Falling, falling, gone…or not

Before I moved to New York City, I didn’t understand just how chancy weather can be.  Growing up in Los Angeles (where the weather is almost always the same — sunny), I assumed that when fall came, the leaves all turned color and stayed that way for a while.  Then winter came bringing snow, and the snow stayed all white and pristine until spring arrived.

Not so.

Fall color?  If you happen to get a good freeze, everything will magically turn colorful practically overnight and you get a solid blanket of flaming reds, golds and oranges, interspersed with a few everygreens for contrast.  If the cool-down is slower, some of the trees will turn, while others remain green.  Get hit with a hard rainstorm or strong wind in the middle of the shift, and some trees will lose their leaves before others change color.  That blanket of fall color looks rather frayed around the edges.

Same goes for snow.  Here in Manhattan, sometimes we get it, sometimes we don’t.  When we do, the stores in midtown rush to clear it off the sidewalks, and within a couple of hours you hardly know it was there, except for the grey slush in the gutters.  Fortunately, we have parks, and I live across the street from one of them.  Here the snow stays longer, though it is soon trampled with a melange of footprints of various species — mostly human, canine and squirrel.  Often the snow melts away completely between storms, and we are left with mud.  Morgan (my dog) gets a lot of baths in the winter.  (Good thing she’s really cooperative about them.)

So, I have learned to recognize and savor those moments when the weather is stunningly beautiful: A gentle spring rainfall that brings up the smell of earth. The first night of summer that is warm enough not to need a sweater as I dine at an outdoor cafe.  The two or three days when the tree outside my window is golden and still has all its leaves. The first snowfall.  The first crocuses of spring peeking through the snow.  A perfect rainbow.

Creative ideas are like these moments of glorious weather: they arrive suddenly, almost unexpectedly, and can fade away in an instant.  Unless we save them.

In 2001 a sketchbook changed my life.  Up to that time, busy with music and photography careers, I continually pushed new ideas to the back of my mind.  They weren’t relevant to what I was doing at the time, and I figured that I would get to them “someday.” 

Then, in the space of a few months, everything about my life changed.  The economy tanked, I lost my job, the photography business came to screeching halt, I moved to a new home, 9/11 happened.  Every assumption I had made about what I would do with my life was swept off the table.  Unemployed, with time on my hands, I decided to do one of those things I had shoved to the back burner for years: I enrolled in a ceramics class.   (Thank you, Visa.)

It was as if someone had unlocked a closet in my mind, or had turned up the heat on that back burner.  In the next days and weeks, ideas came flooding into my mind. I bought a sketchbook (and then another, and another) and wrote them down.

Many of those ideas are still in the sketchbooks — time being what it is, I haven’t had the opportunity to develop all of them.  But it was the act of taking those ideas seriously that changed everything.  Listening to the inspiration that was coming to me, writing down the ideas, led to choosing which ones to pursue.  Each idea I acted on was like a door that opened to a new series of ideas.  Little did I imagine at the time I bought that first sketchbook to draw pottery that it would lead to where I am now — a published book and another on the way, traveling around the country teaching quilting, and more.

Don’t let your ideas slip away like fleeting moments of beautiful weather.  Christmas is coming — ask for a sketchbook as a gift (or buy one for yourself).  It might just change your life.

 

The color of light

I walked into my living room yesterday and  it seemed as though I was in a space I had never been in before.  Something was suddenly, vastly different from every other day I have spent in that space.

It took me a minute or two to realize what it was: the leaves on the tree outside my window had changed from green to gold.  Not only was I seeing a different color in the windows, but when the light shone on the golden tree, the light in the room turned to gold.  Everything took on a magical glow, everything looked different.  This happens for what seems just a moment each year — the tree turns gold overnight, and then within a few days the leaves have all fallen.  It happens so suddenly and lasts such a short time that it always catches me by surprise.

