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How I clean up studio artwork photographs
Do you photograph your own artwork for archival purposes, to publish in print or online, or to respond for a exhibition call for entry? If so, then you know how important it is to have properly lit, color balanced, and CLEAN photos. And, you know just how hard it is to create them. Too little lighting can obscure detail. Fixing this problem with a longer exposure, higher ISO, and wider aperture bring it’s own problems—noise, shallow depth of field, and possibly blur. Over lighting washes out the image and creates strong shadows.
Even after you find the happy medium, you still need to pay attention to color fidelity. Does your image look like the artwork. Here, lighting matters very much, but so does the color of surrounding objects, and your camera equipment. The answer to this problem is color calibration, which I might address in a future post. For now, just know that I include a ColorChecker target in the first exposure of the day so that I can later adjust the images I shoot to account for the lighting conditions. I’m similarly concerned with the appearance of images on my computer display, so I calibrate my monitor before processing images. Once everything is as I want it. I convert my RAW files to PNG format to bake in the color correction. The resulting file should appear correctly on any other color calibrated monitor, anywhere, on any day.
All of those things address the not-so-simple technology that goes into making an image. But what about the display of the artwork itself. By this I mean, how is the artwork arranged or displayed for the photo session? In the case of textile art, is it wrinkled, drooping, or covered in stray threads? It had better not be. However you photograph your artwork (flat, hanging, “arranged”) do your best to make the surroundings as neutral and undistracting as possible. In the case of artwork intended to be hung on the wall this generally means photograph it against a clean white background.
All of those things are part of the ideal situation. It’s what I’d expect from a professional artwork photographer. However, most of us don’t have that title on our business cards—I certainly don’t. Try though I might, there are always things that need to be cleaned up in my photographs, in particular with the full images (not detail images showing only part of the artwork). Every application or service has it’s strengths and weaknesses, but after much trial and error with Photoshop, Capture One, and other tools, I’ve settled on Procreate on an iPad as my preferred tool for retouching my images.
First, I do all of the color and geometric corrections—color grading, cropping, rotating, etc., then I export the resulting image in PNG format and import it into Procreate. There I’m able to hand paint a mask around the artwork and use it to eliminate the entire background, leaving it pure white. I can also add a soft drop shadow to simulate the natural appearance of the artwork hanging on a wall.
Yes, indeed, this is truly one of the less-than-glamorous parts of being an artist, but it’s worth it. I invest a significant amount of time and energy in creating my artwork. It deserves a photograph that, quite literally, shows it in its best light.
For anyone who is interested in trying my method to see if it might work for you, I’ve created a “simply riveting” 28:43 minute video showing the entire process, which you can watch on YouTube ( https://youtu.be/SylAdwc83uw).
For reference, here are some of the step-by-step instructions that appear in the description of the video. I hope that you find this information helpful.
Layer names and order (top to bottom)
Layer Mask ⎤
Base Layer ⎦
Shadow
Layer Mask ⎤ *these two get pinched together to form the single
Shadow ⎦ "Shadow" layer (above)
Base Mask MASTER
Base Layer MASTER
Outline of steps
Rename the artwork layer "Base Layer MASTER" and lock it.
Duplicate this layer, unlock it, and rename it "Base Layer."
Create a new layer called "Base Mask MASTER" above "Base Layer."
Draw the mask in black on "Base Mask MASTER" and lock it when done.
Add a layer mask to "Base Layer."
Select and copy "Base Mask MASTER."
Select the layer mask on "Base Layer" then select Paste under the Actions menu (wrench).
Check the that mask is functioning correctly and does not need to be retouched.
Create a new layer called "Shadow" and add a layer mask.
Select and copy "Base Mask MASTER."
Select the layer mask on "Shadow" then select Paste under the Actions menu (wrench).
Select the "Shadow" layer and flood fill it with black.
Collapse (pinch together) "Shadow" and its layer mask.
Select the "Shadow" layer and erase the top and left edges of the black shadow rectangle.
Apply a 15% Gaussian blur to the layer.
Select the entire layer (arrow tool) and move it to the right and down (3 keyboard right and down arrow taps).
Set the layer opacity to 30%.
Turn the layers and background on/off as needed to create the desired output files in PNG format (to support transparency):
— Artwork on white
— Artwork on transparent
— Artwork with shadow on white
— Artwork with shadow on transparent
Shadow parameters
Gaussian blur 15%
3 keyboard arrow clicks right and 3 down
Layer opacity 30%
My Article for “Quilting Arts” magazine
I’m delighted to share the news that I have an article in the Summer 2026 issue of “Quilting Arts” magazine, which is available today in digital form and will be arriving shortly on newsstands and in print subscriber’s mailboxes.
We live in a time when all print media are struggling to survive amid the pressures of a challenging economy and changing reading habits. “Quilting Arts” Editor Marcia Young wrote in an email I received today that, “Quilting Arts is not just a magazine. It is a 25-year creative conversation.” I couldn’t agree more.
