Relying upon his 30-year career in fashion design, Adrian twists and contorts fabrics and trims to represent landscapes, sea goddesses, deadly sins and more. Tricky materials, such as silks, organza and polyesters, rise and fall in remarkable fashion. And his ‘fauxthers’? They’re the icing on the cake.

The fact Adrian largely uses recycled materials makes his portfolio even more special. Each piece is created from enormous amounts of fabrics and trims found at thrift stores and charity shops. 

Enjoy this look into Adrian’s world, where manipulation is truly an artistic virtue. 

Seductive transformation

Adrian Smith: I’d describe my work as ‘seduction’. Not in a sexual way, but more sensually. My work links my fashion experience with textile art in a way that directly appeals to people’s visual and tactile senses. 

I have an instinctual connection to textiles and their technical challenges. And I’m drawn to fiddly, time-consuming techniques, possibly because my previous design work focused on factory repetition of garments in a series. I felt a need to distance my art’s ‘intellectual’ inspiration from my fashion design work. 

Like many textile artists, I’m drawn to landscapes. I’m currently working on an ongoing series based on growing up in Orkney and experiencing its terrain, culture and folklore.

But past inspirations have been varied. For example, my first series, SALIGIA – The Seven Deadly Sins, explored the seductive nature of the sins and how almost all were sins of ego and individuality.

A series of stories

My Death Becomes Her series was inspired by a visit to the Roman catacombs along with the Jewelled Saints of Germany. The series was an interesting meeting of human vanity and the fear of death.

I choose to work in series to pinpoint a mood or message and focus my creativity in terms of direction and coherence. For me, the best source of direction comes from personal passions, interests and familiar obsessions. A personal story or fascination with a subject gives me a strong framework from which to work. 

Working in series also allows me to present evolutionary stories and further explore unique facets along the way. It can be quite an illuminating process of self-discovery, but it also requires discipline to know which elements are relevant and which are just momentary curiosities.

Fashion design foundations

I’ve always been fascinated by the way people dress and present themselves, so I suppose fashion was an inevitable destination for me. After graduating with a BA Hons in fashion and theatre from Edinburgh College of Art, I later studied for an MA in design from the Royal College of Art in London. Following this, I moved to Italy to start a 30-year career in the fashion industry. I designed for several high-level luxury brands, including Gucci and Prada. And I worked with contemporary classic brands like Les Copains (knitwear) and Ck Calvin Klein (tailoring and urban sportswear).

Most of my fabric manipulation techniques come from my fashion experience. I particularly remember seeing a vintage haute couture gown that I thought was made of tiny pleats. But after looking more closely, I discovered the pleats were actually tiny tubes of fabric couched onto a base. That was one of my first techniques and it’s one I still use a lot. 

I love gradient colour effects, so my layered transparency spaghetti-strap technique grew from that. And my fringe-plush technique came about from trying to recreate a fur effect for a piece inspired by the golden fleece. I had used fringe strips before, but I discovered that gathering them tightly created a rich, furry texture.

I also modified the fringe technique to create what I call ‘fauxthers’. I’d been asked to create some millinery with feathers for a fashion show in New York. I couldn’t bring real feathers through US customs, so I developed my faux feathers. I’ve been using them ever since. 

Cutting, sewing and turning the trims can be tedious, repetitive and irritating work. Beyond that, gathering and application of the trims to a base can be quite fiddly and frustrating. Patience is necessary, but I believe working slowly gives the final piece a special quality that makes the challenge worthwhile. 

“My techniques are deceptively simple and the trims I create don’t take any great skill, but they do take a lot of patience.”

Adrian Smith, Textile artist

Fabrics unleashed

I’m a great believer in re-purposing. As a designer, I’m very aware of how rare it is to find something that can have multiple purposes. But that’s a challenge I enjoy. Repurposing fabrics allows me to give them a new life, versus being discarded in a landfill or incinerated.

Thrift stores and charity shops are a huge resource. Many textile artists believe the answer to sustainability is using natural fibres, but my experience has taught me many of the processes of industrial production of linen, cotton and wool all have an environmental impact of some kind.

I tend to embrace most fabric types, including synthetics where they work. Each fabric brings a particular texture or lustre to a piece, and I especially enjoy the contrasts. 

I use a lot of silk effects in my work, but they’re usually polyester faux silk blends. Silk is my favourite material for texture, lustre and colour, but I rarely use virgin silk as it feels like a crime to cut it into strips.

Courageous colours

I love energetic colours. Fabric manipulation is all about transformation, and in my world, that extends to colour.

Vulgarity isn’t my intention, but I like the fact that some colours have a potential for that. Part of my attraction for intense colours is the way they function as an antidote to the all-pervasive ‘natural’ palette that runs through a lot of textile art.

Don’t get me wrong. I love natural tones and concepts, and I admire many textile artists who focus on them. But sometimes it’s just liberating to just take things (and myself) less seriously for a moment. To take a deep breath, and then jump!

Uplifting beauty

We’re currently going through a terrible moment in history. Appalling injustice, war and neo-barbarism are clear signals we’re slipping back on hard-won progress and evolution. I see everyone around me under a perpetually despondent cloud.

It’s important to be aware, but I feel artists and creatives can also help by presenting positive messages and reminders of our capacity for uplifting beauty. If an artist can’t do that, then nobody can. 

My Wilful Optimism series is created as a refusal to be changed or cowed by evil influence. It serves as hope and defiance in the face of sometimes overwhelming horror.

This work uses a lot of fabric. Over the years, I’ve gathered colours that somehow ‘sang’ to me, and I found a home for them in this project. Fabrics include silk, viscose and polyester that unapologetically show off their joyful colour and lustre.

I covered a circular stretcher canvas in the base colour, then I used foam supports and repurposed elements to create alternate receding and burgeoning levels. 

The high-relief base was covered with fringe techniques, and the halo around the outside features my fauxthers to suggest freedom and joy. Everything was then reinforced with floristry wire, cut to shape and attached to a base panel. 