In my previous career as a photographer, I learned to pay attention to the color of light, because, as I was reminded yesterday, different types of light have different colors. 

Sunlight changes with the time of day and the time of year: sunrise and sunset are often red or pink.  Midday is clear and white.  Cloudy days are bluish.  Autumn days are gold.  Winter days with snow are white.

Indoors, tungsten light (from a regular lightbulb) is reddish orange.  Flourescent light is green.  If you have old photographs, look through photographs taken indoors without flash and you’ll likely find some reddish ones and some greenish ones.  It was because of the lightbulbs in the room.  (Most digital cameras today are set to automatically compensate for the type of light in the room, so digital photos will rarely show this.)

“Daylight” lightbulbs have bluish glass that helps to correct the red emitted by the tungsten bulb. Special color-corrected lights such as Ott lights are designed to emit a pure, white light that simulates daylight.  These are the best choices for room and task lighting in your sewing room or studio when daylight isn’t available.

Even with “daylight” bulbs, light reflecting off painted walls in a room will cast that color over other colors in the room.

The color of light affects how you see color in the fabrics you choose for your quilts.  When choosing fabrics, look at all the colors together in the same light.  When you go to the fabric store, take the fabrics you are considering, so you see the new fabrics in the same light with the ones you’ve already chosen.  Look at fabrics in daylight in the middle of the day for the truest color.  Also look at them in the room where you will use or display the quilt to see how the light there affects the colors, along with the paint on the walls and the other colors in the room.

Learn to recognize the effect of light on the colors in your quilts and you’ll become more confident in your fabric choices — whether you are just beginning or are already a master quilter.

 

Don’t sell yourself short

My best friend is short-selling her dream home.  In the current economic climate, the beautiful home she spent years planning, building and decorating has become such a burden that she just wants it gone, the burden off her shoulders.  She considers herself lucky that she has a buyer at all and won’t go into foreclosure.

I’ve used the phrase “don’t sell yourself short” hundreds of times in my life, and never understood the meaning of it until now.  It means, literally, accepting less than you are worth.

When I teach a quilting class, I have one rule: No one gets to say anything bad about themselves or anyone else.  I have a list of words that are banned, words like “stupid”, “idiot”, “challenged” and so on.  These words take away our worth and power.  If we use them on ourselves, we give it away: we sell ourselves short.

Short-selling is a survival tactic.  Better to sell the house for what you can get than to let it go into foreclosure and have nothing.  Better to agree with the abusive husband so he’ll stop hitting right now than end up in the hospital (or worse).

But don’t let the survival tactic become a lifestyle.

Our bodies have something called the fight-or-flight reaction.  When we’re threatened, the adrenalin rushes and  resources are directed away from immune, digestive and other systems to the muscles and reflex systems so that we are prepared to fight for our lives.  This is a good thing, for a few moments.

However, chronic stress causes these systems to stay engaged long-term.  And when that happens, the immune system and all of the other systems that maintain our well-being deteriorate.  Chronic illnesses develop.  What was a survival tactic in the short term kills us in the long term.

Listen to yourself closely and hear what you say about yourself — out loud and in your head.  If you are talking negatively, ask yourself how, when, why, who taught you to sell yourself short.  When did survival mode become emotional lifestyle?  When did you start believing others who told you you were worth less than you really are?

My favorite line from the Bible says “love your neighbor as you love yourself.”  Not love them more or less than yourself: to love yourself and others equally.  I believe it is really impossible to treat others with any more true respect than you hold for yourself.

Getting out of a short-selling situation — financial or emotional — can be a long, hard process.  But as the saying goes, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step — or word.  Begin today to change your negative words to positive ones.  Use encouraging words on yourself like “I’m learning to…”.  If there are people around you who continue to put you down, at least tell yourself the truth that you have value, that you are progressing, that you have potential. 

The more you believe it, the more everyone else will.