My article presents step-by-step instructions for the edge finish that I use for wholecloth quilts, especially those that use my own handwoven cloth. This finish is comparable to a float mat finish for works on paper. The result is a neat straight edge that also preserves the beautiful, energetic irregular edge found in handwoven selvedge. It’s also applicable to pieced quilt tops with irregular edges.
The Quilting Daily website, which is the digital presence for “Quilting Arts” said this about my article, “While every issue brings fresh ideas, Russ Little’s approach to preserving the raw, natural edges of his whole cloth quilts feels genuinely new.” All I can say about that is, wow and thank you. I’m smiling.
I’m also smiling because the whole writing and editing process was a wonderful experience thanks to the efforts of the outstanding creative/editorial staff at “Quilting Arts.” Thanks for making me look good!
If you’re interested in becoming a print subscriber, click this link to receive a discount. You can also purchase single copies of this issue and past issues at https://www.quiltingdaily.com/product/quilting-arts-magazine-summer-2026-digital-edition.
#quiltingarts #quiltingartsmagazine #quiltingdaily
A thought or two about “Heated Rivalry”
I finished writing the following essay on February 14 of this year. I finished it and set it aside because, as much as I wanted to ask and answer the question, I didn’t feel like anyone really needed to hear what I had to say. Fast forward to today and it’s June 1, the first day of what has come to be called “Pride Month”. And then, last night was the Canadian Screen Awards presentation at which “Heated Rivalry” took home 16 awards, among them being Best Drama Series, Best Lead Performer (Hudson Williams), Best Supporting Performer (Sophie Nélisse), Best Direction and Writing (Jacob Tierney), and Best Guest Performance (Nadine Bhabha). And finally, I’m currently reading, “We Could be so Good,” by Cat Sebastian in which one of the lead characters voices some of the concerns with unhappy endings that I raise below. Well, it feels like the universe is trying to tell me something. So, here you go. Hope you enjoy my rambling.
—————
Why does “Heated Rivalry” mean so much
to so many folks?
On the way-off chance that you have managed to miss the intense cultural chatter about the Canadian-produced HBO series, “Heated Rivalry,” let me summarize by saying it’s a wonderfully steamy story about gay professional hockey players. It’s sexy, touching, entertaining–everything we need in the world right now. If you have seen it, or better still, if you’ve read and enjoyed the addictive series of books by Racheal Reid on which the show is based, then you will likely bristle at such a reductive, nearly dismissive description. I know I do, and I’m the one that wrote that description.
So, what’s the big deal? I think the answer requires a bit of digression.
My own context
First, I can only speak with any authority about what the books and TV series mean to me in the context of my own lived experience. I will try to express my thoughts about what it might mean to others, but I acknowledge that I will likely be a little out of my lane in stating how others feel. Knowing that limitation might not be enough to stop me from making an occasional generalization. For that I apologize in advance.
As far as my context or my lived experience goes, I’ll start by saying that I’m a 63 year old, white, fairly privileged, cisgender, gay/queer man who’s been married in one way or another to the same man for almost 35 years. For what it’s worth, my date of birth puts me demographically at the tail end of the Baby Boom and the beginning of Gen X. Yes, I was alive when JFK was president. I have always felt different, unsure, out of place, and wary. I’m not alone in having been bullied as a child. I generally perceived other boys as potentially dangerous. Sexuality-based insults–you know the ones–were particularly upsetting because they hit too close to the bone. There’s a particular pain that comes from having someone scream your truth in your face–one that as a child or young adult you don’t yet understand or acknowledge yourself–as the worst possible insult they can think of. But humans adapt. We mold ourselves as best we can to fit in and minimize risk. It’s survival, but it comes at a cost. Trauma, fear, and the perceived necessity of hiding led me to strive to excel so that my character and worth would be beyond reproach, apologize for things I didn’t do, accommodate others needs often at the cost of my own, and carry guilt for anytime that I fell short in any of these areas. Simultaneously, I never perceived invisibility as an entirely bad thing, because invisible meant ignored, which meant probably safe.
Now, sitting on top of this is the great good fortune that I got to go away to college, find my people (not everyone does), start to sort out my sexuality, and come out to, and with, a number of my close friends. It was the early to mid-80’s. We were the first kids to live in the light after the sexual revolution and Stonewall. Of course we formed gay and lesbian student organizations (we had fewer letters back then). Of course we marched in pride parades. But we also lived through the Regan era, Jesse Helms, Fred Phelps, Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson and, more than anything, the AIDS epidemic and the loss of so many good, innocent, and talented people.