Swirling waves & quilling

I grew up on a small rural island in Orkney where much of the folklore is focused on the sea. My artwork Mither o’ the Sea references the great spirit that controls the sea in summer. She’s in eternal conflict with Nuckelavee who rules the sea in winter.

The piece is mostly created in organza on a taffeta base. I used double-layer tube trims, and the wide range of gradient colours was created by layering transparent fabrics. Those were couched down on the taffeta base with a stab stitch following curved lines. 

Although it looks like folds and pleats, it’s more like a fabric version of quilling. That gives me complete control in making the trims double back on themselves to create interesting collisions between curved forms.

The centre of the piece is suggestive of a face but made from a swirling wave effect over a three-dimensional support.

Testing my patience

Totem sorely tested my patience with the need for endless preparation and application of miles and miles of fabric and gathered trims. It took almost two years to complete. 

It was created in response to an EDGE Textile Artists Scotland brief to interpret an element of one of Scotland’s long distance walking routes, the West Highland Way. For some time, I’d been wanting to create a free-standing sculptural piece, and this was my opportunity.

I’d found a steel wire lampshade with an ugly covering that had an interesting form. I removed the covering and began applying fringe-plush and frill trims in colours that reflected elements of the landscape stretching from the central belt to the Highlands.

Creating the piece became absurdly time-consuming, and I missed the EDGE deadline. But I decided to keep at it and expand it to represent Orkney’s landscape, seascape and skyscape.

I added three more sections and two conical end pieces to create a large spindle shape. The spindle references my textile past and present. And the title Totem suggests an iconic representation of identity and belonging. 

After completing the spindle, I realised I was missing a water element. So, I added a separate spinning whirlpool form below the spindle. The shape references the Great Swelkie whirlpool near Stroma in the Pentland Firth.

Totem incorporates pretty much all my fabric manipulation techniques. The fabrics include silk, viscose, cotton, wool, nylon and polyester. The organza in the upper extremity suggests clouds, while bias-cut spaghetti-strap applications at the bottom give the impression of dense rock strata.

Scotland has many wildflowers in magentas and purples, so that was also an important element. I found an Indian silk sari top in a perfect magenta. I took it apart and used every scrap I could. Nonetheless, the entire amount only covered about an inch and a half of the spindle, and that was only because it was mixed with green!

Sharing my techniques

I’m excited to introduce Stitch Club members to my fabric transformation techniques, perhaps bringing a new element into their vocabulary. And I’m curious to see how they might use the techniques to add extra dimension to their work. 

They’ll learn how to take a fabric surface from low- to high-relief, perhaps even into a sculptural dimension. The process takes time, and I encourage members to persist. The techniques need patience and can be frustrating, but I can guarantee the results are immensely satisfying. 

“I think that the re-evaluation of textile art’s credibility for artistic expression comes as a result of the many artists who have harnessed social media for self-promotion and communication.” 

Adrian Smith

Thoughts on social media

I understand people’s valid frustrations with social media. But as a creative today, I think it presents a very rare opportunity to directly engage with an audience and no (overt) gatekeepers. 

I also think that the re-evaluation of textile art’s credibility for artistic expression comes as a result of the many artists who have harnessed social media for self-promotion and communication. 

We’re no longer solely dependent on convincing a gallery owner or curator to publicise our work.

My focus is on Instagram, and I’ve learned some key lessons along the way. First, because it can take a long time to create a textile work, I’ve discovered that sharing different stages of my work process appeals to viewers. People love road movies. If you just show them the destination, they miss out on the adventure.

I also try to not take criticism too personally unless it strikes a chord with something I’ve already asked myself. 

Lastly, I try to be patient and focus on those who generally appreciate my work. There is absolutely nothing wrong with having just a few likes for a post. You can’t please everyone. 

Rachna’s practice begins with the quiet act of noticing – the texture of bark, the curve of a seed pod, the subtle hues of grasses underfoot – as well as her own emotional response to the natural world.

For Rachna, each walk is a meditative experience. It’s a moment to absorb the mood and emotion of the landscape. Her materials, often gathered on her walks, guide her. They whisper possibilities shaped, in turn, by words, imagery and poetry. Together, they become the warp and the weft of her visual language: one that captures the wonder of the natural world.

Rachna Garodia: My intricately woven textures are like viewing a landscape. I’m capturing the atmosphere, tone and emotion felt on my daily walks. 

The starting point for my work has always been exploring materials, bringing unexpected textures together in a warp. I juxtapose cotton, linen, silk, nettle, hemp and wool with found materials such as paper, bark, seed pods and twigs. 

When I weave, I lose all sense of time. I get totally immersed in the craft, and day and night merge together as one. I find weaving’s rhythmic and repetitive nature meditative and calming.

Every piece of work is unique and bespoke. Each one takes shape slowly in my studio in west London and is later crafted into screens, space dividers and framed textile art.

Cultivating possibilities

I’ve always had to balance the challenge of being a mother-of-two with the fact that weaving is a slow craft. When my children were younger and I needed to work all hours to meet deadlines for shows and commissions, I used to spill out of the studio into all corners of our home.

However, rather than being a hindrance, this constraint added an interesting element to my practice. I started enjoying weaving small collections on paper and on little portable frames. 

I love the challenge of switching between locations and various types of looms and scale of work. 

“Mixing things up keeps my mind abuzz with new ideas, possibilities and helps in cultivating beginner’s mind.”

Rachna Garodia, weaver and textile artist

Explorations on the loom

I’m exploring two themes constantly in my work. One is the beauty of quietude and silence that I find in nature while on my daily walks. The other is the duality of my lived life in India and the UK.

I develop my ideas using mood boards. I’ll combine photos taken on my walks with yarns and poetry or words that resonate with the theme. I find written words spark imagery that lingers within me and so naturally keeps me in a state of creative flow.

No rules weaving

I source my yarns for weaving from all over the world. I love all types of threads and I’ll often chance upon interesting and inspiring materials in car boot sales and charity shops. 

Daily walks provide a lot of natural materials like twigs, leaves and other finds. I clean and prepare these for weaving by drying and varnishing them.