 

AQS Quilt Expo, Des Moines 2009

Okay, okay, I know I’m supposed to be taking the quilting business seriously  , but how can I when I make new friends like my roommate/threadpainter Terry White and bag designer/hairdresser Christoper Nejman every time I go to a show? 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6ZmB28wTuk

More to come . . .

 

Not just another birthday

Yesterday was my 47th birthday. If actuarial estimates of my lifespan are correct, I’m at the exact halfway point of my life.

(Of course, that’s barring any kind of random accident. And one of the questions on the questionnaire was not “Do you regularly jay-walk across New York City streets while taxicabs hurtle toward you at high speed playing ‘chicken’?”)

Waxing philosophical for a few moments on this momentous day, I asked myself “What have I learned in the first half of my life that I would like to apply in the second half?” And I asked the same thing to my two closest friends (who, by the way, have never met or talked with each other). Remarkably, our answers were all the same.

Annette said: “To not worry about what others think, and just be true to myself.”

Lela said: “To be appropriate — to always act and speak in the way that I believe is best. People don’t remember what you say, but they remember how you make them feel.”

And my answer: To engage my better judgment before speaking and acting in ways that I end up regretting.

To paraphrase them all, what we have learned in the first half of our lives that we want to live in the second half is this: To be true to our better selves.   (Could it also be said that it takes the first half of our lives to figure out what our true selves are?)

I had a second answer to this question as well, and it was this: People are more important than tasks. Speaking as a chronic workaholic, I would like to change my priorities and my behavior so as to break the cycle of working to the exclusion of relationships, then working to fill the empty space. I find that when I can look forward to spending time with people I enjoy, work gets done in much less time, so by arranging my priorities to put relationships higher on the scale, I should be able to accomplish as much work and have a more fulfilling relationship life.

To these, I would add another reflection on my life that has been bouncing around in my head ever since I watched To Wong Fu, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar last week. It is this: the calling and privilage of being a woman is to embody and express beauty and magic. Those women who embrace this calling are the ones who inspire and lift the rest of the human race above the soulless, mundane grind that life might otherwise be.  (And since this is a quilting blog, I have to say that quilters definitely fall into this category!)

After watching this movie, I asked myself to what degree I feel beauty and magic within myself.  It was surprisingly little. Rather, I feel useful. Useful is not a bad thing; it is good to be useful in this world. But if you are useful without embodying beauty and magic as well, you see yourself and are seen by others only for what you can do. With beauty and magic, you are seen for who you are (or at least who you appear to be). Put the two together and you have style and substance. Now that is something powerful!

———————

I managed to get myself away from work by 3:00 to spend the afternoon/evening reminding myself why I love New York. Given how much I’ve been working at home and on the road lately, I haven’t been engaging in the life of the city much, so I am due for a dose of NYC energy.

As I dressed to go out, I really paid attention to how I looked — I wanted beauty and magic and substance and higher self all in the mix. (I decided my closet needs an overhaul — too many t-shirts and jeans.) I ended up wearing the purple cardigan sweater I bought at Anik last year to celebrate the publication of SASQ over a white belted shirt and black pants, with dichroic glass jewelry. (To quote Jacqueline Bisset playing “Madame Simone” in one of my favorite movies: “More of that, please!”)

First I dropped off a job at Creative Bath. Ever since Daniel left town, I’ve taken over his work for them making sample shower curtains and table linens. Recently, the head designer asked if I might like to design a line of bed linens for them. Years ago, slogging through my last couple of painful years of music grad school, I longed to design homewares. As I was finishing the manuscript for SASQ, my friend Ann (who listened to so much of my whining back in those grad-school years) reminded me that I had said back then that if I could be anything I wanted, I would be a designer. And now here I am, practically in spite of myself!

Next I headed uptown to the Guggenheim to see the Kandinsky exhibit. But the museum was closed by the time I got there. No problem. I walked a few blocks downtown, first to Vosges (what’s a birthday without chocolate?) (http://www.vosgeschocolate.com/?gclid=CNKr7pzr7Z0CFY915Qodh15uMQ) and then to the Metropolitan.