I also came of age at a time when, slowly but surely, I could reasonably expect to occasionally see LGBTQ+ representation in literature, film, and theatre. But, what was that representation like? In some cases it was optimistic: boy-meets-boy and they are happy, even if terrible stuff happens to them along the way. Others were darker, realistically portraying discrimination, harassment, family or social rejection, gay bashing, HIV-related illness and death, to name but a few things. Examples that come to mind across the spectrum of film, TV, and stage include productions like Tales of the City, Cabaret, Boys in the Band, Maurice, Paris is Burning, Longtime Companion, Angels in America, The Normal Heart, Bent, Torch Song Trilogy, The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, Thelma and Louise, Boys Don’t Cry, Prick Up Your Ears, Buddies, Philadelphia, My Beautiful Laundrette, and Another Country. Authors like Armisted Maupin, Paul Monette, Gordon Merick, Filice Picano, David Leavitt, Larry Kramer, and Patricia Nell Warren published work that included or focused on LGBTQ+ characters. These writers were following in the footsteps of literary giants like Gore Vidal, James Baldwin, E. M. Forrester, Christopher Isherwood, Jack Kerouac, Mary Renault, and Evelyn Waugh. These lists are woefully inadequate, male biased, and largely reflect my own reading and viewing.
The visibility that these works provided was, at the time, nothing short of amazing. To see a glimpse of someone like oneself on screen or in print is to dispel the notion that one is alone in the world. However, these often tragic characters also conditioned me to watch LGBTQ+ characters with a sense of trepidation as I waited for the shoe (and then the other shoe) to drop. In the Tales of the City series, Michael meets the love of his life who then dies of AIDS. Torch Song Trilogy is a testament to strength, resilience, and authenticity, but Arnold’s great love, Alan, dies in a gay bashing. In Maurice, Maurice is rejected by his college love who decides to live as a straight man and enjoy all of the attendant social benefits. After a failed attempt at an early form of conversion therapy Maurice meets Alec, but the two can only find happiness by withdrawing from society and becoming reclusive woodcutters. Don’t even get me started on Boys in the Band. Please don’t misunderstand me. I don’t question the value of these books and films, the motivation of their creators, or the inherent truths that they present. But couldn’t we get an innocent happy ending, even if life often isn’t like that?
In more recent years we have seen the presentation of LGBTQ+ characters living their unique, complicated, and often challenging lives, while still finding acceptance for their truth and authenticity. Here I’m thinking of things like Will and Grace, Looking, Queer as Folk, Big Eden, Love Simon, Heartstopper, Red, White, and Royal Blue, and now Heated Rivalry. There are strong elements of fantasy in all of these cases, and there’s no denying that there was also Brokeback Mountain and The Laramie Project, which deals with the brutal murder of Matthew Shepard.
Enter Heated Rivalry
To put it very succinctly, I feel seen. No, I’m not a hockey player. I’m not Russian, Canadian, neurodivergent, or attempting to live my life in the spotlight. Quite the contrary. But, as is true of all performing art, we aren’t required to be the character to find common ground and experience empathy. To me, good writing grabs the reader early on, provides good scene development, but is primarily character-driven; and those characters need to be three-dimensional, fleshy beings. They need to have a back story, to connect with each other, to have both strength and vulnerability, and to grow. I think the whole Game Changer book series and the Heated Rivalry TV series check all of those boxes.
But still, why the phenomenal reaction and why has it touched me? It’s not just the sense of feeling seen in the sense that there are characters on the page or the screen to whom I can relate. It’s also that a writer and director thought that those characters deserved portrayal AND that they deserved a challenging but ultimately happy story line.
Catharsis
Aristotle used the term catharsis to describe the purging of emotions experienced through music or drama. [2] Psychologists embrace this concept of empathetic release through art therapy, role play, or cinema therapy. [3] Whatever your preferred term, we’re talking about the idea of art, literature, theatre, or film presenting characters and stories that connect with the lived experiences of their viewers. In seeing characters, events, and emotions like our own shown back to us we are given the chance to see that we are not alone or that there are alternatives to our own negative experiences. Seeing those characters evince strength and courage in the face of adversity can inspire us to do the same. Seeing a character’s behavior reflect a sex-positive outlook on life, one that doesn't stigmatize sex, supports mental health. And, seeing those characters struggle in ways that we have struggled and still get a happy ending is just the sort of tear-jerking, feel-good experience that can, in small ways, begin to rewire some of the stored trauma that we carry around every day. [1]
Healthy role models
There is another aspect to this show that I’ve heard presented as being of significant appeal to women, but one to which I can also relate: the portrayal of men as emotionally available and vulnerable. Anyone who has felt the necessity to hide their feelings, mask their emotions, or suppress an essential aspect of their identity can probably relate to the feeling of relief or release that comes from seeing a character speak their truth. Looking at a character on screen and saying, “Yes!” can be a powerful affirmation.
I believe that we are all taught social norms for gender, class, intellect, emotional regulation–every aspect of life. The male archetypal roles of warrier, hero, provider, protector, and conqueror are negatively contrasted with weakness, sensitivity, nurturing and such. This binary contrast of jock-nerd, hero-weakling, and let’s face it, top-bottom, is society’s way of coercively shaping men. The same holds true for mental health. You are either strong and “normal”, or weak and going to pieces because of anxiety, depression, PTSD, ADHD, autism spectrum, or whatever other aspect of your life might not fit the pre-conceived model of perfection. Worse still, there are financial and social reward systems that further incentivize hiding or masking nonconformity with set archetypes. So yes, it’s a powerful thing to see the strong character, Ilya, gradually open up about his family trauma, confess his mental health struggles, and be the first one to say, “I love you”. There’s also victory in Shane’s brimming tears that break through his seemingly constant emotional control. The tender scene where he comes out to his girlfriend, Rose, and ultimately confesses that “I kinda prefer being the hole rather than the peg,” gets me every time (https://www.instagram.com/reels/DTktFOqDxOg).
