Sunflowers, fuschia, coneflowers, black-eyes susans, painted daisies, tulips, lilies, zinnias and pansies are some examples of fabric flowers I have created, as well as tended in my gardens over the years. Fabric flowers offer a fabulous opportunity to play with color and textures to create a single bloom or a bouquet in a realistic or whimsical style.

Gardening and flowers have been a big part of my life for over 45 years now. The gardens on the estate we lived/worked on and our own land reconnected me to the earth through growing our food. My first ever-expanding perennial garden grew and grew because I didn’t want to mow the lawn at my house.

Two of the perennial beds at my current home.

Here in Vermont I have slowly converted a chunk of my lawn to perennial beds, a “foster garden” and a row of elderberries. Most of the FLOWER POWER collection is inspired from photographs of my own flowers.

Sometimes I have to chuckle at how that young city girl who rode her bike in the alley, played stoop ball off the building steps into the street, and lived in apartments ended up with her soul and feet deeply connected to the earth.

Fabric Flowers

Early on in my fabric art journey I took an online FLOWER POWER class from Quilt University. I learned how to make flowers in different ways: “the free form collage method, quick and easy fusible applique, the complexity of freezer paper and upside down applique.” I created a tulip, black eyed susans, a coneflower, and an abstract flower in that class. Then, just like my in-the-soil flower garden, the flower art grew and grew.

From an exhibit in Manchester, Vermont

I found the “sandwich” method (below) to be one of my favorite techniques. After cutting out the petals and leaves, a piece of tulle is placed over the whole piece. The leaves are sewn using the blanket stitch while either free-motion quilting or zig-zag stitch holds the “flower sandwich” together. Thread painting (free motion quilting) provides texture to the stems or petals.

What I enjoy about this way of creating flowers is that it brings one back to drawing as a child. The petals are misshapen, the width of the stems uneven, and the leaves look like a triangle with curved edges. And best of all, there is no way to make a mistake. It WILL look like a flower.

Painted daisies with batik material for leaves, the simulate the fern-like texture of the leaves

Sunflowers are a staple at Evening Song Farm. Besides being Kara’s favorite flower, they tower above the perennial garden as well as frame the borders of the CSA Pick-Your-Own garden.

The fabric sunflowers require just some in-and-out cuts to create the petals, semi-circular inner petals, thin strips for the stems and a shrub shape for the leaves. Free-motion quilting holds the flowers down; my “staple” blanket stitch anchors the leaves and stems. You could also use a zig-zag or satin stitch.

Sometimes the fabric I have guides me in the direction of a creation. Below, the background fabric called for a hanging plant. Fuschias used to be one of my mother’s favorites, plus I had this amazing piece of fabric with pinks, magenta, and purples splotched here and there.

Fuschias at the exhibit in Manchester, Vermont

Can you believe that, besides the background, only two other materials were used? Again, that is one of the special benefits of using batik fabric. There always are so many colors and/or hues in one piece you pick up. A simple zig-zag stitch created the stems. A while after the piece was finished, I felt the leaves were too flat, so out came the fabric paint sticks to create veins.

Flowers Through the Seasons – A WIP (work in progress)

This basket of flowers began years ago. At some point, I put it aside as it just wasn’t “grabbing” me. Recently, it emerged and is in the queue of bigger works to finish in 2022/ early 2023.

Starting with the early spring flowers of daffodils and pansies, this piece moves into the warmth of the later spring/ early summer blossoms. The lilies have thread painted pistils and stamens; the irises are awaiting theirs. The approaching autumn air leaves behind summer’s black-eyed susans and coneflowers. The long lasting sunflowers (top right- just the tips shown in this photo) transition well through the waning warmth of summer to those crisp autumn mornings. These are followed by the brilliance of the winter poinsettia.

Some of the stems have fallen off, more leaves need to be added and a lot of thread painting is still on the horizon. I can once again see the potential in this piece. Hopefully, I will finish it sometime this summer …. or fall … and there’s always winter.

