My new website was looking pretty good. Until it wasn’t. In trying to finesse a few things with some custom code (of which I know next to nothing), I may have lost a bunch of work that I’ve been doing over the last month. This whole process has become a two steps forward, one step back kind of thing. Sometimes, like last night it’s one step forward, two steps back. Oh, and yes, I’m kicking myself for not having backed up as I went.

But, all this frustration with building what I want (design habits die hard, even though my inner code monkey knows I can’t handle it) makes me wonder why I bother at all. Do I really NEED a website? Sure, it’s nice to see my work all together in neatly packaged online galleries, but are there that many people who want to take a gander? I use tags in my blog posts, so one could pull up work just by using the lovely search button in my blog sidebar.

Websites are great for my friends and peers who have services to offer like classes and books and kits and things. You need a place where readers can easily find those things and sign up or order or check prices and availability. But I don’t really do workshops, and my work isn’t the kind that anyone says, “ooh, I want to learn how to make that!” nor does it lend itself to kits or technique tutorials.

My current website no longer reflects where I am, and I’ve been wanting to update it for over a year. My new website is driving me nuts trying to get what’s in my head out on screen. So, in an effort to have some closure, and get back to the actual artmaking, I’m wondering why I shouldn’t just remove the website aspect, choose an acceptable WordPress Theme for my blog, plug in my pretty new header, and move on with life? Or delete it all and just have a Facebook fan page?

I want to update my website. I can no longer access it to add new photos to the gallery and as long as I was going to go in and fiddle about to fix that, I figured I might as well fiddle with the whole thing. I’m not much of a programmer though. I did some research and found out that the Headway theme for WordPress combines the ease of blogging with the flexibility of web building and should provide me with just the right amount of design freedom without totally geeking out.

It ends up though, that most of this simplified stuff just goes right through me. I can read the tutorial and make something happen, but when I return to my work the next day nothing has stuck in my brain and I have to read all over again. Also, the framework I had sketched out won’t work. I was hoping to have cool roots dangle down in between mine main copy and my sidebar. Headway and WordPress don’t like to be organized in vertical columns though. They prefer horizontal rows.

So I adjusted my header to be more horizontal. Even then, it took up too much space. I really wanted my navigation bar to nestle in under the header. So I removed the roots. Now it was looking pretty good, but when I added the cool “slideshow” to highlight some of my favorite work, it competed visually with my embroidered header. OK, change to a sepia tone header. Better. Not enough though. So I got rid of the house altogether. I think I have a header I like now, but it’s been Photoshopped to death to get to this point.

I’ve avoided the project like the plague for a few weeks and if I’m honest with myself it’s because I really need to go back and stitch up a new header so it’s not all Photoshoppy. Also, I know that once I get that sorted out, I’ll have to go back to square one with the tutorials to build all the pages I want since I just can’t seem to wrap my head around how this all works. And that head-wrapping is worthy of more procrastination. I need to get it done though because my site is woefully out of date and I really need to show off my Army Wife Series as it grows and as part of where I want it to go in the foreseeable future.

By the way, to all you WordPress users out there, what are your favorite widgets for posts and pages?

I bought this cool house fabric because it was on sale and had houses. I bought it online, so what I did not realize was that it appears to have come with strings attached. I’m not using it to make up cute dresses for a little girls’ boutique, or coin purses galore for an Etsy shop, but there is a small chance that it will find it’s way into one of my art quilts which could, potentially, be sold one day.

I’m not going to worry myself too much about this as the chances that someone’s lawyers will track me down in 10 years is pretty darn slim. And, in digging into some of the related issues blogged about in the last five years or so, this all appears to be more bark than bite. But why then print the disclaimer at all?

All things tech and cool blog Boing Boing delved into the issue here in ’06. Fabric-centric blog True-Up followed here the same year. A rather vitriolic post about another designer is here, covering ’05 to ’09. I thought this had all blown over, but now there’s been a more recent episode that sounds very odd. I understand not wanting Crafter A to pass off handbags (or whatever) made from a pattern by Designer B’s pattern as his/her own, I sort of get not wanting to flood the market with things made from Designer B’s pattern when the designer would rather have more people buy the pattern directly and make the item themselves, and I understand the separate issue of designers using older textiles as inspiration (with a fuzzy line between inspiration and appropriation), but trying to restrict how Crafter A uses Designer B’s fabric in Crafter A’s creations is beyond me.

