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.

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.   

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