Summer Reflections

While living in Vermont somewhat limits the growing season, I treasure those moments of gardening, either for myself or others. There’s something about just watching the bees light on the catmint after a rain or see a butterfly light on the Joe Pye Weed that warms my heart.

Whether you find joy from flowers through plants grown by you or a neighbor or through ones you create from fabric, I hope that inspires you to take a step in caring for our planet.

Part of my vision for my business is to be recognized widely as a pet portrait and pet memorial fabric artist, to the degree that a magazine or other media asks to interview me. Since no one is knocking on my door yet, I thought I’d practice here this month.

What is it that you do?

I collage with fabric. That is, I audition and cut up pieces of fabric to create a picture that comes either from my imagination or from a photo.

The start of Olivia

When and why did you start The Quilted Jardin, LLC?

There were two reasons:

1. I wanted to have something to do when I retired that would bring me joy and provide additional income.
2. I had run out of people to whom I could give my quilts, fabric pictures, and other sewn crafts as gifts.

So it just made sense to start a part-time business back in 2006 prior to my retirement.

What is your most favorite tool?

My Bernina sewing machine! Bought second hand, it’s been going strong for almost 17 years now.  

If you are thinking of a handheld tool, it then has to be my surgical seam ripper. This has the smoothest way of slicing through threads. I can even use it to undo the layered thread painting of an eye sparkle (and that’s A LOT of thread) without slicing the fabric underneath.

Who are other fabric artists whom you admire?

Susan Carlson, Bisa Butler, Danny Amazonas, and Nancy Prince

What is the most satisfying part of your work?

Helping people along the grieving process through the experience of working with me in the creation of a pet memorial and/or receiving one as a gift.

What is your artistic style?

Whimsical, colorful, and playful

Carrots and “More Hay, Please”… Bella with a flake of yarn hay

What has been a challenge you’ve faced?

A significant challenge was the cancellation of many art shows due to COVID-19. With one of my grandchildren having respiratory issues, I made the choice not to do any shows both in 2020 and 2021.

However, I was able to work ON my business and now have a shop and a blog. 

What are your next artistic projects?

I have several large WIPS (works in progress) that I am determined to finish and some new ideas.  

• • “What About Me?” is my almost completed polar bear in the Arctic night.
  • “Flowers ‘Round the Seasons” incorporates flowers from each season into one work.  It needs more embellishment on the flowers.
  • “Blue Owl and a Blue Moon” is at the beginning stages. This will depict Olivia’s cousin.  

Interested in purchasing any of these including Olivia?  Just email me for more specifics.

Where are you? 

I currently live in North Bennington, Vermont.  I am less than 10 minutes away from my daughter and her family and 70 minutes away from my son and his family. 

What do you like to do for fun?

Play LEGO (Pirates, Soldiers, and Wizards) with my oldest grandson, read, “do art,” and go for walks with my younger two farm grandkids, be silly with all three of them, keep up with my ever-expanding perennial garden, and garden for others (even though I get paid for that).

What do you wish your customers knew about your work?  

Two things: First, the photo you send me is critical to the process. When I get a reference photo that isn’t the right color of the animal, it’s difficult to proceed. Sometimes an additional photo or two can set the record straight and I can find the correct fabrics. Other times it takes multiple reference photos and even more progress photographs of the changes back and forth before it’s on the right path.  

Second, a number of my customers who had a portrait done when their pet was alive have told me later that they were so happy they commissioned one when they did. Their beloved pet had since died and the portrait I did helped them get through the grieving experience.

Shiloh died about a year after his fabric portrait was completed. He hangs in his owner’s bedroom.

I just love your work.  How can I keep up with all that is going on with the Quilted Jardin?

I send out a monthly newsletter that shares what’s happening in my studio, highlights various topics like pet rescue, pets as family, etc. and shows some of my works.  You also are entered in a monthly drawing for either 3 fabric note cards or a 8×10 inch matted picture.  Just sign up here!

FYI – it is a DOUBLE OPT-IN, so if you don’t see it within 12 hours of signing up, then look for the confirmation email in your junk folder.

It’s that time of year when, as a small business owner, I take stock of how the past year has gone and pull together my thoughts for the upcoming year.