And what are we to do about these fabrics with restrictions? Not buy them (hard to identify them when buying online), segregate them in our stash (totally not practical), return them (not possible), not use them (such a sad waste of fabric)?

I do not want to stir up a hornet’s nest. This is just me thinking out loud about the strings attached to my new fabric.

I’m in a constant state of trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. I’ve already made the choice to be a mother, so that pretty much dictates the majority of my priorities. I also feel compelled to make art. So I am always trying to find the right balance between the two. Lately I’ve been feeling like the art is taking away too much time from the mothering and housewifey stuff I should be doing, and as long as the art isn’t paying any bills or leading anywhere specific, that is probably not the right balance.

In the last few years I’ve set a few goals to focus my work (helps with finding the balance thing). One decision was to enter only local shows if they seemed appropriate, or non-local shows if they were really important ones like Quilt National, with a recognized reputation. In that vein I entered work into Quilts=Art=Quilts and Art Quilt Elements, which seem to be highly regarded in the art quilt world. Amazingly, my quilt “War Sucks,” was accepted into both!

So now I’ve had work hanging in Q=A=Q for over a month but the only feedback I’ve gotten was a flurry of Facebook comments from friends that they are proud of my work being in the show, and emails from the venue promoting quasi-related events at the gallery. Somehow I was expecting more. A catalog (OK, I admit, that’s something I knew going in, and QN and Art Quilt Elements do publish catalogs), or more importantly, some kind of review of the show. I’d love to know if the art world thinks this show is better than last year’s, or not, or reflects some of the current zeitgeist, or shows trends towards larger or smaller work, and which works in particular stood out for whatever reason. Perhaps just knowing that I got in should be enough. That I did not win any of the awards is a critique in itself as well. I asked on the SAQA discussion board if anyone else had perhaps seen a review in a magazine or somewhere, and the general response was that reviews of art quilt shows are not productive and cause more harm than good. I should be happy that my work was accepted. Maybe my disappointment is just a symptom of my tendency to self sabotage.

I have to wonder though, why do I want to get my work shown in these supposedly high cache venues? Are there that many more people coming to view the art than say, at my local library? Is there any more discussion about the artworks than say if they were displayed at the coffee shop down the street? If I’m not actively marketing my work, do I stand any better chance of selling my work than through my website? If I can make it through the jurying process, then why not just try showing in a local gallery where I can at least come see the art in context, and even talk to viewers first hand? Getting back to the balance thing, I wonder what’s the big deal, and why am I doing this? I could probably make a bigger impact by focusing more on my family and creating a healthier environment for them to flourish.

I suspect that I set these shows on a pedestal. I suspect my expectations were too high and my gratitude too low.

I think this is my last Houston post. I have a few more quilts to share that caught my eye.

In all though, I think that both this year and last, the best part of the show is meeting and networking with others. I’m not doing any networking that I expect to lead to sales or important projects, but I do think it’s great to put faces to names and to make a more personal connection to people I otherwise know only through email or names on a website. I love volunteering at the SAQA booth for just that reason. Many people whose work I’ve admired, or who are curating shows, or whose names just keep popping up are there and I get to meet them in person. And, of course, this year meeting nine of the Twelves was just fantastic!

Skating, by Joyce Seagram and Edna Koepke.
I’m not always a fan of The School of Nancy Crow, but this one grabbed me. It’s big and bold too and I gotta love that.

Inland, by Diane Firth
I can’t think of a quilt by Diane that I didn’t like. The simplicity and craftsmanship get me every time.

Another Form II, by Peggy Brown
Nice line and color. And only the most subtle sheen in the three metallic papers.

A Gentle Heart, by Terry Waldren
Part of the Text on Textile exhibit.

Sensing a Journey, by Sonia Grasvik

Long Day’s Journey, by Pamela Morris
This one reminds me of one I liked last year by Jean Wells Keenan titled Stone II. I like them both.