Pulling this all together
Having written all of this, I’m still challenged to tie all of these thoughts up in a neat package. The best I can manage is that, while the books and TV series have been described as “cute smut about hockey players” (by the author herself), I find that it offers more to folks who are looking for more.[4]
To LGBTQ+ folks who grew up with media representations of people like themselves experiencing violence, cruelty, discrimination, or loneliness, this story, which is in turns fun, funny, sexy, emotional, and raw, invites the reader/viewer into a kind of restorative, cathartic experience as they walk with the characters through life events–self realization, coming out, and falling in love–that ultimately seem to lead toward health and happiness. I’m not saying that this is a documentary or that all of life fits into nice little happy ending packages. This is fiction intended for entertainment.
To people looking for role models, Reid’s characters offer examples of how people–men in this case and perhaps in particular–can work to reject some of their taught and learned behavior (stoicism, aggression, emotional distancing) and form trust relationships that allow them to more fully experience and express their feelings.
As with so many good, helpful, and happy things, there is another side to the coin, and one that deserves noting. As I said, this is fiction. Enjoy it, and take from it all of the positive things that you can. However, I believe that it’s important to distinguish between drawing inspiration from fictional characters and adopting them as yardsticks against which to measure real people. You might be looking for someone like Shane, Ilya, Scott, or Kip. Or, you might be wishing that a person in your life was more like your favorite character. This can be a short, direct route to a dark and disappointing place. We can only regulate our own behavior and strive to support others in doing the same for themselves. I try my best to love my friends and family for who they are and who they aspire to be. So, let’s all enjoy fiction for the escape, insight, and catharsis that it offers, while still acknowledging that real life is both more complicated and mundane, and that it runs on a completely different timeline.
—Russ Little, 14 February 2026
References
[1] van der Kolk, Bessell, “The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma.” 2015.
[2] “Catharsis.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catharsis, accessed on 13 February 2026.
[3] O’Bryan, Dr. Amanda Ph.D., LPCA, “What Is Movie and Cinema Therapy & How Does It Work?”, 30 March 2023. by https://positivepsychology.com/movie-cinema-therapy, accessed on 12 February 2026.
[4] https://www.rachelreidwrites.com, accessed on 14 February 2026.
Image: https://press.wbd.com/us/property/heated-rivalry/images, accessed 1 June 2026.
A word about prostate health and my treatment journey
DISCLAIMER: This statement lives on my art studio website so that I can link to it from various social media channels. If you’re not interested in this topic, which has nothing to do with art, then please skip to the next thing in your reading queue. HOWEVER, if you are a person who has a prostate gland, regardless of your gender identity, or if you love someone who has a prostate, then I hope you will take a few moments to read my story, which I promise will not be graphic or gory. Also, I am not a medical professional. I’m sharing my experience and making a good faith attempt to get the facts correct, but I am not an authoritative source.
My goal here is to talk to other prostate owners about a topic that we just don’t talk about because, yuck, who talks about that? The subject is what happens in the bathroom, or rather what doesn’t happen. If you find that it seems like it takes a little extra effort to pee and that 10 minutes later you’re ready to go again, that might be a sign that your prostate is enlarged. It could also mean that there is something else blocking the flow of urine out of your body. Painful urination, stopping and starting, weak stream, and bladder pain are among a collection of symptoms collectively referred to as LUTS (lower urinary tract symptoms). They are also causes for concern that you should discuss with a doctor. OK. There. I said it.
I will spare you my own medical history, including all of the details of my urological history. It is sufficient to say that about 7 years ago I had pretty much all of those symptoms. My primary doc referred me to a urologist, and after an exam and some tests he diagnosed me with BPH.
I knew that I wasn’t alone. A web page maintained by the Harvard Medical School states that “By age 60, half of all men will have an enlarged prostate, a condition also known as benign prostatic hyperplasia, or BPH. By age 85, the proportion reaches 90%. (https://www.health.harvard.edu/mens-health/the-growing-problem-of-an-enlarged-prostate-gland, accessed on 2/28/2025). Simply having some degree of prostate enlargement does not mean that you have acute symptoms, but it’s definitely something to keep an eye on.
I had then, and still have, a normal PSA level (Prostate Specific Antigen, a simple blood test to screen for prostate cancer), so there was no reason to suspect prostate cancer. At what age and how often to have a PSA test is driven by a number of factors. The Johns Hopkins website does a great job of laying out a combination of age, family, and health history risk factors that determine if it’s annually, less frequently, or more. (https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/conditions-and-diseases/prostate-cancer/prostate-cancer-age-specific-screening-guidelines#:~:text=For%20most%20men%2C%20every%20two,less%20(or%20more)%20frequently, accessed on 2/28/2025). What you need to know here is that you should get tested and take responsibility for remembering when you should be tested again. Don’t just leave it to your possibly overworked primary care doc. You can be relatively asymptomatic and peeing just fine but still have an elevated PSA. Prostate cancer is a silent killer of men.