When I retired early in 2016, it was to move to Vermont for family, fabric, and farm. Those 3 F’s, with the additional one of flowers, have guided my decision-making process since then.

Back in January, I chose to not do in-person shows for the second year in a row for family reasons. (Although, to be precise, there were only a handful of shows that actually happened in 2020). Being of my “”certain age” and having a grandchild who is medically vulnerable, I just didn’t want to take that risk.

For the past four years, I have identified goal words as my inspiration. Early this year, I chose:

PROCESS (both the noun and the verb)   

Learning how to blog, how to set up and manage an email newsletter, and on-line marketing were all completely new processes in which I immersed myself this year. I finished up the last of the college courses on social media/ marketing (funding for the courses were specifically for Vermont business owners who were affected by COVID). 

Keywords, SEO, and product descriptions became part of my life as my daughter and I worked on creating my online store. A grant from the Vermont Arts Council  allowed me to hire a consultant for a store/ website review and for studio photography.  

Taking photographs of all my work that were clear and color correct and developing a filing system for each of the different sizes/uses was a long, long adventure (my polite way of saying it was challenging). I struggled for months with phone photographs, even with a “make it better” app. Finally the mental logjam broke when we realized that my daughter had a digital camera, her studio lights moved over here, and I hired a local photographer to come to my studio, help set it up properly, and give us a mini-tutorial.

On the artistic side, I practiced painting eyes and noses to the point where I am pleased with the results. Two of my commissions were on the bigger end of the scale and one included a house, something I haven’t done in 9+ years.

Part of any job in life is our mindset towards it. Another significant shift for me was from “I need my daughter to do those technical aspects for me” to “I can do this myself.”  And while I am not completely on my own yet, it will happen soon. 

Two books in shifting my mindset that were very helpful early on were Amber Rae’s Choose Wonder over Worry and Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert.

I have developed solid strategies for those times when my art process stalled. I learned to call the emotions by name, to invite them in, listen to their thoughts, fears, and worries, thank them for their concern, and send them on their way. Imaging became a valuable tool. On a walk with my younger grandson, seeing the frozen creek and hearing the water flowing underneath, I was reminded that there is movement under the surface even when things appear frozen.

Unveil

This year the Quilted Jardin unveiled:

• This blog
• A monthly newsletter (you can sign up here)
• The on-line store
• New options for eyes and noses for pet portraits and memorials

I also unveiled more of the artist within… just by practicing and giving myself permission to experiment without the pressure of results.

Looking Ahead to 2022

I’m beginning to gather a list of possible goal words like a squirrel gathers nuts.

Striving for that healthy BALANCE between my art and the gardening I do for others is paramount. 

It’s time again to STRETCH myself to ACQUIRE new skills: Pinterest as a marketing platform and a different method of fabric collage.

Upgrade the shop, EXPAND offerings for pet portraits and memorials, and SYSTEMATIZE all the processes for a shop listing. 

Even as Omicron becomes more established in Vermont, it is with a sense of hope that I am tentatively planning to return to in-person shows in late summer/ fall of 2022. Over the next week, I’ll finish my written review of all aspects of my business in 2021 and  finalize my plan for 2022 – Quarter 1.  

Happy new year to all, and good luck with your goal setting, whether personal or professional!

Fall is drawing to a close here in Vermont. The vibrant colors of the maples and aspens have mostly faded and what is left are a few of those dark maroon-brown leaves that cling tenaciously to the branches and piles upon piles of leaves on the ground.

For some reason this is the time of year when I am drawn to creating colorful pictures of the tri-toned hills and birds. In fact, making hills and mountains is where I began this fabric journey. A sense of coming back to where I started? Of preparing for the transition to the greys and whites of winter?

There is a simplicity about the landscapes I create that is soothing. It’s just a matter of choosing colors and employing a “kindergarten cut” technique of rolling curves or sharp ups and downs for the mountain peaks and then placing them down in a layered fashion.

A Mini-Lesson

Starting with the sky – will it be grey, partly sunny, stormy or a night sky?

