Day to day journal of installation, embroidery, and fiber arts created by Susan Lenz
This small mandala was designed for another one of the cut-down frames from an older series of artwork. It was a challenge to work small, to fit the design into the existing frame; and to use another antique crazy quilt scrap/block that was never finished into a quilt. I've had the mechanical drawing compasses for months and months. This is the first time that worked!
This mandala started after receiving an envelop from California. A friend-of-a-friend sent a collection of antique quilt blocks. Most were threadbare but the hand-stitching was amazingly tiny and tight. Whoever started this project knew how to masterfully piece scraps of fabric together. It was my job to figure out what to do with them.
I lay them out on my studio/sanctuary floor and just stared. It seemed that they had once been stitched to some sort of sashing. Perhaps they were once part of a proper quilt top. Perhaps not! Oh the stories some of my materials could tell! Yet, it is up to me to finish that tale!
I played with the blocks until I liked the arrangements for two, nice squares. Then, I just zigzag stitched them together ... flat ... no seam allowance, just "together". Some of the extra blocks were cut to fill in missing patches. Otherwise, I just left the threadbare areas as they were. After all, I knew that I would cover the entire surface with bridal tulle/netting to protect these fragile places. A piece of a damask tablecloth was stapled to a stretcher bar. On top went some cotton batting that I got from an auction. On top of that came the quilt square. On top of that went the bridal tulle/netting. I spent three or day evenings quilting these layers together.
Finally, I was ready to attach my objects. I designed the middle ... out to the row of beer bottle caps. Then, I added the other rings. Last of all, I selected items for the corners. I think this piece turned out very, very well. Happily, I have another square of zigzagged-together blocks for another mandala. I'm already thinking about how it will be entirely different from this one!
This is the first time I haven't put a piece of bridal tulle/netting over the quilt before stitching down any of the objects. Whoever made this small hexie quilt top was an awesome stitcher. The stitches are absolutely TINY. The quilt top was never finished but must have been treasured for years (or at least stored in ideal conditions). Every piece of the fabric was in excellent shape. The thread was still strong too. There was no reason to protect the material by placing it under the tulle/netting. I simply stretched the top over two layers of an old damask tablecloth and started adding the objects.
I bought the collection of army men and their equipment and landscape at the Pickens County flea market. The army men really didn't hold my interest but I adored the trees! They were nice and flat, ready to be part of a mandala! A couple tables away, I found the Sierra Club volunteer button. I knew these things had to go together! The large, green lids came from the grapefruit juice we have almost every day! I'm really pleased how this eco-friendly mandala turned out!
Recently I had Steve cut down several frames that once held another series. Only one or two sold. It was high time to take the artwork out and cut the legs of the frames into usable squares for small Found Object Mandalas. The older work was matted to a standard 16" x 20" and slipped into an appropriate cellophane bag. The price was reduced accordingly. It then became my job to fill the frames. It was a challenge to work small but it was fun.
I've had the antique crazy quilt block for more than two years. It was an odd shape, corners elongated into a four-pointed star. It was in dreadful condition. It was only stitched on a flimsy piece of fabric, but it was beautiful. I couldn't throw it away. Finally, I found a use!
The idea occurred after an attempt to drill holes through the porcelain back of the antique hair brush. It cracked. I was disappointed and almost threw it out. Curiosity got the best of me. I had to find out why the pressure and "stuff" I used behind the brush wasn't adequate to stop the breakage when the drill bit came through. I took a hammer to the rest of the outward curved porcelain in order to remove it from the frame. That's when I found the hard, totally flat piece of wood through which the bristles were stitched in place. There was no way for me to eliminate the space between the wood and the porcelain. It was going to crack. Once all this was removed, the thought occurred to me to use the hair brush frame as ... well ... a picture frame. I had the perfect image! This picture is truly hilarious and a testament to how ridiculous fashion can be during any era! How on earth did this woman manage to keep that silly hat on her head!
The idea for this piece has been floating around in my mind for months. No! That's not quite right! It's been at least two or three years. Why it was never started is a mystery. After all, old teddy bears aren't difficult to find. Many have been passed up before finally purchasing this one for $2.50 at a local thrift shop.
The origin of the idea was a merger of mental images. One came from a story told in my TEDx talk: A young professional walked into my studio and exclaimed, "My great aunt had a jar of buttons just like yours!" To which I followed up, "Of course she did! So did my great aunt!" And to the audience, "So did yours!" Buttons remind us of ancestors who mended, people who saved for a rainy day, and shirts worn by our special beloveds. Buttons are part of the thread weaving through society's family tree. As I add in my TEDx talk: Ordinary! Extraordinary! Old, used buttons have always been symbolic for nostalgia.
The other mental picture is a montage: Part Winnie-the-Pooh, part Paddington, part Smokey the Bear, and part the idea that Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer led Santa's sleigh dispensing toys from the Island of Misfits. Though a bear wasn't featured in this annual holiday television show, one must have been there! I don't need to explain the nostalgia here. It's rather obvious that a teddy bear is emblematic!
So ... finally I bought a teddy bear and started covering its fur with assorted white and off-white buttons. It became immediately apparent that this wasn't going to be as easy or straight-forward as I imagined! Getting the buttons to stay in place was difficult. It took two days before I figured out a process that seemed to work ... knot, attach a button, knot, move to another spot, knot, attach a button ... with plenty of extra stitches/knots to secure them. Plus ... dealing with the overlapping and the way the stuffing seemed to condense as I stitched. Plus ... figuring out how to deal with the joints! I stitched buttons for days on end but it was worth it!
When I started this project, I had no plans for it. Truly, it was just a hair-brained idea ... which might account for the time it remained an idea instead of a work-in-progress. But during the frustrating days of stitching, I started to wonder about how I might show the finished bear. How would it "stand"? Would it just "lay flat"? How would it sit? And if it would sit, on what would it sit? I thought about the three cradles used for my Loss Installation but the little bear was dwarfed inside even the smallest one. But the pillows I made for these cradles looked promising. I then looked around for "anything" that might work. A small nightstand caught my eye. Its tiny drawer was perfect! Yet, my mind continued to roam while more buttons were attached. How could the drawer be embellished without taking too much away from the bear? That's when I thought of the top edge of the drawer as a place for a statement about nostalgia ... something not too sappy. I googled for quotations and fell in love with one sentence by Dr. Seuss but that's copyrighted. I made a list of statements that had no attributions. Steve helped me select this one: The true friends of your childhood were willing to fight monsters with you.
There was even room for the title, my name, and the year! Now, this work is ready to be shown. Where? I have no idea but it will come to me if I continue to ask those "what if" questions!