Back to my story. I started taking Tamsulosin (Flowmax) after my first urology appointment and it was like turning back the clock. Everything was working again. I took the pills and went in for an annual urology checkup, which wasn’t much more than talking to a nurse practitioner and having a blood test to track PSA. That changed in late 2024. I started having more of those symptoms. During my annual checkup I had a bladder scan (a 30 second ultrasound that measures how much urine is in the bladder). Apparently there was enough that the tech raised her eyebrows. Why was this surprising to me? DENIAL. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’d been having problems for 6 months or more. I just didn’t want this to be happening so I pretended it wasn’t. We doubled my dosage of Tamsulosin and that made a slight difference but not much, and certainly not enough.
So more tests, a couple of consultations, and I made the decision to have Aquablation treatment to remove a portion of my prostate. I’m not going to go into all of the details of my particular case. If there are folks who want to hear about the pre-op testing, the hospital experience, and the post-discharge stuff, then maybe we can find some way to have that conversation on some other platform. What I’d like you to know is that it wasn’t as bad as I feared. I did have some post operative issues related to how my body reacts to general anesthesia, but it resolved over a couple of days. According to the surgeon the procedure all went according to plan. I’ve had some discomfort, but nothing that I would call big pain. It’s all been managed with Tylenol. As of this writing it’s been a week since surgery and I think I’m on track to have a good outcome overall.
Part of my recovery is my prostate healing from having about 40% removed. Part of it is my bladder muscles recovering from being strained for months. This last bit is super important. Big or small prostate, unless you’re also dealing with prostate cancer, your bladder is the real issue here. If you ignore these symptoms and injure your bladder muscles it can lead to some really unpleasant things that I expect we’d all like to avoid–things like incontinence and dependance on catheters to empty your bladder. Those symptoms if, left untreated, can be temporary or permanent even after surgery.
Nobody wants to have surgery, but this stuff is a matter of preserving your health and quality of life–and it could be a matter of life and death.
Here’s what I want you to take away from my experience:
Get your PSA level tested.
Go to your doctor or a urologist if you notice any change in your peeing experience. Don’t put it off.
Think objectively about those changes and don’t pretend that it’s no big deal when something is off. Unless you’re a medical professional with expertise in this area, you are not qualified to diagnose or self treat, regardless of how good you are at Googling. Ask me how I know?
Be brave. If surgery ends up being part of your journey then it is very likely not going to be as bad as you imagine. The longer you wait and imagine what it might be like, the worse things get and the more psychological damage you inflict on yourself. I’m squeamish, bashful, and don’t have an especially high tolerance for pain. I got through this. I do not regret my decision to have surgery. You can do it too.
And finally, do what I’m doing. Don’t be afraid to talk to your friends who have prostates. They might be a good source of information or comfort. Perhaps even more importantly, you might be the person who makes them think twice and talk to their own doctors. You could be the one who starts your friend on a path that saves their life!
See my artwork at McLean Project for the Arts
I’ve been invited to participate in a curated group exhibition of noted local textile artists at the McLean Project for the Arts. The show, titled “Pieced Together We are Whole,” was curated by Nancy Sausser and includes quilted textile compositions by Megan Koeppel, Susan J. Lapham, Dominie Nash, John Paradiso, Imani W. Russell, and me. No exaggeration, I’ve been sick since Christmas day and I wasn’t sure if I’d make it to the opening. Now, three weeks on, I’m feeling much better, not a danger to others, and looking forward to the opening reception tomorrow night. Here are all of the particulars for the planned events related to the show. Local folks often ask me, “Where can I see your artwork?” and the answer is almost always “Nowhere nearby.” If you live in the DC/Metro area this is a great and somewhat rare opportunity to see my work close to home.
McLean Project for the Arts is located in the McLean Community Center at 1234 Ingleside, Ave, in McLean, VA (a couple miles from Tysons, right off of Route 123, near the intersection with Old Dominion Drive). The gallery is on the second floor. It’s really a lovely space.
Exhibition dates:
Jan 16 - Feb 22, 2025
Events:
Thursday, Jan 16, 7-9 PM Opening reception
Saturday, Jan 25, 11 AM, Artist Talk
Tuesday, Feb 11, 11 AM, Tea & Talk (more time with the artists)
Looking back at 2024
2024 has been a whirlwind, an emotional roller coaster, and a watershed year all at the same time. Certainly every year brings change; that’s inevitable. But, some years bring more than others. In my opinion the election was a disaster, and one that we’ll be unpacking, processing, and trying to rise above for many years to come. I just want to acknowledge that because it’s something that affects every one of us. But, in this look back over the last 12 months I’m going to focus on my year in the studio.