Hills – reds, yellows and oranges for fall; light green and kelly greens for summer; whites and emerald greens for winter?

Mountains – greens, purples, grey, white snow covered?

Take your fabric and just gently cut a rolling wavy shape. Then cut another of a different material. Starting in the distance, layer the view from back to front. Stop, step back and squint at it. Too dull? Add a spot of color. Shapes too synchronous? Move one of the layers to the left or right. Try out fabrics that you don’t think would work (the green with gold pinecones below.) Step back. Squint again.

And that is all it takes to create a landscape, besides the sewing, that is. I use a blanket stitch to give the appearance of being handsewn.

Although spring is my favorite season, over the years I have learned to appreciate the lessons of fall and the upcoming winter. 

A time of reflection – 

• • Of letting things fall away
  • Of trusting in the process 
  • Of deepening one’s faith in the process of life
  • Of living with awareness with the uncertainty 
  • Of  the shift from busy, busy, busy to a steady energy of replenishing
  • Of knowing that in 5-6 months there will be rich “compost” from that which has been discarded over the fall and winter

  It also is that time of observation. At least one of the pairs of cardinals still visits the feeder outside my kitchen window. The goldfinches are getting the last of the coneflower seeds. Pesky squirrels have figured out a way past the baffle on the feeder. The Green Mountains outside my front window still have that tinge of golden purple haze in the late afternoons. I know soon that will shift to traces of white amongst the greens of the pines.

While I am sure there are owls in the woods beyond the next house over, I haven’t sighted any yet. Instead I am left to create them in fabric and let them live temporarily in my shop.  Here’s part of the current parliament of owls.

Something has shifted for me these past few years. I find winter to be my most creative and experimental time. Maybe it is because I have the time to participate in Challenges (a set number of days where one works on something specific to a theme, technique, or prompts) since I’m not gardening. Perhaps it’s that all the ideas that have been swirling around spring and summer come bubbling to the surface. It could be that I become open to stretching myself, to trying things I’ve never done. Whatever the reason, I am enjoying what I create. 

Works in Progress

I am committed to finishing two works in progress, “What About Me?” (my juvenile polar bear) and “Four Seasons”.  They need some touch-ups (poor bear lost his left front paw going on and off the design wall so many times) and then a final sewing time.  I will be posting their progress photos on my IG (www.instagram.com/thequiltedjardin)  and Facebook (www.facebook.com/thequiltedjardin) accounts.   

Speaking of works in progress, here is a dragon I’ve been working on. However, the puzzle that perplexes me this late fall is this: exactly WHAT is my dragon flying over?  A city? A castle fortress? A forest? The sea? I love how her body and wings show texture and depth but until I unearth the story around her, she remains in her cave (a folder on my sewing table).  

So, perhaps you can help me. If you have heard anything on the winds about her story, shoot me an email:   martha@thequiltedjardin.com. 

And finally just to get us in the mood of winter, here is “To Grandma’s House”.  I took great artistic liberty with a house and property down the street from where I lived in Galway, NY, added in Maggie’s horse, and moved the pond.   

The best way to keep on top of what is going on at The Quilted Jardin is to subscribe to my newsletter.  

Fabric Art Comes in All Shapes and Sizes

I am often asked these two questions: “What’s the smallest size (fabric picture) you make?” and “What has been your biggest work?”

Well, in case you’re also wondering, here are some stats:

• • Smallest landscape: 3×4 inches (7.5×10 cm)
  • Smallest animal: A whimsical turtle – 3×4 inches (7.5×10 cm)
  • Smallest custom work from a photo: a house 8×10 inches (21x26cm)

• • Biggest landscape: custom order from photo 9×9 feet (280×280 cm)
  • Biggest animal: Polar Bear cub 42×34 inches (109 x83 cm)
  • Biggest pet portrait custom work from a photo: 24×32 inches (62×78 cm)

There are some interesting stories behind these numbers.

Small Fabric Art

The small works started for two reasons. A number of folks who admired my art at shows spoke about how they were downsizing or already had so many pictures in their house. While they loved a particular piece, there was just no room for it.