Quilter’s Village, by various artists.

And for some cuteness:

Doll Bed Quilt by Donna Eng.
Donna’s in the same quilt guild as I was and loves miniature quilts. This sweet little one is quintessentially her.

Pineapple Fantasy, by Nancy Roach.
As long as I was admiring Donna’s doll bed quilt, there were several others that caught my eye too. After my Aloha Pineapple quilt, I can’t help but like this teensy one.

Flower Fairy Quilt, by Vicky Clontz.

Even the traditional quilts talk to me:

Feathered Azure, by Judith Thompson
Really amazing hand quilting, and I think the simple design and pale colors are rather sublime too.

I can be a sucker for a traditional quilt — especially a blue and white one. I think this is a variation of Burgoyne Surrounded.

Friends of Baltimore (detail), by Susan Garman and friends
Nice Eagle.

Me and My Shadow (detail) by Gail Stepanek & Rhonda K Beyer.
Love the combo of chocolate and bright, but light, colors.

In Love With Dots and Dolls (details), by Megumi Mizuno
First place Innovative Applique. Buttons, beads, sparkle, cuteness, precision, everything we love from Japanese crafting magazines! I particularly liked the tree and the mushrooms (of course).

Redbud Ramble, by Linda Roy
Love the trees

Crown Jewel (detail), by Claudia Clark Myers & Marilyn Badger.
The big winners and most popular quilts had lots of sparkle and dense quilting. This was no exception. I was most impressed by the quilting on this in the beige areas.

I’m always on the lookout for quilts and other fiber art in which the figure is treated well. That’s not to say that I want to see photo realism. In fact, I think those are the ones that most often fall short. What I like is the figure rendered well if realistic, and intentionally if abstracted or naïve. I was pleasantly surprised by many  I saw in Houston that I liked this year.

Organic is Good For You! by Bodil Gardner.
From the Good For You Exhibit. I love Bodil’s work — so much character and freedom!

Another quilt by Bodil Gardner. I forgot to get the name of it. I just love her charming ladies.

Woman Waiting I, by Pamela Allen
Along with Bodil Gardner, Pam Allen is one of my perennial favorites. She uses primitive and whimsical forms in a wonderfully intentional way that I love.

Tango with a Technopus, by Pam RuBert
Another Pam who renders the figure in a very intentional, and amusing, way.

Population Explosion (detail) by Laura Fogg.
I took this detail photo for my friend Natalya who has some figures from her life drawing class which she has done on fabric and would like to incorporate into her textile work. I really like the way the stitched details overlap and blend the pieced areas, and compliment the gestural paintings.

Dreaming (detail), by Sonia Bardella
Part of the Text on Textile exhibit. Text AND figures — potential to go so wrong, but this one went pretty right.

Solace, By Mary Pal.

Memories of Gombe, by Mary Pal
Honorable Mention. I love Mary Pal’s way with cheesecloth. She knows light light and form, and is so unique in the quilt show world.

Just Call Me Jack, by Virginia Greaves
Here’s the usual posterized method of rendering figures in cloth. I thought this one did a good job and made no apologies for being made of fabric (love the obvious florals and checks).

Self Portrait, by Joan Sowada.
I thought this one also did a good job and made no apologies for being made of fabric, especially where the plaid background interacts with the figures.

Dixie Dingo Dreaming by Susan Carlson.
Figures don’t need to be human either. Susan Carlson’s work inspired me years ago, and this one just renewed that spark. She does such a wonderful job of rendering form realistically, yet celebrating fabric as well.

Next up,  a small collection of photos that didn’t fit neatly into the plant, Hawaiian, or human categories.

I was going to write a bit about my time volunteering at the SAQA exhibit and what the organization has to offer art quilters at various places in their careers or craft. But, I’ve already forgotten what my big point was. Oh well, that means I can move on to the part most people are interested in: the quilts!

I did not take nearly as many photos this year as least, nor did I make much of an effort to see everything on display. I was having too much fun hanging out in the Twelve by Twelve exhibit! My main impression, especially with the World of Beauty quilts (the main section, eligible for prizes and awards) was that there was a LOT of sparkle. Beads, crystals, metallic thread, Angelina fibers, iridescent paint, the more bling the better.