I’m not doing this to strut around saying “Look at me.” Instead, this writing helps me reflect on the plans I made and how they do or don’t line up with what came to pass. This reflection is the first step toward contemplating what comes next in 2025. And, it’s also a nice way of sharing an update with those who haven’t been along for the entire ride. Be forewarned: because I’m mostly writing for myself this post will likely be on the longer and wordier side. Feel free to skim or just look at the pictures. :-)
For many years I’ve tried to hold the month of January as a time to think and explore new things. I’ve found that asking “What if…,” and “I wonder…” questions without focus on making any particular art or completing any specific task quite often reveals a path forward that I might not have considered if I had just charged ahead. Of course there’s no reason for this to happen at the end of the calendar year. I could do this at the Summer Solstice or some other arbitrary time, but January works quite well. Curiosity and learning keep me engaged through the darkest days of winter when so many of us struggle, and that’s helpful.
Best laid plans
Early in the year several ACN colleagues and I participated in a short workshop offered by a fellow ACN member titled, “Dream Big.” Our goal was to visualize a point in the future—five years, ten out—and describe in one page of writing what that looked like. How was our work/life balance? What was happening in the studio? What goals had we achieved? Where were we living? All of those things. We then assigned relative values of importance to those things and began listing what it would take to get from where we are now to where we want to be then. We also turned those areas of interest, goals, and tasks into a Venn diagram for the coming year. It was a visual representation of the size, content, overlap, competition, and conflict between the various parts of our lives. For me it proved to be a great way to distinguish between the things that must happen, those things that are achievable, and those that are aspirational. Have you ever written a way-too-long to-do list? If so, then you likely know the value of finding focus. I can’t say that the relative success of 2024 is due entirely to the Dream Big exercise, but I will say that narrowing my focus and placing my projects in a longer term context seemed to keep me on track.
Interaction #5. Hand dyed cotton, hand woven, machine quilted, embellished with hand spun yarn and buttons.
Weaving
My January curiosity this year led me to take a 2-day intro to weaving class at a local fiber shop that’s walking distance from home (well, not really in January). I went into it with no expectation other than I would learn new things—I’d never woven anything other than a potholder in elementary school—and I was absolutely not interested in producing anything. The instructor said that we would be weaving a scarf, which she all but guaranteed we would absolutely love when it was finished. Much to my surprise that’s exactly what happened—and I loved the weaving process and the flow state that happened as I worked. By May I had added an 8-shaft Schacht Baby Wolf floor loom to the studio and since then I’ve been searching for a balance between quilt making and weaving.
I knew going into the loom purchase that this was a problem/opportunity that I’d be wrestling with.
Was I becoming a weaver? Yes.
Was I going to let the weaving influence the quilting? Maybe.
Could I somehow combine the two? Again, maybe, but was that a good idea.
Over several months I created four finished art pieces that are handwoven, quilted, and include additional embroidered details. I learned a lot along the way, but in the back of my mind I kept wondering if I was trying to drive a square peg into a round hole. I believe that the answer is “So far yes, somewhat.” I had a good critique with David Hornung and came away thinking that, although the pieces like Interaction #5 (right) are visually interesting, there might be a bit of a struggle going on between the complex will weaving pattern and the graphic composition.
I’m not unhappy with any of the woven quilted pieces, but I think I’m going to explore some other ways of working with my handwoven cloth that might not include quilting. I’m particularly interested in Moorman inlay, and I think that might be my January exploration for 2025.
Spinning
As if the weaving wasn’t enough, I took a one-evening drop spindle spinning class because I was curious about swimming a little bit further upstream from cloth. Now that I could make my own cloth, could I also make the yarn that I used to weave? The drop spindle taught me humility. I know some people love those things, and I’m not one of them. I really did try. I found myself thinking that this was something that I could live well without, but I still couldn’t shake the interest. So I bit the bullet and bought an e-spinner, which is an electric spinning “wheel”. There is no wheel, per se. It’s just an electric motor that rotates a flyer and bobbin. I figured this was compact, easily resold if I hated it, and my last chance. Either I was going to succeed or I was going to make my peace with not being a spinner. Of course I loved it. I spun like a fiend, bought a raw fleece fresh off the sheep at the Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival, which I then cleaned, dyed, combed, spun, and wove, Since I’m really not interested in learning to raise or shear sheep, I have likely arrived as far up the textile supply chain as I’m willing to go. In September I purchased a Schacht Matchless spinning wheel. It’s a proper double treadled dual drive wheel. It’s been a real joy, but as with so many things, spinning is something that’s easy to learn and a lifetime journey to master.
Natural dyeing
If there was a wrong turn or a time when I should have paid closer attention to my Dream Big plan, then I would have to say it was when I signed up for a 12-week online class on using natural dyes. It wasn’t an entirely misguided adventure. I have lots of friends who’ve done the same course and raved about it. Natural dyes (those based on plant material, minerals, and insects (yes, bugs) produce some beautiful, complex colors. I’ve spent years developing some level of facility (can I say mastery?) with fiber reactive MX dyes, and I’m applying that learning to washfast acid dyes for wool. Both of these are chemical dyes. Well, let’s cut to the chase. The natural dyes take a lot of time and effort. They’re also a bit of a mess. Yes, the colors are nice enough, but after 12 weeks of work (1-2 days each week) I can now say that I am not a natural dye person. Give me some good ole better living through chemistry.