I decided to just wander and let the Met surprise me with some new discovery. Looking at the list of special exhibits, I saw there was one of Japanese mandalas, so I started there. That took me to the Asian wing, where I have never been before.

Of course, I was interested in the mandalas because of my current book project. They were inspiring not so much because of the design or the specific philosophical/religious underpinnings, but I did feel drawn again to the idea of creating a piece of art that embodies some sort of attribute that you want to focus on, meditate on, and incorporate into your life. I’ll take that with me as I work on the next few mandala quilts for the book, thinking about what I’ve mentioned above.

The sound of trickling water drew me through the galleries to a section of contemporary Japanese art, and I discovered, to my utter delight, that the Met has one of Isamu Noguchi’s water stones. (http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/ho/11/eaj/ho_1987.222.htm) Now there is something to meditate upon. The paradox of apparent stillness and yet dynamic movement of the water, the perfect level balance of the stone, the depth of the well in the center, I could go on and on. I could have lingered for hours. (http://www.noguchi.org/water.html)

Moving on through the Asian galleries, I came to a round entryway with a sign that said “Astor Court”. Walking through that strange portal, I entered a Ming dynasty scholar’s garden. (http://www.metmuseum.org/special/scholar/astor_corner.R.htm) It was magical. The stones, plants, waterfall. The covered walkway lined with glowing lanterns. I could imagine a woman in a hooded kimono coming quietly to meet her lover, the stars overhead (it has a glass ceiling), the crickets of a warm summer evening. Who would have thought there was such a place right in the middle of Manhattan? I literally felt as though I had travelled halfway around the world and through time.

As I exited the museum, I saw that it had begun . . . to snow? It seemed so (though it was rain) because the rain was soft and misty enough that the wind tossed the raindrops through the beams of light shining on the face of the museum, making them dance the way snowflakes do. It certainly seemed cold enough for snow. Another magical moment.

Coming home on the bus I decided that even though it was getting late in the evening (8:30), I did want to make a birthday cake, even if there was no one to share it. I wanted the making of it, and even more, I wanted to blow out the candles and make a wish. I haven’t done that in years, but it seemed somehow appropriate and meaningful at the midpoint of my life. So I hopped off the bus to buy a chocolate cake mix and some raspberry jam for a chocolate raspberry layer cake.

Carolina, bless her heart, came over to share the moment with me, even though she was up till 5:00 a.m. the night before being sick. Just as we were lighting all 47 candles (and believe me, I was worried we were going to set off the smoke alarms), my cell phone rang. It was after 11:00 p.m., and I didn’t recognize the number, so I didn’t answer it. And then it rang again — same number. And then a third time. So I checked the voicemail to see who it was.

The voicemail went something like this: “Hi Jen, this is Pete, I know it’s really late, but I just called to wish Trini a happy birthday.” I don’t know anyone named Jen, Pete or Trini.  How wonderfully, strangely coincidental that some complete stranger would call my number — a wrong number — to wish someone happy birthday at exactly the moment when I’m lighting the candles on my own birthday cake?

So I called Pete back to tell him what had just happened. He’s in Florida, but he and the whole family had just recently moved there from New York, which is why he was trying to call a phone in a 917 area code. We had a lovely chat (he asked me how many candles, and all I would tell him was that it took more than one box), and Pete asked if he could call me every year on my birthday. I said he could if he told me his birthday and let me call him every year on his (it’s December 27, and he’ll be 42). So we agreed.

I think the second half of my life is off to a beautiful, magical start.

