The Birches, Days … Five … Six … Etc.

And on the fifth day, I realized I’d gotten myself into some hot water. Do you have any idea how many limbs a reasonably normal tree has? Even quilted trees? Three, four, five, easy. But not so many that it looks crowded. And then if you have a good number of trees to attach those limbs to – that adds up. And limbs and trees aren’t that big! There are a phenomenal number of tiny pieces to cut, arrange and iron (3/4″ wide and 2″ long, folded in thirds lengthwise and ironed) and sew all the minute edges down. And the tiny little pieces don’t want to stay ironed or in place, and the trees all seem to think they need to be somewhere other than where I put them.

And of course, you realize I am a perfectionist of the tenth degree, which necessitates that the limbs of the trees “in front” down nearer the water be in front of the “back” trees, just as they would be in life.

Days Five and Six = trees are in place, four trees sewn. Argh.

BUT I WILL PREVAIL. Later.  And that’s probably the last you’ll hear of this project until the trees are sewn, otherwise this will begin to sound like Frodo and Sam’s painfully long and arduous trek across the  dangerous wastelands to Mount Doom in book three of the Lord of the Rings.  Reading such things is a great depiction of how painful the trek must have actually been, but I’m definitely not going to subject you to my trek through treeland.

The Birches, Day Four

I’m actually now past day 5, but who’s counting? Day Four was last Sunday, and I got a whole lot of work done on the quilt that day. I had all the hills, flowers/snow and trees pinned down to see if I liked the layout before I stopped last time. On Sunday I decided that there weren’t enough trees and they were all a little more straight than trees really are, so there was more cutting of tiny strips of fabric and ironing and pinning and arranging. I can see the forest now, I think.

And then I had to unpin most of the trees (except the bottom) so I could start sewing hills. I thought it was pretty funny seeing it there hanging off the ironing board, thought you might be tickled too. Sometimes I think on steep mountainsides that trees will get tired and start doing this sort of thing. But I have a very active imagination.

I spent a considerable portion of Sunday afternoon sewing hills. You see, this is the part where the sort of … muse or whatever sorta takes my fancy and I start making things up as I go along. I mean, I had the basic idea for the thing down but it’s what happens during the process that’s unexpected that makes it so interesting. Did I show the drawing I made that began this? I don’t think I did, so here it is.

Anyway, I decided to sew more lines in the hills than were really required to actually applique them. And then about three lines in I realized I was sewing topography lines – you know, contour lines in cartographic relief depiction – that indicate the elevation, and how steep the terrain really is. Because it’s a Nordic scene and there are mountains going down to a lake! Now you all think I’m a big dork, but in my defense I (a) see them a lot on my hiking maps and (b) worked for a guy who used these relief maps a lot. Anywho, I sewed a lot of very unplanned lines.

At the end of the night I had started to achieve what I love most about doing this sort of textile work. One by one the pins are removed, the tiny stitches are placed and it’s not unrelated pieces of fabric anymore, but instead a very tactile sort of thing, with depth and texture, it becomes heavier and more substantial as you layer and sew. I like the idea that something like this that I spent a lot of time and thought on reflects that in its very layering and depth.

And then, I started the tree work … but that’s an ordeal for another night.

The Birches, Days Two & Three

Day 3 (Monday) was a lot like Day 2 (Sunday): lots of ironing and poking myself with pins. I realized last night when I finished version 1.0 that my hands were stinging a lot from all the straight pins and the occasional iron burn.

Let the record show for those that do not believe that I do iron sometimes. Not my clothes, but I’ll iron for hours for applique, apparently. I would like to note that I believe this fabric is not entirely cotton. The fabric bundle I inherited dates to the days before manufacturers had refined their synthetic fabrics. Although this kind does not melt as some used to, it does give off a distinct odor of mothballs when heated. CHARMING. Now that I’m on about hour 5 of ironing it, I’m not noticing so much anymore, though.

Speaking of applique there are 2 types of hills, 2 types of flower patches, 2 types of trees of different length and branches so far. None is pieced, it’s all applique. You can see some of the pieces below, and the waviness of the brown/amber fabrics that made me think of hills in the first place. You can also see that the “branches” (top right) involved a very narrow piece of fabric to iron, which occasioned much quick finger snatching out of the way. The bottom right picture is where I actually was at the end of Sunday (Day 2), having pinned on all the “hills.”

On Day Three (today) I moved past hills into flowers and trees. The bottom left picture is some of the fields of flowers and snow that linger in the hills. Maybe you can start seeing that this is a very Nordic winter scene? Flowers do grow when it’s really cold up near the arctic circle, but sparsely. So here’s the end of Day Three, an ironed and pinned “rough draft” with hills and some plants on a cold day, with the choppy water below and the freezing sky above. So is it starting to look like something yet?