Collage
As autumn approached so did a long-planned-for workshop at the Crow Timber Frame Barn with David Hornung, this one billed as “Collagapaloosza”, which was a somewhat ridiculous name for a 2-week collage open studio workshop. I and most of my fellow students were a cohort of long-standing color, composition, and collage students of David’s. We worked side by side, listened to lectures, ate wonderful food, had stimulating conversations, and enjoyed the beauty of the farm. In terms of artwork, we all did our own thing under David’s watchful eye.
I was anxious going into the class because I hadn’t been working on collage or painting all year. I was really into my weaving thing and I wanted to do work that would feed that. I just wasn’t sure how that was going to work. I told David ahead of time that I was planning to explore weaving with paper and he was supportive. So that’s what I did. The result was not what I expected. I arrived with a couple of test compositions that I’d used to work out the method, adhesive, etc. For the first few days I produced compositions of woven structures that visually hovered over the background. By the end of the two weeks (below) I was producing a series of geometrically similar compositions, each playing with some aspect of color or contrast, AND the contrast was getting lower and lower. It was interesting because I’ve never stuck so closely with a single idea for that long in a workshop. So, what began with anxiety about how I would reconcile different aspects of my studio life ended with both learning and some interesting ideas that I think I can apply to weaving.
Workshop collages on the wall at the end of week 2.
Exhibiting
It’s been a good year for exhibiting artwork, and it feels like I’ve received more acceptances than rejections—though I try not to count.
“Interaction #3” was included in “Artist as Quiltmaker XX” in Oberlin, OH.
Mark Rengers Gallery in Sewickley, PA selected 8 of my pieces to include in a two-person show titled, “Making Me.”
Art Quilt Network shows continue to tour and I just had two pieces juried into the latest show, “ReVision.” One of those pieces is "Interaction #5” (above), which is one of the new handweaves.
And, the biggest news of all is that I’ll be returning to Quilt National in 2025 for the third time with “More Than Black & White #4.”
There are other things in the planning stages for 2025, so I’m feeling pretty optimistic.
A friend shared an important thought recently (and I’m paraphrasing here):
We make art because it’s our imperative, our calling. We strive to show it because it’s how we connect with the world. Rejection letters hurt, but we dust ourselves off and keep going because that’s what artists do.
Now what? And why?
I will definitely repeat the “Dream Big” planning work that I did in January 2024. Weaving will be my focus in January, but also beginning some new digital paintings that will become quilted textile. Earlier this year I was anxious about weaving displacing quilt making. I spent time trying to figure out how to make quilted artwork out of handwoven cloth. Now I feel that I might be moving toward two different modes of work coexisting in the studio and influencing each other without having to BE each other.
A video tour of my studio
I’ve run into a couple of situations in the last year or so where I wanted to give someone a look at my studio but didn’t have recent pictures or video available. I’ve finally gotten around to making a short video that shows the state of things as of late July 2024. Don’t be fooled by the relative tidiness of the place. I’m sorry to say that there’s usually a good deal more clutter. I hope you enjoy the tour.
Interaction #3 @ Artist as Quiltmaker XX
“Interaction #3” is included in Artist as Quiltmaker XX on view at Firelands Association for the Visual Arts (FAVA) in Oberlin, OH. The show runs 11 May - 7 July, 2024. Can’t make it to Ohio? You can still see the artwork included in this outstanding biennial show on the website prepared by the show organizers. It’s a feast for the eyes, and I’m so happy to have my artwork included among so much other outstanding work.
Spinning off in new directions
For years I’ve observed that some of my best teachers have been the ones who mixed theory and practice, but also encouraged “what if” thinking. To be sure, there are some student curiosities that need to be discouraged. For example, “I wonder what will happen if I mix these chemical solutions?” can lead to danger, injury, or worse. Other what-ifs might be a waste of time or materials. From my own area of study, if someone said to me, “I wonder what would happen if I tried to dye this cotton fabric with acid dye?” I would say that’s an interesting question, and the answer is that nothing useful would happen because acid dyes don’t react with cotton or other cellulose fibers so you’d get a stain, but not a permanently set color. BUT, there are bunches upon bunches of other questions that a curious person might investigate that could lead to some profound experiential learning, especially under the guidance of a good teacher—and, I am a curious person.
My first full skein of handspun yarn. It’s 2-ply merino, corriedale, and mystery wool, variable in size, but mostly chunky overall. I’m working on spinning thinner.
Sometimes my curiosity leads me astray. Sometimes it leads to interesting personal discoveries that alter my path in ways that ultimately alter my destination. In a previous article I wrote about learning to weave on a rigid heddle loom and how I was experimenting with incorporating handwoven fabric into quilted compositions. Back in March—on St Patrick’s Day to be precise—I took a 2-hour class on how to spin wool fiber using a drop spindle. It was interesting, but nothing that left me saying, “Oh I need to do more of this.” Leap forward a couple of weeks and was struggling to get the hang of that drop spindle because, one: I remained curious about making my own yarn for weaving or knitting; and two: I was not going to let that drop spindle get the best of me.