When I’m starting a new project, I find it freeing to use a variety of materials like paper, yarns, fabric strips, leaves and grasses as there are no rules.

When there are no rules there’s no fear of making a mistake and getting it wrong. The key is to have fun and keep playing and experimenting till you find a method that feels right for you.

“It is liberating to just be led by the materials one is using, rather than trying to lead the material.”

Rachna Garodia, weaver and textile artist

Working process 

My mum used to be a very quick and intuitive knitter, I never saw her following a pattern from a book. She had it all in her head. She inspires me and once I’ve planned my colours and materials I also work intuitively, but on the loom. 

Sometimes I have a few guiding shapes sketched out, but I tend to do my own thing. I mostly use a combination of plain weave, twill (a weave with a diagonal pattern) and soumak (where the weft threads are wrapped around the warps).

Because I’m naturally intuitive rather than a ‘step-by-step’ person, developing my Stitch Club workshop was quite entertaining. I got to see a different side of myself as I really had to pause and break down each step of the process. 

Perfecting my craft

I was introduced to weaving aged nineteen while doing my Bachelor programme. I found it magical – how a simple arrangement of threads on even a recycled piece of cardboard could result in patterns. That feeling of magic has never left me. 

Later on, I trained as a textile designer at the National Institute of Design in Ahmedabad, India. There I was taught more complicated weaves together with the aesthetics of design, under the tutelage of my professors Mrs Aditi Ranjan and Mr Kurma Rao. 

This was an influential time for me. Erroll Pires Nelson, one of my design school professors, whose hands were always busy with cotton ropes and engrossed in his ply split braiding, continues to be a lifelong inspiration.

I started my art practice in 2000, with a small loom on the dining table in a tiny apartment in the suburbs of Mumbai. I began freelancing and working with various architects and interior designers, weaving a number of interesting commissions. 

My personal life, however, brought a few pauses in my creative journey – namely, having babies and moving to multiple countries. I moved from India to London in 2006, and then to Dubai in 2014, before finally making a second home in London in 2016. 

Throughout these years of settling in different homes and raising kids, I had a compulsion to create. I always travelled with my first loom, which is very dear to me, so I continued to weave wherever I was living. 

From shuttle to needle

The rhythmic taps of the loom, which had always been so reassuring for me, made it difficult to weave beside my babies, so I turned to hand embroidery. I attended the Royal School of Needlework in London to learn technical hand embroidery. 

The softness and calmness of embroidery felt natural with young children around. When weaving wasn’t possible, I designed and embroidered quilts and cushions. Gradually, I started showing my pieces in exhibitions and shows and slowly gained a rhythm and flow in my work.

So far I’ve not combined weaving and embroidery in one piece but it is something I’ve long wanted to do. Only now have I been able to make space to take my time experimenting. And I’m working on some new and exciting concepts where both techniques find a way to complement each other in one art piece.

“I learn so much by being around creative people from multiple disciplines.” 

Rachna Garodia, weaver and textile artist

Creative collectives

When I finally moved my practice from home to a studio in 2017, life altered immeasurably. As well as getting a dedicated space to work outside of my home, at last I met my tribe of artists and makers that I’d not previously been acquainted with in London. 

I’m part of Pollen Collective, a group of multidisciplinary artists. Brainstorming various ways of problem solving, crit sessions and so many meaningful and joyous collaborations have come out of being part of a creative community. 

Recently I’ve been lucky enough to have the opportunity to move my studio to a refurbished barn in the beautiful and historic grounds at Chiswick House and Gardens, London. 

Julia is captivated by nature’s fine print like the lines, textures and colours that whisper rather than shout. She doesn’t just observe, she experiences and records moments that become visual echoes of time and place.

From that first spark of observation, her process flows intuitively. And her materials lead the way. Discover how Julia wraps, binds, sculpts and embroiders recycled frayed and worn fabrics full of history, creating tactile memories of place.

Julia Wright: I create textural, hand stitched mixed media textiles inspired by close-up details found in nature, landscapes and coastal environments.

My inspiration includes the cracks in pavements and walls, random lichen growth in fallen trees, barnacles settled in the crevices of sea cliffs, seed pods, tree roots, seaweed and shells. I find the resilience, seasonal growth and perpetuation seen in nature uplifting. 

Sustainability is at the heart of my work. It’s in the materials I use and the inspiration behind my ideas. I would encourage everyone to re-purpose existing fabrics, as they have such richness and can be inspiring in themselves. 

“It’s liberating to allow yourself to be guided by what’s available. It sparks creativity.”

Julia Wright, Mixed media textile artist

An expression of place

I don’t plan my work in the traditional sense; my pieces grow organically. I take photos wherever I go, mostly extreme close-ups of texture, surface, colour and line. 

I always carry a small handmade concertina sketchbook with me, usually no more than 10cm (4″) wide when folded, to capture things I notice in the world around me. These sketchbooks are more than just drawings. They hold moments, memories and a deep sense of place. I can remember exactly where I was and how I felt when I made each one. 

These sketchbooks and photographs are my starting points. I usually begin with a loose idea, perhaps a colour palette or a certain kind of shape, often based on the materials I have at hand. I start by making a series of wraps, which help me determine the direction of the piece. 

I typically work on a backing fabric without an embroidery hoop. I prefer the way the fabric distorts and moves naturally as I stitch, letting the surface develop its own rhythm. 

I begin by tightly hand stitching a single wrap onto the fabric. That first mark guides where the next will go. It’s an intentionally slow, mindful process.

I aim to create a focal point in each piece, sometimes through fine detail, sometimes with a bold pop of colour or strong directional lines. 

“Each artwork is a tactile map of experience – it’s a layered expression of both landscape and memory.”

Julia Wright, Mixed media textile artist

Sustainability driven

“The unpredictability of working with recycled fabrics excites me.” 

Julia Wright, Mixed media textile artist

Sustainability is central to my practice. I aim to keep textiles out of landfills by avoiding new fabrics wherever possible. I like to breathe new life into materials that might otherwise be discarded. 

I focus on using recycled and secondhand fabrics, sourced from charity shops, vintage textile fairs, and recycling centres, as well as donated materials. I value the sense of spontaneity this brings to the creative process.