Then at one show, a child approached me with $5 and pointed to one of my $40 framed pictures. “I want to buy that for my mom. I like that art.” Then and there, I just knew I had to make something that was affordable and extremely portable. That’s when my “smalls” began. Starting with seasonal landscapes in a 5 x 3 frame, I’ve added turtles and owls over the years.

My display of the “smalls” at one of Vermont Craft Council’s Open Studio events.

Bigger Art Pieces

My bigger original works have had a variety of themes. “She Rejoices” celebrates arriving on the other side of a long breast cancer journey. “Flowers Through the Seasons” features a basket bouquet of flowers that transitions from springtime through wintertime. “How Much Time?,” a polar bear cub on ice, speaks (a piece that is still in process) to the climate crisis we are currently facing.

But these are teeny tiny compared to my biggest work.

She Rejoices and How Much Time?

The Biggest (so far)

The email read in part: “I am fascinated by your wonderful work! Would you consider doing a large (8’ X 8’) wall hanging? … It would be a scenic creation, based upon photographs that I can provide, mixed with your own creativity. I live in the Cascade Mountains of Washington State, and my home décor is a reflection of the beautiful world that surrounds us.”

And thus began “The Enchantments.” They sent me 6 different photos, then narrowed down to two and this is the one we chose to use.

The reference photo for this tri-panel wall hanging came directly from the view outside their window.

The Enchantments is a mountainous area in the Northern Cascades mountains, just outside of Leavenworth, Washington.  Check out some outstanding views. 

 There were several challenges within the creation of this tri-panel landscape quilt.  First, I did not have a table at my house big enough to hold the panels, so most of this was laid out/pinned together on my living room floor. Since the bindings on the inside four edges were the mountains and sky instead of a solid color, I had to be sure they all lined up perfectly. Lastly I couldn’t hang it up in my house to be sure all the bottom edges were in alignment as my ceilings were only 8 feet high.  Obviously, there was a work-around for all those issues. 

As you can see there are two ponderosa pine trees, one on each side of the view. I cut out over 1000 pine needles and sewed on, one by one, 837 individual needles.  Up, down, up, down, up.  I don’t know what I was thinking as free-motion quilting with fusing (iron-on adhesive) would have been so, SO much easier.

Close-up of pieced, quilted sky and the ponderosa pines.

Oh, and then there’s the moment after I had someone take a “finished” photo of the work, when I realized I had forgotten one whole section of pine needles.  Luckily it was only 8 needles in total and I was easily able to correct my oversight. 

The Enchantments in its entirety

For 3 whole days after taking it to the post office, I was as nervous as nervous can be.  Getting the email that said it arrived was such a relief. 

We are still gawking at our new “Meisterstueck.”  It is truly breathtaking.

That just made my heart warm, even though I had to ask for a translation.  Here’s what followed. 

“Meisterstueck” (German alphabet spelling Meisterstück) is quite simply the German word for “Masterpiece”!

And my response: 

I am so pleased that you like it.  I am very critical of my work and for a long time all I could see was that it wasn’t touching my vision. However, once I quilted it and bound the edges, something just lit up. I think it was finally seeing it as one piece, not three separate entities (well, really 6 separate pieces – with the sky and the mountains in each panel being a “piece”).

So from works that are a mere 15 square inches to ones that are 11,664 square inches, I guess that qualifies as BIG, BIGGER, BIGGEST. 

“The Four Seasons,” measuring 40 by 35 inches, shows flowers from each of the seasons. This is a WIP (work in progress).

Looking for your own wall art to fill that big empty space in your home? I can make that unique original art piece from your photo. Not sure what picture would work? No problem. I will look at your photo possibilities and make recommendations.

For more information, check out FAQs or contact me.

The Farm

You often hear me mention “the farm” on my Instagram or Facebook accounts or in these posts. The farm is Evening Song Farm, an organic vegetable CSA, owned by Kara and Ryan Fitzbeauchamp, my daughter-in-law and son. It is located in Shrewsbury, Vermont and is in its second location; the fields were completely washed away during Hurricane Irene in 2011.