I got to the point where I was able to spin with the drop spindle, but it was uncomfortable, awkward, and really slow. There are people who absolutely love drop spindles. Personally, I felt as though I needed one or two more arms to manage the fiber, spindle, and drafting. I was at a crossroad—not quite Frost’s roads diverging in a yellow wood, but a decision point nonetheless. Was I curious enough to continue, or should I find someone out there who would like to adopt my spindle and fiber? I was curious…
Leap forward another couple of weeks and we come to today, just about a month after my first spinning class. I now own an Ashford E-Spinner 3 (an electric motor-driven compact spinning wheel that’s smaller than a shoebox), several bags of wool fiber, a blending board, and various other spinning sorts of tools. I’ve taken 3 online video-based classes on spinning and fiber prep, and I can safely say that I’m down a rabbit hole. Oh yeah, and based on some email’s from FedEx, I think my Schacht Baby Wolf 8 Shaft loom is arriving this week. This my be more of a rabbit warren than a mere hole. This is what I get from indulging my curiosity.
My husband might see this situation differently, but from my perspective, for years I have resisted many of my curiosities—not all , but many. My general M.O. has been to wonder about something, read about it, ruminate, then convince myself that I’ve already got too much on my plate and I need to focus on my “stated mission.” That mission—if we can use that term—has been something like, “I’m a fiber artist and the majority of my artwork finds it’s final expression as 2-D quilted textile compositions.” So, studying color theory and dyeing were things I did in pursuit of better fabric. That’s true, but I also love both of those things simply as areas of exploration and learning. I began making abstract collage compositions on paper, and again, these were in pursuit of better textile compositions. In my mind, everything needed to somehow flow into the art quilt process. As a result, anything that seemed to be a “square peg“ was dismissed.
For the last few months I’ve been somewhat unconsciously trying a different approach: follow my curiosity and figure out if or how it fits later, AND don’t dismiss something out of hand because of the possible consequences. In other words, I’m trying to embrace an even deeper what-if. I draw the line a sheep shearing, but maybe someday I’ll tackle a fleece (the raw wool right off of the sheep that needs to be cleaned and combed or carded). The Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival is in a couple of weeks!
Bottom line: Maybe I am evolving into an artists whose yarn, woven cloth, art quilts, and collages inform one another and reflect both my past and my curiosity. I hope there is (or will be) a clear voice and aesthetic that connects all of these parts together.
I hope that you too are allowing yourself to follow your curiosity. It might lead you down a short side street or onto exciting new paths!
Making the most of naïveté
This article originally appeared in a slightly shorter form on the Art Cloth Network blog on 16 March 2024
I'm a new weaver. I've got a total of 5 warps and about 10 yards of cloth to my name, but I'm hooked. I've resisted weaving in the same way that I resisted knitting for so many years. I really did NOT need another needle thing in my bag of tricks to distract me. I have a friend in heaven--a very accomplished weaver--who prophesied this years ago and I know he's laughing now*. I'm not entirely sure that my resistance was the wisest course. But to everything there is a season, and perhaps this season (my 61st if you count by years) is the one. I'm now a passionate knitter and this weaving thing... I can't get over how quickly color and pattern develop as the shuttle flies back and forth and how much there is to learn.
All that being so, I am, as I said, a new weaver. With that comes a whole host of challenges--tension problems, unintended floats, and wonky selvedges, which are the left and right sides of the cloth that should be straight and neat but only become so with practice and mastery. The photo above is an example of a wonky selvage indeed.
I'm working on a project that incorporates lengths of handwoven cloth, and as I prepared to join those pieces to make a larger whole I realized that those wonky edges posed a problem. I could cut them straight, but even to the untrained eye that waviness of the warp threads close to the edges would be obvious. Or, I could cut farther into the width of the cloth, sacrificing something like 25% of the total width to get to a straight edge that lined up with straight warp threads. Or, I could look at my bouncing baby cloth and love it for who and what it is--early work by a student--and honor the naïveté of the line formed by that wonky edge.
That's precisely what I'm doing. I'm following the natural edge of the cloth, finishing it, and even accentuating it with additional stitch.
I pulled out a warp thread somewhere between 1/2 - 3/4 of an inch in for each selvage then marked that line clearly with long stitches in black pearl cotton. I then turned a hem along that marked line, basted it in place, and pressed. All of that you can see in the image above. The image below show progress on a hand stitched overcast finish on the hem using hand dyed 6-strand embroidery floss.
It's an entirely innocent line and an unintended mark that has a power of its own. Though the maker is hardly young, perhaps the mark has some youthfulness in the sense of one in the early stages of a journey.
Wherever you are in your own artistic journey, don't lose sight of the horizon, but honor the work that you are making now, if only because it is a milestone along the way.
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* Randy, I hope you really are watching, listening, and laughing. You dropped so many pebbles in the pond, and the ripples continue to spread with no sign of stopping. You are remembered, cherished, and deeply missed.