I primarily work with natural fibres like cotton, linen and silk. I like the fact that I can dye them to match my desired colour palette. I enjoy the contrasts between their different densities, textures and surface qualities, from the rough to the fine and delicate.

Using up leftovers

In my Stitch Club workshop, I share ways to interpret elements within the landscape to stimulate ideas for composition. I encourage the use of recycling off-cuts of fabrics, found materials and threads left over from previous projects. 

Using an inspirational photograph as a starting point, I show members how to create a series of textural wraps hand couched onto a backing fabric. 

Inspired by materials

I always recommend beginning by gathering a selection of fabrics that inspire you. I suggest creating a resource pack, grouping fabrics and threads by colours that complement one another. 

Pay attention to textures, surface qualities, and varying weights. I find that smaller pieces, strips, and irregular shapes are particularly engaging, as they feel less overwhelming than large, uncut fabrics. 

I also favour working with worn materials, searching out frayed hems, seams and sections with holes as they often ignite new ideas and creative possibilities.

It’s a good idea to start by making small-scale pieces. Avoid the temptation to dive into a large project, as this can be discouraging and it’s easy to lose interest or momentum.

“A smaller, focused section, completed with attention to detail and technique, can be most satisfying.”

Julia Wright, Mixed media textile artist

Creative genes

I feel fortunate to have grown up in a family of creatives. My dad studied tapestry weaving at university and was an art teacher, photographer and accomplished painter. He continued his practice through most of his life. 

My mum was a professional dressmaker and always made our home furnishings. She also built furniture, put up shelves and made jewellery.  

Because of them, I’ve always considered being practical and hands-on as normal. We were always surrounded by art materials so drawing and painting were just something we did all the time. I can’t remember not being able to knit and sew.

All the women in my family were dressmakers and knitters. Many of my childhood clothes were handmade and I have fond memories of being sent knitted mittens by an aunt when I moved to Scotland for university as she was worried I’d be cold. 

My family fully supported me when I studied for a degree in Applied Design at Edinburgh College of Art. At university my work was sculptural and very large scale. I worked in clay and glass initially, then wood carving and jewellery-making. 

I was conscious of making the most of every opportunity. I had access to the best tutors, technicians and facilities and had a big studio space which I knew would be hard to find after graduation. 

However, outside my studies, I worked in textiles as they were so accessible. Fabrics and threads were readily available and easy to use at home. 

Inspired travel

Once I left university, I headed off travelling around the world. My initial ‘year abroad’ became seven years, on and off, including a couple of years living in Japan. 

Fabrics and threads were easy to transport and source whilst travelling so my practice naturally focused more on working in textiles. 

I recently moved into a big studio close to home so my work is developing into larger scale, sculptural textile pieces which is hugely exciting. The possibilities of working in fabrics and threads seem endless to me. Their malleability has no limit.

I am fortunate to be able to still travel and over the past few years have delivered workshops around the UK and in Europe and Australia with more planned in the future. 

Drawing, photographing and responding to different landscapes on my travels as well as working with whatever materials are available in different locations continue to capture my imagination. 

Responding to nature

My work features in a gallery space at The Knit and Stitch Show in Harrogate in November 2025, alongside the work of my friends Bev Caleno and Bryony Jennings. 

As the Wild Art Textiles Collective we are presenting a themed exhibition called ‘Strand Lines’, responding to the British coastline.  I have visited this show for many years and it’s an event I look forward to the most each year. 

I am most proud of the invitations I have received to exhibit my sculptural work, jewellery and textiles in prestigious galleries in the UK and Australia. 

I have also had my work featured in a couple of books. A Camouflage of Specimens and Garments by Jennifer Militello, (Tupello Press, 2016) and the forthcoming book, Contemporary Artists, Fibre and More by Charlotte Vannier (Editions Pyramid). I feel hugely grateful to have had these opportunities to have my work seen alongside artists, designers and makers whom I admire.

Cheryl is inspired by the natural world, colour, light and her emotional well-being. She spends hours crafting the collage materials for her art quilts and textile pieces. 

There’s no roadmap and no rules or fixed ideas about colour, subject or form. She works by instinct, letting go of expectations and following where the work leads. The best ideas arise from process, she says. 

For Cheryl, it’s the act of creating – the spontaneous dance of colour and line – that fuels her. Through this intuitive process, she channels love, loss and connection, transforming deeply personal moments into something universal.

Cheryl Rezendes: I am a fine artist; textiles just happen to be the canvas that I paint on. Machine and hand stitching are my pencil and pens. Thread is the ink and graphite.

I am inspired by the natural world. My large studio is situated in my garden. It’s filled with natural light giving me a view of the gardens and the woods. I’m surrounded by 40 acres of woodland.

I have lived here for almost 35 years and I’m still enthralled by all that I see and hear. It’s a place of refuge as well as a place of creativity. However, a trip to the city offers a vast array of visual inspiration as well. 

“There is always so much to see and absorb in whatever world I am walking through.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist

Being inspired

I am always inspired by the work of any artist, be it textile, painting or even pottery. It is all fodder for my creative self and making new work. 

Recently, my partner and I have started painting together. He is a potter and graphic designer. We work on large pieces of paper that measure approximately 150cm x 100cm (60″ x 40″). We paint and make marks very differently from each other. Just watching what he does, how he does it and how we bring both our skills together is incredibly inspiring.

I might help inspiration along by giving myself a challenge, such as to photograph all the lines that I see. It is amazing what can become a line if you are looking for them: a railing, the side of a building, a stacked pile of sticks and the edge of my dog’s kibble, to name but a few.

Creating my materials

I create my own collage materials. Usually I start by painting large pieces of white fabric using direct painting methods. But I might also stamp and stencil my own designs on to the fabric. 

I’ll also draw on the cloth and create monoprints. This is done without any intention of what they will look like or be used for. 

Sometimes I’ll digitally print one of my photographs onto cloth using my wide format Epsom printer. 