Kara and Ryan have inspired me in so many ways over the years. Their initial business plan blew my socks off. I remember thinking “These two are only one year out of college and wow, this is what they envision for their business/ lives.” 

One influence, in particular, came from their business postcard.  It was a photograph of different varieties of carrots heaped high at their  market.  I looked at this and said 1) I need to put pictures of my work on a business postcard, and 2) I want to create those bunches of delicious carrots in fabric.

While this isn’t the original inspiration, here are bunches of carrots washed and ready for CSA members.

The First Evening Song Carrots

When I went to create my first Evening Song Carrots piece, I pulled out all my yellows and oranges and even some purples from the fabric totes. The piece was to be on a 16×20 inch canvas. Once I free cut some carrots, I quickly realized that there was no way bunches and bunches of carrots would fit on this size. Each carrot deserved to stand out, not look like a smush of orange.

Because these were farm carrots, the carrot greens had to be part of the artwork. After ironing on a two-sided adhesive onto the fabric, I drew squiggly fronds and cut them out. Next was to carefully arrange the bunch while considering color and carrot shape. I ironed down the greens and sewed the individual carrots, making it a point to add root hairs at tips. The tops were then free motion quilted to prevent them flopping around if the adhesive became loose in the future. 

Evening Song carrots grew into other designs such as Carrots Dining

I have created eggplant, peppers, tomatoes, and corn so far, with peas and broccoli cut out waiting to be sewn.

Not the inspirational photo, but just a reminder about how many colors an eggplant has on its skin

And the peppers… there are so many varieties of peppers grown at Evening Song Farm. There are habanero and serrano and poblano and jalapeno and rainbow and carmen and…

And Then Came the Farm Animals

It was an easy transition from pet portraits to farm animal portraits. Bella and Zia grace the farm with their presence and serve a critical role in the health of the farm ecosystem. Over the years there have also been chickens, pigs, and Mr. Nelson and LMNO (both goats).

Zia with her baby, and Bella in the background with one of hers

Bella has been my featured farm lady as Zia tends to hide when I’m looking to take a photo. The first goat portrait I did, I did just for the joy of it, not really thinking it would sell. I wanted to make it extra whimsical so I added knobby tan yarn for hay.  My explanation to viewers was that whenever I walk by her, Bella lets me know she wants some hay and isn’t happy when she  doesn’t get it.

Little did I know that finding a unique gift for someone who adores goats is not that easy. My goat art has gone to a piano teacher who “LOOOOVES her goat more than she loves piano” as an end of year thank you, a best friend’s birthday present, as well as for a child’s farm nursery.     

Two different variations of Bella. Note her flakes of hay to keep her quiet and well-fed

And there are other animals I have made.  Shiloh is in the living room of her owner. Piggie now patiently awaits dinner at the house of the grandchild of a customer.  My chickens…  well they are still wondering when someone will take them home to roost.

Interesting facts: Shiloh’s top part of the barn door is 3D. Piggy won a 2nd place ribbon at an art show.

What’s Next?

I’ll continue my (mostly) weekly farm visits and instead of weeding, my Grandma B task is to play with  my younger two grandchildren.Together we are making memories for us all.  

There’s another pig on my design wall.  I’m definitely open to ideas for new farm animals and veggies. The farm is adding a pick-your-own flower option for their CSA members so I anticipate that I will be adding some new  flower art to my upcoming collection, Flower Power.  

Let me leave you with this picture of the tomatoes growing in the high tunnel … rows and rows, reaching up at least 15 feet high.

All photos of animals and vegetables are by Adam Ford of Adam Ford Photography.  He is an amazing photographer who captures the essence of the farm through all the seasons. There are so many that would just make wonderful gifts for anyone who loves vegetables, gardening, farm animals, or just plain nature in all her glory.  

Back when my daughter was expecting their child, needless to say we all were excited. Kara Fizbeauchamp, my daughter-in-law, wrote “When Your First Grandchild is a Farm” for me and framed it within one of her paintings of garlic growing. I wanted to share it with you as the farm has always been a centering place and creative signpost for me.