Beyond the bling, I found looking at my photos, that I was attracted to a lot of plant-related quilts.

Lemon Grass, by Cynthia Vogt.
Ahhh, the simplicity. I wish I could think of things like this.

Solo Act, by Peg Collins
I liked this one even before I saw my favorite Kaffe Fasset print in it!

Composition 1, by Miwako Mogami
Big! Big Fruit, big color, big patterns. I like it!

An Autumn Breeze, by Akiko Kawata.
Another of the very graphic quilts I am attracted to.

Bountiful, by Carol Taylor
Loved the color palette and graphic quality of this (similar to Autumn Breeze above) and was surprised that it was made by the normally bright and geometric Carol Taylor.

Salad With Pears, by Gail Segreto
Good For You Exhibit. Big, graphic, and zoomed in!

First Snow, by Lauren Strach.
Nice collage of discharged leaf patterns, but then made more special by all the hand and machine stitching.

Eat Your Vegetables by (?!). I am so sorry that I neglected to get the name of the artist of this piece.
Good For You Exhibit. a combo of silk(?) painting, and bead and button embellishment. It’s kinda like the love child of of Susan Shie’s and Pamela Allen’s work — two of my favorites.

Bugs and Other Things, by Pamela Allen
I love Pam’s work!

Gossip Garden, by Debra Martinez
Another glittery one. It grew on me the more I looked at it. I like the whimsey and wackiness.

Last year I was drawn to the Hawaiian quilts, and this year the pull was stronger. In the meantime, I’ve also admired the work of Meg Maeda and her students, especially their use of radially dyed fabric. Although it is so amazingly different than either my art quilts or the bed quilts I usually make, Hawaiian quilting is taking it’s hold on me. Who knew it was Borg-like?

Hawaiian Quilt, by Mi-Jung Kim.
The Hawaiian quilt bug is infecting me. I was drawn to every one I saw — especially those using radially dyed fabric. I live the way the colors can interact where the transitions on the foreground fabric align with the transitions on the background fabric. This is not the most subtle fabric combination (see Meg’s work for that), but the idea is there and the craftsmanship is fantastic.

Halemaumau (detail), by Takashi Kusaka.
No radially dyed fabric here, but I liked the particularly lush border on this one, and absolutely “get” the reference to the ferns and glowing lava around the Halemaumau crater at the top of Kilauea.

Lei Lani (detail), by Mineko Momose.
Another Hawaiian quilt with radially dyed fabrics. I’m hooked. Small radials form the hawaiian applique on separate blocks — yet another application for it.

Feathers Aglow, by Judith Thompson.
I was drawn to this one because I thought, from afar, that it might fit into the Hawaiian-ish with radially dyed fabric category I’ve been attracted to. Upon closer look, it was carefully chosen and placed commercial fabrics, but I still love the clean, graphic, quality of this.

Next up will be quilts with figures — a pet peeve of mine. I was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few that I thought were outstanding.

With all the talk and protests lately about distribution of wealth and scope of government, I’ve gotten stuck on one particular point. We Americans call ourselves a democracy, but that is essentially “one man, one vote.” We don’t have that.  Technically, we have a republic, in which we elect representatives who should vote in our best interest. However, I’ve believed for a long time that what we actually live in is an oligarchy — ruling by an elite class. The American elite class is the monied lobbies which get much of their operating funds from corporations. We think we are voting for who we choose, but who we choose depends on what we know about the candidates, and that tends to be based on ads and exposure, which is ultimately based on the amount of money a candidate has at his or her disposal. I get frustrated when journalists follow, not the candidates’ platforms, but the amount of money they’ve raised; yet the latter is probably a better indication of how they will fare. Of course, the financial influence doesn’t stop with elections — it’s camped out permanently in the lobbies of the House and Senate.