The pieces of fabric that I create in these ways will often coordinate or speak to each other – a visual conversation, if you will. I get inspired to use them together. These images are fused and/or stitched into the larger piece. As I work, I will be constantly hanging these pieces up on my design wall.  

“By viewing my work on a design wall, I’m auditioning them together, as well as getting inspired by the cloth and the work process itself.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

“My process for creating art is intuitive and based on discovery.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Call & response

I don’t have a favourite colour palette that I return to again and again. Instead, I use colours that, for whatever reason, speak to me at any given time. 

I then follow the piece along: asking what is needed from a design standpoint and then responding. I teach these concepts in my Stitch Club workshop. 

Because of the way that I create my textiles, my work is visually very painterly. Sometimes the finished pieces are statements of beauty and elegance, and at other times they are filled with raw emotion.

“I often don’t know what the pieces are about until they are finished.” 

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Finding meaning

The collection I made on care-giving was created that way.  It featured fifteen art quilts that were inspired by the eight years I spent as care-giver for my mother who had Alzheimer’s Disease and for my late husband who had Parkinson’s Disease and dementia. 

During those years I seemed to be drawn to dark colours, particularly brown, black and grey. Even as abstract pieces, the work seemed very emotional. They weren’t pretty. They were dark. 

At some point in the process of making those pieces I started to ask myself, “Okay. What are all these about, anyway?” 

I showed them to fellow artists to get their take. The resounding answer was that this collection of work was particularly sad and spoke to the anguish and grief I was feeling. Then the titles were born.

Coincidently, or not, when the show was completed my grieving process for the loss of those two people whom I had loved was completed as well.

Teaching intuitively

In my Stitch Club workshop, I share my process for creating intuitively. I highlight creating monoprints on cloth then used hand stitching as both a design and drawing tool. I introduce some collage work as well.  

My hope is that students come away with the skills to create monoprints and hand stitching but also that they understand that they can have a personal and unique visual voice. 

The inherent combination of spontaneity and discovery in the creation of one-of-a-kind prints lends itself well to this concept.

Cultivating curiosity

I encourage you to be open to the creating process, particularly self-discovery and the spontaneous.

Try to see what is happening in front of you rather than always seeing what you haven’t done. Often our intention doesn’t come through, but what we have actually created can be, and usually is, better! 

Imagine you are seeing the world for the first time. Drive or walk down your road and imagine what it would look like to someone who has never travelled that route before. You’ll find things you never saw.

Experiment with new supplies and different processes rather than just staying with what you’re already comfortable with. 

I may be formally trained but as a consequence, I have to work really hard at putting that training aside so I can be in discovery mode. Sometimes I’ll paint and draw with my non-dominant hand or cut collage pieces randomly. 

“I’ll do anything that helps me embrace discovery again.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Nurturing creativity

I had the great fortune of growing up with parents who supported my creative spirit from an early age. 

They provided me with sketchbooks, paint and composition books. My mother had an interior design business, so I was exposed to beautiful fabrics, wallpaper and design books.

We lived just a two-hour train ride from New York City so we regularly visited the Museum of Modern Art and the Guggenheim. That early exposure to the work of contemporary artists was a spring board for me becoming a professional artist. 

Learning to see

In my late teens, I went to The School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, MA where I studied painting and drawing for four years. As an artist, this was the most influential time in my life. 

At the time I attended, the school was a department of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. This enabled me to have free access to the museum whenever I wanted and I was able to spend as much time with any given painting that I happened to be inspired by. I was also part of a course that allowed students to choose a painting from the museum’s archives that we wanted to study. 

The artwork would be delivered to a special classroom located on the top floor of the museum where I could make copies either by painting or drawing. That experience taught me an array of important skills that I would later use to observe and truly see the work of other artists and the world around me.

Supporting textiles

My mother exposed me to beautiful textiles as a child. She also taught me how to sew. 

After art school I made my living as a stitcher while doing my artwork in the evenings. I quickly became very skilled. I worked for a designer making elegant evening wear. I made costumes for a shop that supplied musical and theatrical events and I also created costumes for live action 3D animations. 

Later, after moving to western Massachusetts and while raising my boys, I made custom wedding gowns using antique textiles and lace. I continued to paint, draw and do collage work and was represented by a few galleries. 

At some point I became familiar with digital printing on cloth. I became intrigued with printing images of my paintings and collages on cloth. I couldn’t help but use those to collage as well. 

My work continued to grow and, in 2013, my book Fabric Surface Design (Workman Publishing) was published. It features over 80 techniques for putting imagery on fabric using textile paints. 

“Life has presented many challenges to me, but I’ve painted and drawn my way through them, even if I could only work in my sketchbook.”

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist

So, what happens when a scientist becomes a textile artist who chooses a printing technique offering zero reliability? As you’ll see below, it’s an incredible mashup of mark-making, colour and stitch.

Leah Higgins worked as a scientist in the chemical and textile industry, so she understood the possibilities of dyes. But her choice to use her signature ‘breakdown’ printing process forced her to literally lose control. 

You can read details about the technique below. But, in summary, the artist first lays down a resist, then the dyes take over from there.

At first, it wasn’t easy for Leah to embrace the serendipity of the process. But now she wouldn’t work in any other fashion. 

Industrial inspiration

To date, my sources of inspiration have mostly been grounded in the industrial heritage and social history of the Manchester area in the northwest of England. It’s where I live, and my work often references industries and buildings that have a personal or family connection. 

For example, I worked as a scientist in the chemical and textile industry and was based in a converted spinning mill for many years. Ruins 9 Cottonopolis Revisited is one of several pieces that reference the cotton mills littered across Manchester. 

I also create art based on my emotions and their connection to place and time. In my Cadence series, I took shelter from the stress of the pandemic by immersing myself in the process of making. I worked with my favourite colours and techniques. 

In Cadence 7, I tried to evoke the sense of calm and joy that comes from a repeated activity such as printing and stitching. More recently, I’ve started work on a new series inspired by the colours of the North Ayrshire coast and the emotions that course through me while standing on the shoreline.