When Your First Grandchild Is a Farm

by Kara Fitzbeauchamp

A grandparent is intimately involved in the birthing of a farm baby. It’s unclear how long a typical birth takes, but you’re on call or active duty for the duration of the pushing, screaming, crying, and cursing. Unlike the human birth, you will find yourself sharing in the physical exertion, exhaustion, fatigue, and dehydration of transitioning the grandchild from gestation to breathing on its own. But like a human grandchild, once the birth has been crystallized, the adventure has just begun.

Perhaps with the human baby, the grandmother is exempt from the primary duties of general care-taking – being free to focus on spoiling, baking for, playing with, adventuring with, singing to, reading to, and primarily having a wonderful time with the new being while mom and dad nap between feedings, cleaning, diapers, tantrums and vomit.

Three of my favorite photos of my two farm (human) grandchildren

Well not so when your first grandchild is a farm: When it’s hungry for transplants, you’ll be spending hours bent over with your hands in the dirt, plunking one optimistic seedling at a time. When parents have neglected daily hygiene routines, you’ll be out there weeding like there’s no tomorrow. You will find yourself shoveling a much larger volume of feces than a human baby could ever cumulatively collect in diapers. It’ll expect you to build, make, and sew it all sorts of toys, like wash stations, harvest bags, compost bins and flower beds.

Old wash station with harvest bags, and planting onions in the snow with Kara at the old farm.

On top of all this, the farm grandchild is oblivious to the weather, so you’ll have to do these things in the rain, snow, wind, heat, sun and maybe once a hurricane.

Winter at the farm, and the damage from Hurricane Irene at the old farm (photo by Adam Ford).

Yes, you will have more work with a farm grandchild because the farm parents cannot do it all themselves – it’s simply too big. (If someone alerted farm parents to this phenomenon, they may have used better farm birth control).

But just like human grandchildren, the joy it provides melts the burdens of raising it: Weekends outside reveling in the blessings of the earth; reconnecting with dirt, that essential medium transporting us to childhood where life is a series of sandcastles to build and cookies to eat; impressing yourself with your body’s ability to physically toil the way it did when you started a family of human babies; watching the farm grandchild grow and mature into a beautiful, abundant, resilient multi-species system that may one day inspire other farm baby births.

Carrots recently washed waiting to be packed for the cooler. Photo by Adam Ford.

And you’ll eat!! You’ll eat the most rewarding, colorful nourishment because that needy, demanding, high-maintenance grandchild gives back delicious gifts. (This is an advantage of a farm grandchild because you would be in serious trouble for eating a human grandchild.)

Rows and rows of tomatoes growing in one of the long high tunnels. Photo by Adam Ford.

The magic of being a grandparent is that you don’t know who that being will be, but you will love the hell out of it. And lucky you – not everyone gets to grandparent an ecosystem.

The glorious ecosystem that is Evening Song Farm, CSA. Photo by Adam Ford.

 As I mentioned earlier, the farm has been a centering place and creative signpost for me throughout the years. When my job consumed  too many weekends, I would head up there and just weed and weed and weed. Their business card of carrots stacked high at farmers market was my inspiration for the first carrot fabric picture. To this day, the carrot art pieces are my top seller in the On the Farm Veggie Collection.

Interested in purchasing carrots (or another vegetable) for your home or as a gift? Contact me.

Thank you to Adam Ford, an amazing photographer and author. He has captured those littlest details of both the big events and day-to-day doings of the farm over the years. Choosing which photos of his to purchase was so challenging.

And a special thank you to Kara, for the wonderful gift of her art, seen below, and this written piece. 

People at craft fairs often ask me how The Quilted Jardin got started. Well pull up a chair, get a cuppa as they say in the UK, and I’ll tell you a story that crosses the continent and comes full circle.

New York City – Chicago – Upstate New York

The Quilted Jardin is woven from the generations of my family. The threads of my skill and love for sewing reach back to my mother who sewed all my clothes and taught me to sew as I grew up in Chicago, and beyond to my grandmother, a seamstress in New York City in the early 1900s. Living in upstate New York, after years of sewing quilts and snowmen for friends and family, I found myself with that twitch to sew something different.  

