exactly does the Sidewalk End? You tell me. 

As always, 

Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper

I know nothing...

I'm not smart. Most of the time I'm angry because I can't change the things in this world that I want to change. Everyday my skin gets thicker, my shoulders more broad, my heart more callus. I resort to music, focus on laughter, all the while realizing that I trust no one. Who can you possibly trust?

Doctors? NO!

Lawyers? Absolutely NOT!

Therapists? HAHAHAHAHA!

Somehow, someway still end up on my feet. Always seeing the best in people. Because the truth is, we are all in this together. 

I didn't make the choice to be born. Someone far greater and way more powerful made that choice. I suppose I should trust HIM. And I do - but I will never force my faith on anyone. That is not my job. All I can do is show love. Sadly, I have no trust - and that will never change. Too many people have played me. Family included. Perhaps that is why I love sewing small pieces of fabric into blocks... which in turn makes a quilt.

I am a piece maker with two amazing dogs and a true heart. I got this. 

Watch me at least try and be the change I want to see in the world. Perhaps we can all try it, with honesty and integrity - with no ill intent, no expectations, just pure love. Game on.

As always, 

Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper

I Dream of Jeannie...

I wake up everyday in an episode of I Dream of Jeanie. 

Never much realized the impact or appreciation for the Mid Modern Era, however, I can always learn. The day I stop learning, researching, I suppose that will be the day God is done with me. 

There is an incredible art to it and with all art it always has a story. Truthfully, never been much for these colors, however they are inspiring me. Somehow, someway - in my mind - history met history. 

Or did history learn from history? Or did we learn to adapt? I would love to believe that we grew with time. That we learned something. Did we?

I calculate stitches. I count everything. I notice fonts, color - actually at one point I could give you the CMYK, RGB break down and the Pantone Color. Noticing things in life is not only a blessing it also can be a curse. 

Mid Modern meets hand quilting, which in turn meets machine quilting, which means maybe we all can get along?

Cold and windy here today... no dog park so my boys are not so happy. They'll get cuddles and snuggles after I sew for at least 8 hours. 

As always, Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper

CROSSING THE BAR... Tennyson

I truly desire to find beauty in everything... but truth be told, not much of it makes sense. In my opinion, if we try hard enough, exert enough love, energy, hope and faith we can not only see it, we in turn can live it. 

It took most of my life to accept that I am an artist, that I see things differently. I found this calendar from 1912 - absolutely amazing. It's 110 years old. It is copyrighted 1910 by Barse & Hopkins. 

We can first start with the tassels. 

Then we can look at the script.

Which was all done with pen and paper. 

CROSSING THE BAR

"Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, when I put it out to sea, but such a tide as moving seems asleep, too full for sound and foam, when that which drew from out of the boundless deep turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell, and after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell. 

When I embark; For tho' from out our Bourne of Time and Place - The flood may bear me far, I Ihope to see my Pilot face to face. When I have crossed the bar."

Tennyson

There is SO much to learn and absorb in the short time we have here. SO much to read, SO much to listen to, SO much to love, SO much beyond our comprehension. 

The choice is simple - we either choose to live, laugh and love with no exception and expectations or we become a drop out, we quit. Well guess what? I'm not quitting. 

As always, 

Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper

Washed by the WATER...

There is so much to talk about... so much to think about, so much to try and fix - I suppose that's why I LOVE water. Some days you can find me only in the bathtub. When nothing makes sense, when nothing calculates, when your heart is so broke - you can always be washed by the water. 

Needtobreathe

"Even when the rain falls
Even when the flood starts rising
Even when the storm comes
I am washed by the water"

So today I have put down the needle and thread, took a bath and found a new therapy. Today I've chosen to color...

It's not done yet - I don't have the shades of brown I need, could go into my pen and pencil drawer - just kind of liking markers right now. 

Always find color in everything you do, it serves a great purpose. 

We will get back to quilts soon, but as always...

Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper. 

Suppose we'll talk about my Dad today...

I threw away most of my pictures, it just so happens that is what you do when we go through a transition. When you've been lied to, cheated on, stolen from - my Mom gave this picture back to me and it's one of my favorites. 

Question is, why? Very few pictures are in their home of me. It's your typical black sheep story. Not my fault, I am who I am and I'm OK with that. 

The story of my Dad. He is my real life Billy Graham, he is my real life Jesus. Although he is not a reader of C.S. Lewis - he is my C.S. Lewis as well. I've boughten him several C.S. Lewis books and he says he just doesn't comprehend him. I told him this, "Walk around your block 7 times and you will notice something different every time. It might be as simple as a dandelion that you didn't notice the first time - or a dog that wasn't there before, a leaf, a blade of grass, a person, that's how C.S. Lewis wrote... in circles, circles that eventually made sense."

He is amazing. Engineer, over calculated (perhaps one of the only traits I got from him), he's not much of a fan of my quilting, too bad Dad, I'm a piece maker and yes I will always sew - needle and thread. 

As always, as long as God allows...

Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper.

 

There is still beauty in the world.

Suppose we need to find it, that's not that big of a deal... so what, we just look. Take a little time to seek and find. I've found my beauty, my passion, my ultimate love - quilting. I've been blessed to know people who have the same passion. Needle and thread. 

Awesome day yesterday! Picked up my nephew's graduation quilt... OH MY GOSH! I CRIED! SERIOUSLY CRIED!

I had dreams (maybe nightmares) over the negative space - but per usual, my quilter absolutely did it. I texted her this morning and said she completes my madness. 

There is beauty in the world, in every stitch, in every piece - in everyone. 

I suppose it is our choice to find beauty. I find it in quilts, always have, always will. 

I have no legacy. I'll out live my dogs, my parents, but I won't outlive my quilts. Perhaps that will be my legacy. 

This one is for Alex - my most colorful nephew. Yes, I do love him the mostest French Toastest. However, there are terms and conditions to these quilts - they don't go to college, my nephews and nieces do. A beer stain (don't even want to think about what else) - oh NO! OH NO!

Boys are decent, tired of the cold, I think we all are. 

As always, 

Traci(ee), Tod and Cooper.