Science foundations

I don’t remember learning to sew or knit, but my mother and grandmother believed a woman should always have a practical something ‘on the go’. But at age 14, when my school asked me to choose science or art, I chose science. 

For many decades, the ‘creative’ me was focused on making and repairing clothes and things for the house. And as I was never fully happy following other people’s patterns, I taught myself to create my own clothing patterns. I took pride in getting things perfect, and that attention to detail is now evident in my textile art. I don’t do wonky seams or leave threads hanging!

“Earning a chemistry degree and PhD in textile science, followed by a career in the textile industry has had a great influence on my work.” 

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

Understanding the properties of different textiles and the chemistry of dyeing has helped me transfer my ideas onto fabric. 

Those experiences also underpinned my teaching practice and helped me write books about colour and screen printing. It has also driven my interest in our industrial heritage.

Important mentors

I started making patchwork bed quilts and wall hangings in the 90s, usually giving them as gifts. Although I created my own designs based on traditional patchwork patterns, I soon wanted to design pieces from scratch. 

I took City and Guilds courses in Patchwork and Quilting, including an online diploma with Linda Kemshall. I learnt lots of techniques, but I didn’t like working into sketchbooks and wasn’t yet ready to call myself an artist.

That transition happened over a five-year period during which I took a series of workshops with Leslie Morgan and Claire Benn. Those amazing women changed my life. They taught me so much in terms of techniques, including introducing me to breakdown printing. But they also gave me the tools I needed to develop my own creative practice to become an artist.

“I wanted to learn how to transfer a source of inspiration into a finished quilt.”

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

Colours & marks

My initial planning takes place in my head. I like working in series, so it’s important that the ideas I choose have enough depth to sustain multiple pieces, often created over several years.

I don’t work into a sketchbook as such but will sometimes jot down ideas in a journal. I like to read around my subject, to visit relevant places and collect imagery I might incorporate into my work. 

Once I’m ready, I always start by playing with colours and marks. I might try to match colours to my source inspiration, or I might choose colours that ‘feel right’. 

I work directly onto fabric using breakdown printing and other screen printing techniques. I also sometimes use dyeing techniques to create a cohesive collection of fabrics that are unified by colour and dense mark making. 

“I don’t often get it right the first time. There will be fabrics I discard and fabrics that need additional work.”

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

Eventually I’m ready to construct my quilts. I cut my fabrics into simple strips or rectangles and often use value change to arrange them in an interesting way.

Once stitched together, I layer my work and add lots of straight-line machine stitching, as this seems to help the individual pieces of fabric blend together. In fact, viewers are often unaware such a large work contains several hundred pieces of fabric.

Once quilted, I often use appliqué or print to add elements that reference specific aspects of the inspiration source.

Breakdown printing

One of my favourite printing techniques is breakdown printing. It’s a form of screen printing in which I apply thickened dyes directly to the back of a screen, then let the screen dry completely. This dried dye acts as a resist when I print my screen. As I pull the screens, using either print paste or more thickened dye, the dried dye starts to wet out and transfers colour and marks to the fabric.

Each time I pull the screen more of the dried dye breaks down a bit, resulting in unique marks and patterns for every print.

“I love the serendipity of breakdown printing and the fact that I’m not 100 percent in control.”

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

There’s something wonderful about starting with a piece of white fabric and adding colour and marks. 

I’m excited to be hosting a workshop for the Stitch Club in which members will learn my breakdown printing technique. My aim is to make screen printing accessible to those who have never printed or used dyes before. The technique is very forgiving, so beginners won’t have to worry if their prints don’t line up or the fabric gets messy. 

Poplin love

Most of my art quilts were made using a lovely cotton poplin. Poplin has a very fine, dense weave and a smooth surface which takes colour beautifully, giving the printed colours a brightness that you wouldn’t get with plain cotton. 

That said, I used a linen/cotton blend for my Artefact series. I wanted to combine printed marks with a more textured fabric. I buy all my fabric from Whaleys of Bradford as I have better control of colour if I use fabric from the same supplier. 

“Poplin gives the printed colours a brightness that you wouldn’t get with plain cotton.”

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

The mighty Bernina

I bought my first Bernina sewing machine in 2007. It was a Bernina 440 that I had used in a workshop. Then a couple years ago, I replaced the 440 with its equivalent, the Bernina 435. 

The Bernina is a heavy machine and gives a very crisp straight line which is important to me as all my quilts are finished with dense straight line machine quilting. And they’re both true workhorses. My first machine did over 14 million stitches before becoming my backup machine!

Must-have tools

Humble masking tape is a must-have when I’m printing. But I also use it on my quilts as a guide for straight-line stitching when I don’t have a seam to which I can stitch parallel lines. 

The walking foot on my sewing machine is also essential. It not only helps to smooth quilting but also helps when I’m machine stitching long seams. I’ll also use it on rare occasions when I want to stitch curves, even quite tight ones. I get better control over stitch length than I would if I used free-machine quilting.

Also, I always have a notebook and pen next to my sewing machine. I can jot down the ideas that often come to me when I’m seated at my machine.

“My work is art and should not be excluded from exhibitions because of the media I choose to use.”

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

Textile art bias

As an artist, I’m constantly frustrated by the association between textile and craft within the ‘white-walled gallery’ fine art community. Yes, I take pride in mastering my craft. But my work goes beyond craft. 

On a more personal level, my biggest challenge is time! My creative process is time consuming, and it can be challenging to balance art with my teaching practice and family life. I’m reducing my teaching practice as part of my move to Scotland, which will hopefully free up more time to create!

The joy of writing

To date, I’ve written three books, including one dedicated to the breakdown printing process.

When I worked in a technical role in a manufacturing company, I often had to write detailed technical instructions for colleagues or customers with limited knowledge of the subject. So in 2018, when I changed career and started teaching screen printing and other surface design techniques, it was both natural and enjoyable to write detailed notes for my students.

A good friend who had self published her own books suggested I give it a go, so I did. And I loved it! Each of my books was written during quiet teaching periods, so I could set my studio up for photography and really focus. I completed each book in three to four months.

“I see my books very much as an extension of my teaching practice rather than my art practice.”