My mom adjusting one of the many Halloween costumes she made for me over the years, and a quilt I created

Vermont – Florida – California – Upstate New York:  

 At the 2005 Vermont Quilt Festival, I took a fabric art class called Accidental Landscapes and was hooked. Such amazing results of beaches and mountains without the precision of piecing! The fabric just flowed into vibrant designs from my memory and imagination. My children encouraged me to sell them. I asked my son and his girlfriend to collect seashells on their college spring break to Florida. My daughter, who was working in California as a park ranger, designed my logo. The family stamp of approval was given to the name, and The Quilted Jardin was in business. Jardin is Spanish for garden, honoring my dad’s heritage.

Beach and mountain wall hangings embellished with shells and yarn

Washington – Upstate New York: 

I quickly discovered that I needed to modify the technique I was using.  No matter how I tried, there were spots in the mountain peaks and ocean waves that got missed in the top-stitching process. I shifted to raw-edge machine applique without fusing.  

Translation: instead of sewing the closest possible to an ironed down edge, I sewed what looked like an old-fashioned blanket stitch directly at the edge of the fabric. I also did not iron on a special material to prevent the edges from unraveling a bit. My reasoning was that it would be too much to fuse down all the material I would ever use.

One day my daughter emailed me several photos of a hike in the Northern Cascades Mountains with her environmental education graduate school cohort. These just called out to be transformed into fabric, and the results were beyond my wildest imagination. I was painting with material and threads and embellishing with beads as I combined my daughter’s photographs with the wall hangings I was creating. These custom designed fabric collage landscapes became my next passion.

My daughter’s graduate school cohort on a hike in North Cascades National Park, and my fabric rendition of the photo

Upstate New York and Massachusetts

If I could make beautiful art pieces from landscape photos, I wondered if I could make a fabric pet portrait of an animal. This led me to create a simple fabric collage piece of my cat, Niles. 

Don’t ask me why but I took it to one of my shows in Massachusetts. When asked “Could you do my dog?” I was initially speechless. “Well, I never had done a dog before but I’d be willing to try. What kind of dog do you have?”

I don’t remember what breed it was but I clearly recall thinking, “Oh, fiddlefarts, you’ve never heard of that type of dog before. You might be over your head.” Thinking quickly, I offered “Here are my thoughts. Don’t pay me now. If you like the finished pet portrait, it’s yours and pay me then. If not, that’s fine.” And that was how I started doing fabric pet portraits.    

Birds, houses, landscapes of vacation spots, wedding sites, cherished places (i.e, the site where her son’s ashes were strewn) and even a human portrait – all were done over the years because someone asked if I made it. I learned to reply “Not yet, however I’m willing to try.”

As you can see from this 2012 business postcard, my custom work spanned a variety of subjects.

Vermont- Upstate New York – Vermont: 

By 2012 both adult children had settled in Vermont. My son and his girlfriend (now wife) bought a farm and were growing organic vegetables; my daughter and her boyfriend moved back east, got married, and bought a house an hour south of the farm. I love my trips to the farm and also the southern Vermont trips to see my first grandchild. As my professional job took over more time/energy and the business plummeted to almost nothing, my kids encouraged me to retire early and move to Vermont. While it took 8 months of planning, prepping, and patience, in 2016 in a 3 month fell-swoop, I sold my house, left my job, and moved to a new house in Vermont with a studio on the bottom floor.  

I shifted my niche to specialize in pet portraits and pet memorials. It was the perfect blend of my artistic skill and my gift of empathy and compassion for those navigating the path of loss.   

The farm remains an inspiration for my work. I have a whole collection, ON THE FARM, that celebrates the vibrancy of vegetables and the adorable nature of farm animals.

The two farm dogs, Echo and Callie, appear often in my Instagram feed and Facebook posts and on some art pieces. My daughter has become an integral part of the technical end of the business. My 3 grandchildren help bring forth my playful nature and ability to look at the world through different eyes.    

It feels like I have come home.