• Getting to the Point


    Years ago, I heard an observation that NASA had spent millions of dollars developing a pen that would write in zero gravity; the Russians solved the problem more cheaply by simply using a pencil.


    Ah, the humble pencil. We have them lying around the house. Who can guess how many have crossed our palms over the years of elementary school and into the present day? My main complaint about a standard pencil is that they never give you enough eraser to balance typical use.

    When were pencils invented, and by whom? Many people can name the inventors who made electric light bulbs or wireless radios, but who among you knows the person responsible for one of the most common household items that we would be hard-pressed to live without?

    According to Wikipedia – “Pencils were invented in the late 16th century, with the first wooden pencil created by an Italian couple named Simonio and Lyndiana Bernacotti in 1560. The modern pencil, using a mixture of graphite and clay, was developed by Nicholas-Jacques Conte in 1795.” Now you know who to thank the next time you want to write or draw something physically in an easily removable medium.


    I have been drawing with pencils since my awkward childish fingers could hold one, and about 25 years ago, I designed an opportunity quilt for my Quilt Guild. That quilt – Evening Song – was featured on the cover of Quilter’s Newsletter Magazine.


    It was the guild’s custom at the time to hand quilt our opportunity quilts, and the quilt, in progress, would be displayed and quilted on in a frame as a demonstration at the quilt show before the year the guild would raffle it. As the designer, I brought my original scale drawing on graph paper to display with the quilt. On the first morning, a man attending the show walked around admiring the quilt and then noticed the drawing I had laid on the corner. He examined it and asked if the designer was present. I introduced myself, and he gestured to the drawing, asking what ‘program’ I had used to create it. When I explained that I had not used any program, he looked astonished and asked how I had made the drawing. “The old-fashioned way,” I replied, “with a pencil and an eraser.”


    Yes, it’s true. With today’s high-tech computers and programs like Electric Quilt, I still draw my designs the old-fashioned way – with a pencil. Although I do ultimately scan and digitize quite a few of my designs, particularly ones I intend to use as class handouts or marketable patterns, almost all of my designs start as pencil drawings on paper. Below are examples of a pencil drawing on graph paper and the completed quilt. Note the changes from the original design to the finished quilt. I often make such changes as I see the quilt evolving from paper to fabric.


    While I appreciate the amenities of mechanical pencils—the consistent, fine leads and the way they extrude at the touch of a button—I still have a soft spot for the good old wooden pencils that I must sharpen. These artists’ drawing pencils are a ‘must’ if I am creating drawings that I will fill in with tonal shading, as mechanical pencils are almost useless for achieving fine transitional shading that defines tone drawing. This has led me to the quest for the perfect pencil sharpener.


    In my 20s, I attended a community college, taking advanced art and design classes, and I had the perfect hand-held pencil sharpener. It was one of those self-contained ones with a removable compartment to catch the shavings, but most importantly, it sharpened a pencil to a long, finely tapered, delicate point. It was not an artist’s pencil sharpener but designed for an eyeliner pencil, and it did a superb job of sharpening drawing pencils to provide exposure on the side of the point for shading tone drawings. The ultra-sharp tapered point also meant it continued producing a fine line at the tip long beyond when most pencils would require resharpening. You can guess from my context that I don’t have it anymore. I lost it at college and have never encountered anything like it since.


    To get such a fine, tapered point, you need either an electric sharpener—plug-in or battery-operated—or the old-fashioned crank type that mounts on the wall; every classroom had one in the 1960s. I have two vintage hand crank models and two electric ones, but they aren’t exactly portable, and neither type fits into a small pen/pencil tote or canvas book bag that I use to carry my design notebooks. And so, I continue seeking the ideal, small, portable pencil sharpener.
    Over the years, I have bought and tried plenty, ranging from the annoying small open ones that strew shavings all over the place to compact ones with snap-on shaving reservoirs. Most failed to satisfy in the long run. After spending a hefty fee for a petite open type one made from metal that my local deluxe art supply store recommended, I found the plastic set of 6 sharpeners sold by the Dollar Store did as good a job. However, both became dull in a few months and were messy.