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

A big move

Looking toward the future, I’m interested in seeing how my ideas and sources of inspiration change as I move from an industrial city to a small town on the coast. My links with industry will fall away. 

I’m already working on a new series using colours associated with the coast. I wonder if I’ll be inspired by local history, too?

With more time, I’m hoping to explore different printing processes and seeing how I might incorporate printed paper into my work.

The magic is found in her use of ‘sequins,’ which Jessica stresses aren’t limited to shiny little plastic circles. They can be created from anything and in any shape, including sweets wrappers, straws, wire, metal washers, junk mail, cereal boxes and, of course, fabric.

While Jessica’s whimsical bits and bobs are a joy to behold, they also have a serious purpose in raising awareness about zero waste and recycling. Jessica seeks to literally turn rubbish into works of art, and she delights in viewers’ astonishment upon closer viewing of her work. ‘Look! That’s a bottle cap!’

Jessica’s vibrant selection of unloved objects, combined with traditional embroidery work, is something we’re sure you haven’t seen before. And she is kindly offering us a look into both her process and artistic philosophy.

Tell us a bit about your art practice…

Jessica Grady: My work is entirely stitched by hand using embroidery techniques and intricate detailing. Each stitch provides an added element of texture and colour to the work as a whole.

With a lot of sculptural embroidery pieces, I often stitch into and embellish my embellishments before adding them to the fabric, to increase the level of small details.

I also like to work in layers to help build up my pattern. I begin with the largest shapes first, and then the detail gets smaller as I layer up, leaving my embroidery stitches as my final flourish.

I am a fan of basic stitches, such as straight stitch, couching, french knots and chain stitch. I think the most simple stitches have the most versatility in the way they can be manipulated and used within a piece of work.

When I stitch embellishments onto fabric, I try to use my securing stitch as an added pattern or design. It’s like doodling with a pen on paper, but I use my needle and thread.

I also cut and create the vast majority of my sequins and beads through many mixed media processes, including dyeing, painting, fusing and foiling.

Colour is another important aspect of my work. I use many strong and highly contrasting colours, creating a very vivid and saturated colour palette. My artworks are a textural and visual feast, saturating the senses with colour and pattern.

From trash to treasure

Tell us about your design process…

I am a firm ‘anti-planner’ and avoid planning out designs in advance. I instead create mini samplers that demonstrate a technique or motif idea that I have swirling around in my head. I can then see if the idea works and then develop it further.

I prepare my materials in batches, so one day I might be dyeing recycled plastics and on another I am painting metal washers. I want to have colourful and exciting things ready, that make me want to create something with them.

I work with recycled and unconventional materials, so actually creating my sequins, beads and embellishments is my favourite part of the process.

Every work is inspired by my materials – the colour, shape or texture of something is always the catalyst to what will be created.

Jessica Grady, Textile artist

For me, it’s all about transforming waste materials. For example, I’ll take something mundane like a ground coffee packet and then dye, paint, scrunch and overstitch the fabric to create something totally unique. And nobody would be able to guess it’s made from something many people would throw in the bin!

I’m passionate about utilising mixed media and recycled materials such as painted metal washers, hand-dyed plastic waste, dyed sponges and stripped electric cables. The juxtaposition of unusual media with traditional techniques invites the viewer in for a closer look.

My continued experimentation also means I don’t think I will ever run out of new ideas for unusual materials I can stitch onto my fabrics!

Collections transformed

What initially attracted you to textiles as a medium?

I was fascinated with textiles from a young age. My great aunt gave me pieces of fabric with printed flowers and showed me how to embroider with coloured threads. I attempted to finish them off with neat flowers, but my attraction was more to the colours and textures of the stitches.

I also vividly remember destroying my poor mum’s ironing board cover, after a first attempt at devoré printing (a burn technique largely used with velvet) as a teenager.

I love the tactility of textiles, and I enjoy the challenge of creating a highly-detailed, three dimensional surface using embroidery and embellishment.

What were your early influences?

I grew up in a small town on the Yorkshire coast. I have always loved being near the sea and hunting for treasure, be it fragments of sea tumbled glass or broken shells and pottery.

I became a collector of ‘stuff’ at an early age, and it’s only now that I am going back to those collections and finding ways to incorporate those small pieces into my embroideries.

I was very shy and anxious as a child and threw all my energy into my studies and art projects. In a way, I feel it gave me a voice when I didn’t feel confident enough at the time to express myself through talking.

My family has always encouraged my art practice, and my mum was always coming along with me to look at new exhibitions or to shop for craft supplies.

Ironically, my college career advisor told me a textiles degree would give me limited career options, and therefore, wasn’t a good choice. Safe to say, I didn’t listen to her!

What was your route to becoming an artist?

I studied art and design at Norwich University of the Arts. After looking through my sketchbook, one of my teachers encouraged me to look at textiles as a degree option. Every page of my sketchbook had influences of texture, and I would try any new textile practice I could get my hands on.

So I completed a textile design degree, learning to weave, knit, print and stitch. My course had a flexible approach that allowed me to dabble with practices that interested me, rather than having to cement myself to one single discipline.

University helped hugely with my confidence and development of my artistic voice. I also interned at several commercial textile companies, including Hand and Lock, and Zandra Rhodes.

After graduation, I worked for several London companies as a freelance embroidery and print designer in the fashion industry. But I still created my own work and was always applying for exhibitions and shows alongside my commercial practice.

After a while, I found working in fashion began to dilute my sense of who I was as an artist, so I decided to do more of my own work. I applied for a new artist award in 2017 called ‘RAW Talent’ offered by an organisation called art&, and to my surprise, I got into the programme. It was an amazing experience in which I received both one-on-one and group mentoring. It made me realise that yes, I could do this. I just needed to be stubborn and not give up!

I am a big believer that you must keep plugging away and shout about your practice, including using social media or writing to magazines and shows.

What currently inspires you?

Colour, shape and pattern are my biggest inspirations. I also like a good challenge in taking something particularly bizarre and adding it into a textile context. If something has a hole in it, I will stitch it onto fabric. And if it doesn’t have a hole, I’ll drill one in!