So we follow the money. The top 1% apparently has the most and they use it to their advantage to control the power structure in their favor. Corporations are the evil “They” which run the oligarchy. Career politicians are little better. They spend their time worrying about funding their next campaign instead of passing legislature that would benefit their constituents. But who are “They?” Isn’t the American Dream to work hard and become successful in one’s business? And aren’t corporate boards made of successful business people? I also look at my local senator and representatives, and they seem like normal people, living a pretty regular life, making appearances at local and charitable events, pounding the pavement to connect with the people, working to solve local issues. Weren’t the politicians in Washington once just local ones too?

So my conundrum revolves around this “Us” versus “Them” conflict. On the one hand, yes, we the 99% (my family has a roof over our head, food in our belly, medical coverage, and little debt, so are we “Us” or “Them?”) have far less influence, and appear to suffer far more than “They” do in the top 1%. We talk about corporations running Washington. But aren’t those in Washington just extensions of us (since we voted for the representatives that voted for them, and the representatives are still “Us”)? And aren’t corporations run by people? I could be wrong, but I haven’t gotten any emails from Skynet welcoming our robot overlords. So where’s the disconnect? At what point did “We” become “Them,” or do “They” cease to be “Us?”

I think I have an answer, but it involves basic human nature being about greed and self preservation, with some sour grapes thrown in. But I don’t want to believe I’m that cynical as it goes against my self view of a liberal, reasonably compassionate, person.

I started this quilt in 2002 as my reaction to 9/11. At the time, I was making the transition from more traditional quilts (sticking to existing patterns and gridded layouts) to more organic art quilts. I saw things pretty literally (I still struggle a lot with being too literal).

As background, we were living in Wiesbaden, Germany at the time (2000 to 2004). On our previous tour in Germany (1996 to 1999) my husband had deployed on peacekeeping missions to Bosnia and Kosovo and spent a great deal of the time in between on training exercises in the field. We were used to a high operations tempo. I was gaining a lot of respect for, and insight into, the previously-unknown-to-me time that my grandfather served in WWII — so naturally, I was drawn to WWII imagery. I had found a Service Flag in an antique shop in Arizona and it resonated with me.

I don’t really know how to explain how 9/11 affected me, other than knowing that the US I knew prior, and had grown up in, was vastly different than the US I returned to on visits post 9/11. I don’t think I mourned the victims, or felt as directly violated as did the rest of the country. Maybe my axis didn’t change so much since I was already removed, having lived in Europe for more than four years at the time, and then another seven years after the attack. Security on post in Germany had already been higher than on posts in the US after the 1998 bombings of US embassies in Africa. Imagine my surprise when we moved to Arizona for 10 months in 1999 and the gate to Ft Huachuca was wide open with the threat level considered “normal.” Normal to me was show your ID card every time you entered and sign your non-military guests in and out.

After the 9/11 attacks, overseas posts braced for possible attacks. Though the posts themselves could add more security measures at the gates (like checking every car for explosives — oh the drudgery of getting the babies out of their car seats, opening all the doors and trunk, and standing aside in the freezing cold during those winter checks), housing areas like where we lived were still relatively open. While fencing was being constructed, and a longer term solution was found (hired security guards), we were protected by cement blast barriers, concertina wire, and patrolling soldiers. For many months there was a HMMV parked outside our apartment building (we supplied a lot of coffee to the rotating shifts in that vehicle). I think this was my 9/11 world. Don’t get me wrong — I maintain that the real heroes of 9/11 are the first responders and civilians in NY, the Pentagon, and on Flight 93. It’s just that my world was, and still is, the fallout of the US reaction: the military response.

So, something was rattling around in my head. I liked the graphic simplicity of the Service Flag and could easily see it translated into a large quilt. I made sketches and mulled ideas of how to add interest into those large areas of color (plain white with a plain red border wasn’t special enough). Then at the end of the year, my man deployed to Kuwait which would serve as home base for the push into Iraq. I think that’s when I knew I’d need a Service Flag, just like those families in WWII. There are purposely 50 white stars behind the large blue one. An eagle and flags figure prominently in the broderie perse swag, and the red border is made of log cabins which represent home. I worked pretty consistently piecing, appliqueing, and then hand quilting the quilt during the six months TS&WGH was in Kuwait and then the 4-ish months shortly thereafter when he was in Iraq. Then he was home for nearly five years (with annual trips, but not so long and not to war zones) and the emotional push was no longer there. I tired of the hand quilting. We moved to another post in Germany. I turned my attention to landscapes for a solo show. I put the Service Flag quilt away for an embarrassing number of years.