    I prefer the type with the compartment that catches the shavings, though this feature bumps up the size of the sharpener so that it no longer tucks neatly into a pencil box or pouch. Still, they are portable enough to slip into a book bag. Some sharpen to that elongated point I strive for, while others create that short point that is sharp but wears down to a thick line quickly. My current favorites are tied between one by Faber-Castell, which flips open on one side to access three sharpeners (two universal ports for thick and standard drawing pencils and one designed for colored pencils) while the other flips open to dispose of the collected shavings. This sharpener creates an elongated point; the only drawback is paying attention to which side you are opening if you don’t want a pile of pencil shavings in your lap.
    My second favorite is one made by a German company called Blackwing. It’s a high-tech-looking black metal cylinder that fits comfortably in your hand. One end of the sharpener unscrews to access the shavings reservoir and the shaving blade should you ever need to replace it. It’s impossible to dump the shavings accidentally, but its drawback is that there is only one port for a standard-diameter pencil.


    In all cases, these hand-held sharpeners have a screw that holds in a replaceable blade though you must be careful to find a blade that fits your sharpener. Reviews on replacement blades vary as to whether they fit as specified or are of good quality steel, so homework is needed to ensure you get suitable replacement blades. You can also sharpen the blades if you have the patience. There are a few tutorials online on how to do this. More often than not, finding and replacing a correct blade is more difficult than simply replacing the whole sharpener. However, the Blackwing sharpener is expensive enough to make me consider blade replacement when it finally becomes dull.


    Despite all the computerized drawing programs and digital equipment that the current era has brought, I will always love the feel of a pencil as I translate images in my brain into images on paper. When I hold a pencil, I feel a direct connection between my eyes, brain cells, and the nerves in my fingers. It’s a very Zen sensation, and the feel of the graphite flowing from the pencil onto paper is like feeling your blood pulsing through your veins.


    Meanwhile, check out this cool video showing the evolution of automatic pencil sharpeners over the ages: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25knkBhLSVA




  • The Ironing Board (OR – Sometimes You Wish You Never Started)

    It all started with an ironing board. My friend, Jane, was cleaning her studio storage room and came across an ironing board she had put in there and forgot about. That should tell you the state of her storage room – not too different from my sewing room. When I asked about her plans for the ironing board, she told me she already had two boards set up, and this one was going to Goodwill unless I wanted it.

    I have two weaknesses: I never turn down free fabric or free sewing tools; OK, make those three; I won’t say ‘no’ to a piece of dark chocolate either. I was not about to turn down this beautiful brand-new ironing board. Mine is serviceable, but it was not a great board from the start, plus it’s ancient and rickety. A new, stable board was an offer too good to pass up.

    Between my fabric (ahem) obsession and my Works in Progress (I dare not call them UFOs; they might abduct and beam me up to the Mother Ship), my sewing room is not much different from Jane’s storage room. It does provide exercise, a bona-fide obstacle course worthy of an Olympic Triathelon. To install the new ironing board, I first had to remove the old one. This meant moving boxes of IMPs (Important Materials & Projects) stacked around, beneath, and at both ends of the board. I piled some of these on my already over-stacked sewing table, burying my sewing machine. Other boxes, ranging from shoe-box storage containers to 54-gallon bins of batiks, had to be stacked in the hallway. By now, my husband was giving me the Evil Eye.

    Oh, the things I found behind and under that old ironing board! A rotary cutter I lost long ago, a cutting ruler I didn’t even know I had, and Dust Bunnies – Dust Bunnies on steroids that looked like they had been genetically crossed with elephants. Finally, I could maneuver the old board out and fit the new one in. Or maybe not.

    Wouldn’t you know, the legs on the new board extended two inches beyond the old board’s. Just two lousy inches, but enough that the storage bins in the corner at the end of the board no longer fit. They had to be moved to a third area – my office.

    This is like wiping the cheek of a muddy child: you made a clean spot, so you may as well bathe the rest of the child. This would be a perfect time to reorganize and clean my sewing room. But it was time for a break, so I sat at my computer, sipping a cup of tea, and emailed my friend. “Just look at what you started”, I typed in accusation.