 

Quilt Festival, Houston

I’ve had a number of inquiries from quilters asking if I’ll be at Quilt Festival in Houston.  Since I’m so recently arrived “on the scene”, the folks at International Quilt Festival have not yet given me the opportunity to teach at their shows.  If you’d like to take a class from me at an International Quilt Festival (Houston, Long Beach or Chicago), please contact the education office at International Quilt Festival and let them know.  You can write or email:

Judy Murrah, Vice President of Education
Quilts, Inc.
7660 Woodway, Suite 550
Houston, Texas 77063 
e-mail: edu@quilts.com

Thank you!  See you at a show soon!

 

Welcome to the Spiromaniacs Blog!

Welcome to the Spiromaniacs Blog!  I hope you find your visit inspiring. 

To look at finished spiral quilts, click on the Inspiralling Quilts and TA DA! pages listed at right.  Then, if you’d like to learn more about the individual quilts, click on the quiltmaker’s Work-in-Progress page.  All of the quilts (except for mine) were made by people who had never made a spiral quilt before.  Quilters of all levels accepted the challenge to learn spiral quilt techniques, then design and make a quilt of their own.  I think you will agree that the results are simply amazing!  And if they can, you can!

To purchase the book Simply Amazing Spiral Quilts go to the Store, or click on the link under “Blogroll” at right.

For Spiral Quilt workshops (both in-person and online): To see course offerings and register click here or on the link under “Blogroll” at right.  To see all my schedule in-person events and online classes click on RaNae’s Calendar.  To learn about how online classes work, click on Classroom at right.  Also check out the student gallery page.  If you’re registered for an online class, look for the class name and your name at right.  Schedule now for your show or guild so you’ll be first to present these great new designs!

To sign up for the newsletter and receive a FREE PATTERN click here or on the link under “Blogroll” at right.

For current Spiromaniac news scroll down below this post.  (This one is “sticky” so it stays at the top of the page, while current news posts below it, with the most up-to-date at the top.)

I’m now on Facebook!  Click on RaNae’s Facebook to become a friend!

To write a comment to a post (here on the main page), click on “Comments” below the title.  To write a comment to a page, scroll to the bottom of that page and write in the box.  (Your comments come to me automatically as emails.) Or, send me an email at ranae@ranaemerrillquilts.com

If you find errors in the book, check the page Corrections to SASQ.  If you find one that is not listed, scroll to the bottom of the page and write a comment.  (Apologies, and thanks, in advance!)  The next printing of the book is about to happen, and many of these changes will be made.

I look forward to hearing from you!  Spiral on!

RaNae

 

Spiral Christmas Stockings have arrived!

My pattern for these adorable Spiral Christmas Stockings just came out in the holiday issue of American Patchwork and Quilting magazine!  (This was a shared project with my friend Mary Reddington – thank you Mary!) 

Click here to order kits in time for the holidays!

 

Upcoming Classes & Events

The next session of my online Spirals Crash Course begins October 3.  Click on the title to enroll.

To see all my upcoming in-person events and online classes,
click here: RaNae’s Calendar.

For more information about online classes and how they work,
click on Online Class Info.

To register, click on the links in this post above.  “See” you in class soon!

RaNae 

P.S.  I’m now on Facebook!  Click on RaNae’s Facebook to become a friend!

 

New Year, New Look

Hey, Spiros, I just launched my new website so surf over and take a look: www.ranaemerrillquilts.com.  The address hasn’t changed, but EVERYTHING else has.  The online store is now set up and working too!  This is a HUGE milestone, something I’ve been envisioning and planning for several years.  Kudos to Mary Wagner, my designer, who seemed almost psychic in her ability to understand what I wanted, and to Joe Chellman, our programmer, who said “yes” to virtually every “can we . . . .?” question I threw at him.

One of the new things on the site are ONLINE CLASSES.  Check out the listings on the Teaching page and register online.  For in-person workshops, the page also has booking information and a downloadable contract.  In the next few days I’ll be putting the final touches on the course descriptions, then will send an email out announcing them.  If you want to see how online classes work, just look at the Work-in-Progress pages here on the blog.

Wishing you a wonderful new year as we face the challenges ahead!

RaNae