Modern Quilting Group - Orchard Valley Quilters Guild
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A copy of her presentation will be posted on the Members Only page soon, but in the meantime follow some of our Modern Quilting Links.
March 29 Here is the response to last month's "Stack" challenge. February 23 Here are the beautiful results from Sue's challenge to use negative space to full advantage. January 26 Thanks to Sue M. Here are her tips: Don't feel like you have to put every modern style into one quilt. Focus on what you like. Play around with simple shapes and repeat the element throughout the quilt.
Less is usually more when it comes to modern quilting. Photo Credit: Marian Grimwood. November 24 We chose a name, we collected more than 20 slabs the November challenge for donation quilts, and we were inspired by Francine's trunk show. Francine started her quilting journey with modern fabrics and modern blocks.
Plans are in the works for a Modern Quilting Workshop in April. Watch the Workshops page for updates. More than 40 dedicated and wannabe modern quilters turned up brimming with enthusiasm for Modern Quilting. Lots of ideas flowed from the group, and we held a quick planning meeting on November 10 to set up an agenda for the rest of the year based on the suggestions from the group. Please bring them along next time for a photo shoot. People want challenges so we came up with a new challenge for November. Construct a 13" x 15" unfinished SLAB the Modern word for block which will eventually become part of a donation quilt.
The Donation Committee will provide the fabric at the next couple of meetings, and we will provide some guidance in creating the SLAB. And you can start with a white patch -- or not. Participation optional, but this looks like a lot of fun!! It's also a great learning experience!! Here are some pictures of the slabs we made and of the redesigned name tag block from last month.
Click on pictures to enlarge; use side arrows to navigate. Modern Quilting Challenge October Our guild logo, the Churn Dash block or some might call it Shoo Fly , which you see at the top of every web page and on your name tag, is a traditional block. Can you redesign this block and make it modern? Your offering need not be sewn or quilted: a drawing, a paper or fabric collage, will do.
Want it * Need it * Gotta Have it!
Any size, any colour. Participation optional. To help you along, here is a review of Linda's notes click on images to enlarge; use side arrows to navigate. You can also get some help from Google. She stumbles along good. She knows she is not bright. Like good looks and money, quickness passes her by. She will marry John Thomas who has mossy teeth in an earnest face and then I'll be free to sit here and I guess just sing church songs to myself. Although I never was a good singer. Never could carry a tune.
I was always better at a man's job. I used to love to milk till I was hooked in the side in ' Cows are soothing and slow and don't bother you, unless you try to milk them the wrong way. I have deliberately turned my back on the house. It is three rooms, just like the one that burned, except the roof is tin; they don't make shingle roofs any more. There are no real windows, just some holes cut in the sides, like the portholes in a ship, but not round and not square, with rawhide holding the shutters up on the outside. This house is in a pasture, too, like the other one. No doubt when Dee sees it she will want to tear it down.
She wrote me once that no matter where we "choose" to live, she will manage to come see us. But she will never bring her friends. Maggie and I thought about this and Maggie asked me, "Mama, when did Dee ever have any friends? She had a few. Furtive boys in pink shirts hanging about on washday after school. Nervous girls who never laughed. Impressed with her they worshiped the well. She read to them. When she was courting Jimmy T she didn't have much time to pay to us, but turned all her faultfinding power on him.
He flew to marry a cheap city girl from a family of ignorant flashy people. She hardly had time to recompose herself. Maggie attempts to make a dash for the house, in her shuffling way, but I stay her with my hand. And she stops and tries to dig a well in the sand with her toe. It is hard to see them clearly through the strong sun. But even the first glimpse of leg out of the car tells me it is Dee.
Her feet were always neat. From the other side of the car comes a short, stocky man. Hair is all over his head a foot long and hanging from his chin like a kinky mule tail. I hear Maggie suck in her breath. Like when you see the wriggling end of a snake just in front of your foot on the road. Dee next. A dress down to the ground, in this hot weather. A dress so loud it hurts my eyes. There are yellows and oranges enough to throw back the light of the sun. I feel my whole face warming from the heat waves it throws out. Earrings gold, too, and hanging down to her shoul.
Bracelets dangling and making noises when she moves her arm up to shake the folds of the dress out of her armpits. The dress is loose and flows, and as she walks closer, I like it. I hear Maggie go "Uhnnnh" again. It is her sister's hair. It stands straight up like the wool on a sheep. It is black as night and around the edges are two long pigtails that rope about like small lizards disappearing behind her ears.
The short stocky fellow with the hair to his navel is all grinning and he follows up with "Asalamalakim, my mother and sister! I feel her trembling there and when I look up I see the perspiration falling off her chin. Since I am stout it takes something of a push.
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You can see me trying to move a second or two before I make it. She turns, showing white heels through her sandals, and goes back to the car. Out she peeks next with a Polaroid. She stoops down quickly and lines up picture after picture of me sitting there in front of the house with Maggie cowering behind me. She never takes a shot without mak' ing sure the house is included.
When a cow comes nibbling around the edge of the yard she snaps it and me and Maggie and the house. Then she puts the Polaroid in the back seat of the car, and comes up and kisses me on the forehead. Meanwhile Asalamalakim is going through motions with Maggie's hand. Maggie's hand is as limp as a fish, and probably as cold, despite the sweat, and she keeps trying to pull it back.
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It looks like Asalamalakim wants to shake hands but wants to do it fancy. Or maybe he don't know how people shake hands. Anyhow, he soon gives up on Maggie. Dicie is my sister. She named Dee.
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