Now, nearly a decade later, after a twelve month deployment to Iraq and in the middle of another, the urge returns. I’m feeling like I have a voice in my Army Wife aprons and Medallion quilt. The Service Flag has context again. But my work has evolved. There’s a roughness and a rawness that hadn’t yet come to the surface in the simply patriotic star quilt. So, I will finish hand quilting the border, which is all that is left, and then use it as a backdrop for a transformation. I will do something to this quilt that will allow it to speak on a more even level with the others in what is now a series. I know, many are groaning that I would possibly deface such a pretty quilt. But pretty wasn’t getting it anywhere other than stuffed in a cabinet for more than five years. As I move forward, and my art evolves, I can’t get stuck on preciousness. War is not precious.

I don’t know about elsewhere, but on the public radio station I listen to, the President’s address on Saturdays is followed by what the announcer calls “the Opposition response.” This annoys me to no end. Response is for debates and conversations, not addresses. I find this very disrespectful to the position of POTUS. I’d rather hear the “Opposition” give their own address later as a stand alone statement without staging it as a refute.

I am saddened that Obama’s call to stop oil subsidies (you think gas is expensive NOW, it’s subsidies that keeps it so low. Europe pays twice as much than we do and it has forced them to live a lot more sustainably. If the US paid the real cost of oil instead of the cost lowered by subsidies, then solar, wind, and bio would be much more competitive price-wise) was met with pushback that we should be paying less. I believe that, as Thomas Friedman writes in “Hot, Flat & Crowded,” we are driving in a car with poor brakes, in the fog, towards a cliff. The Opposition today seemed to think that we should continue full speed ahead and somehow the cliff either doesn’t exist, or we’ll have time to change our habits as we plummet off the precipice. Yeah, that’s what’s bugging me today.

Had I sat down to write this a few days ago I would have started with my annual contribution check to hubby’s and my IRA accounts. We use our tax refund each year to help with the contributions to either our retirements or our kids’ college funds. We’d write those checks even without the tax refunds, but they do make it easier. What I don’t do is put that refund back into the economy with purchases. So, I wonder, how many people are actually stimulating the economy with their tax savings as the politicians insist is happening? And that top bracket that’s supposed to be using the savings to create jobs — is it really their personal tax savings they would be using? Wouldn’t it be business taxes that define better when jobs could or could not be created? Am I misunderstanding that taxes to businesses and taxes to individuals are different? Do the Bush tax cuts apply to everything equally? Because I’m thinking that yes, it’s unfair to tell the top bracket that they personally are making too much money and should give some back in the form of letting those tax cuts expire for them only. Let my bracket pay too. The Clinton years weren’t so bad. I say let the Bush era cuts expire for everyone — with the exception of the very lowest tax bracket only — because THESE are the people who really could use a little extra cash in pocket.

When I’m queen I’ll let the tax cuts expire for all but the poorest; I’ll cut or at least modify corn, soy, and oil subsidies; I’ll invest in public transportation, wind, solar, and finding a way to use all that fryer oil we create to run the cars we love; I’ll cut military spending, not by asking the military to do more with less, but by rethinking just how and where we want to use the US military (see Weinberger), and by reinstating war bonds or a war tax; I will give women choices; I will recognize civil unions for matters of legality like property, taxes, child custody, and medical decisions, and let marriages be recognized only as spiritual unions governed by individual churches, temples, and other places of worship (so they can define it however their books require); and I’d like to make universal health care a reality, though I don’t really know how to do it (I’m pretty sure vouchers that are not inflation-proof is not the answer, and maybe capping pharmaceutical prices or bulk purchasing power is).

Since I’ll never actually BE queen of the United States, now all I have to do is vote for a politician who’s platform comes close to what I’ve outlined above. Ha. I might as well renounce my citizenship and move to Canada right now.