    I confess I’m not very disciplined and live for the creative moment. I’m not diligent about returning a tool or fabric to its ‘proper’ place. Not only might I need it again soon, but I also don’t want to waste any of my creative time on something as left-brained as putting something away where it belongs. And so it begins.

    Mountains are formed one grain of sand at a time, and so, too, quilting clutter. Finding something in my sewing room is an exercise in Archaeology – I don’t search so much as excavate layers, determining the era in which that layer was laid down. If I am looking for something I used last week, I know I’m in the wrong place when I start uncovering projects I last worked on six months ago. I would rather clean up after a national disaster than try to clean my sewing room, but this was a perfect opportunity to reorganize the detritus of my creativity. Many of you may be familiar with that quote – “God grant me the serenity…” my version is: “God grant me the decisiveness to abandon UFOs I have no more interest in, the perseverance to finish those I am still invested in and the rationality to identify one from the other”.

    Before you frown at my lack of discipline let me assure you it is born from long experience that the worst thing I can do is put something somewhere sensible. A logical storage space on Monday will not be so on Friday. Take the bag of flower buttons I bought years ago. They were tossed onto a corner of my sewing table and happily resided there for many years, doing no harm. Now and again, I would notice the bag and peek inside to remind me of the contents and replace it in that corner. A year ago, in an attempt to clear my sewing table, I put them where they belonged. Now that I want to use those buttons, where they “belonged” is obviously not where they need to be because I have yet to find them. If only I had just left them there on the sewing table.

    The last time I reorganized my sewing room, it turned into a week-long endeavor rivaling the reorganizing of a Fortune 500 company. The process worsens before it gets better as things are moved to temporary shelters while their permanent space is prepared. In this case, that shelter was my office, and that’s when I discovered, to my horror, that they were contagious. A few boxes placed in my office looked harmless, but before I knew it, my office had become infected and now needed reorganizing as well.

    That was days ago, and I just uncovered my sewing machine. This might be easy if my time for designing, sample making, and teaching weren’t being shared with a disabled husband, two cats, a parrot, and a dog, but I’m in it for the long run; maybe this overhaul will last longer than the previous one. That time, my sewing room was perfect for a whole month before the cycle began again like an unloved season

    Meanwhile, my lovely new ironing board is sitting innocently against one wall, looking for the whole world like the cat that ate the canary and is now burping up feathers and saying – “Who, me?”


  • New Years Resolution

    Where does the time go? It seems like only yesterday; I eagerly anticipated everything I planned to get done in my 2021 New Year’s resolution. My goals were to finish a bunch of UFOs – this was a challenge issued to my Virtual Small Quilt group, most members posted a list of a dozen or so (and many achieved their goals), my list was over 50 projects, and I just barely made a dent.

    Part of the problem is that I start as many new projects as I finish others, so my UFO boxes never seem to diminish like the magic purses in Fairy Tales that will never be empty. So too, with fabric scrap bags. I make a lot of scrap quilts. I probably made more of those this past year than any others, yet that bag of scraps never seems to diminish – they must be breeding in there.

    My other 2021 New Year’s resolution – to clean and reorganize my sewing studio; I failed miserably to accomplish. Part of the problem is that those persistently pregnant scraps are just not going away. The other part is my penchant for being a depot for fabrics and materials destined for another quilter or fabric artist. I constantly ferry materials from one person to another. My husband has vetoed the idea of those boxes residing in our living/dining room while in transit; I have nowhere else to put them but my studio – and pray I can find them when I can connect with these other sewers. Not to mention the fabrics offered to me for my own stash, I have difficulty saying ‘no thank you.’

    As I said, I did get some UFos done, and here are pictures of those:

    I also made a bunch of Kennel Quilts for animal shelters. These are small 12″ x 18″ quilts that are used by animal shelters. Here is a gallery of the ones I made in 2021, including a paw print design I made as a free pattern available on the group on Kennel Quilts on Needle Spot.

    Onto 2022 – my New Year’s Resolutions are: to blog and maintain my website more frequently, to finally reorganize my studio, to start a couple of brand new projects in new techniques I want to try that have been simmering on hold for too long, to finish more UFOs (of course!), and to make my way through boxes of exotic teas I buy and then neglect in favor of plain ole Liptons.