My work is deliberately ambiguous in its theme. I enjoy hearing what people think the pieces look like, and for me, the main goal is to encourage curiosity and evoke a sense of playfulness and joy. I always say I create happy work only, with the colour really shouting out to you when you look at a piece of work.

I am also inspired by my recycling ideas and trying to give materials a new purpose by turning them into something beautiful.

Zero-waste art

Tell us about an artwork that holds fond memories…

Fragments is a large-scale three dimensional framed artwork created entirely using recycled straws, wires and dyed medical tubing. This piece really pushed me out of my comfort zone and started my love of more sculptural embroidery work. It took several months to stitch.

At the time, I was at a pivot point in my artistic journey. I was making work because I wanted to sell the work and not because I wanted to make the work. I hadn’t yet realised that creating something I put my all into would be stronger than something made for commercial purposes.

I sent photographs of the piece to various magazines and shows, and it landed me a feature in several international textile magazines. And it is still a piece I enjoy taking to shows, including the International Quilt Festival in Tokyo, Japan (2020) and the Art Textiles Made in Britain exhibition (2021).

How has your work developed and evolved?

My work has evolved and grown up along with myself! I started my journey being quite hesitant and unsure. But my frustration at the lack of interesting sequins and beads led to me becoming more aware of zero waste practices. I now make a conscious effort to recycle and use up unloved materials in my embroidery work.

My sense of colour has also changed and grown stronger.

An exciting personal development has been the idea of creating highly sculptural 3-D embroidery pieces that break out of the format of framed artwork. I enjoy the challenge of stitching vertically, and that, combined with large-scale work, gives me lots of future installation ideas.

And in 2023, I achieved my goal of writing a book about my processes and ideas, when Stitched Mixed Media was published by Crowood Press.

Largely self-taught, Pat masterfully reduces her subjects to their necessary elements in ways that still tell big stories. She isn’t focused on the details, and that’s a good thing. Her use of strong shapes, colour and pattern lead to incredible fabric mashups that communicate rich shadows and textures. 

Pat is generously sharing her appliqué and fusing techniques that serve as the foundation for her quilts. You’ll be surprised at the variety of fabrics and other materials she uses. As long as something doesn’t melt under her trusty iron, it’s a worthy candidate.

She explains about her method for using watercolour on fabric, as well as offering her refreshing takes on planning and imperfection.

Welcome to Pat’s world of simple abstracted beauty.

A path to self-discovery

Pat Baum Bishop: I remember drawing simple images on white fabric with a pencil and then stitching them with embroidery floss. Other embroidery projects included pillowcases and a tablecloth. I also did many crewel work pieces and counted cross stitch projects.

I begged my mother to teach me to use her sewing machine when I was 10 and started to make my own clothing.

When my children were young, I spent many years making traditional quilts. I eventually moved on to art quilting and experimenting with fabric manipulation.

Although I am mostly a self-taught artist, numerous teachers and many workshops have helped me along the way. 

Laura Cater-Woods was inspirational for two reasons. Somehow, she got me to vocalise my lifelong desire to be an artist at the age of 50. Once I said it out loud, it seemed to materialise. 

She also instilled in me the motto ‘do what you know, and the rest will follow’. When I was overwhelmed by too many choices, she’d say: ‘Do what you know how to do right now, and after that, you’ll figure out the next step’.

Yvonne Porcella was the first to teach me how to abstract an image. And Sue Benner also taught me different methods for creating abstract art. 

Simple abstraction

I work mostly with textiles, though I love to paint with acrylics and watercolours on paper and fabric. My love of abstraction steers my work, and my approach to abstraction is largely through simplification. 

Much of my work is about preserving memories. 

Lately I’ve been painting my backgrounds using watered down acrylic paint on white whole cloth fabric. I really like gradated fabric for my backgrounds, but they’re hard to find. Painting my own is even better. And it’s a very intuitive process.

During the pandemic, I took an online abstract painting class with UK instructor Louise Fletcher, cohost of the podcast Art Juice. Her class gave me confidence to play with paint, and I love it.

While most of my work is abstract, I also enjoy creating more representational work through watercolour painting on white whole cloth fabric with added machine quilting. 

“Almost all my pieces have a very special meaning to me – I wouldn’t be able to do them successfully otherwise.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist

Creative process

I usually start a work with a personal photo. I sometimes use an app that converts photos into watercolour style images, called Waterlogue, which helps me see my images in a simplified view. 

If I’m creating a bird or animal, some research is also involved to familiarise myself with the subject. 

Starting with the photo, I see how it looks in Waterlogue. I make a very small value study, usually a Post-It note size. That study helps me determine how to work with my light, medium and dark tones. 

I simplify my image, but I still don’t have everything laid out at this stage. The most planning I do is what my finished size will be, depending on if it will be bound or framed. 

“I’m not one who has everything worked out ahead of time – I enjoy finding happy accidents and problem solving.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist 

I work on my subject first, using a full-size cartoon that is fused to parchment paper. I always take into consideration the elements of design and composition. 

After the subject is complete, I audition backgrounds by laying the fused cartoon on top of my backgrounds to see what does and doesn’t work. Once I choose the right background, I quilt it before fusing the subject on top of it. 

After fusing the subject, I machine quilt it down and add any other thread painting it needs. 

“My work is not perfect, and I really don’t want it to be.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist

The value of imperfection

All my work is machine quilted on a sit-down Capri Handi Quilter with an 18″ throat. I don’t use a stitch regulator or rulers.

My style is somewhat cubist, and all my cuts are choppy. If I’m making any rounded cuts with my scissors, that’s a clue to myself that I’m trying too hard and it’s just not me.

Despite my quilts not being perfectly quilted, people seem to think they’re well done. I can find the flaws, but they’re not noticeable to the casual observer.

I truly believe my work is more relatable because it’s not perfect. Perfection is overrated. My work is more from the heart, if that makes sense. 

A bit of advice I was given was you need to make a few ‘sacrificial’ quilts. It takes practice to get good at anything, so I made several practice quilts. You can always donate them or make them for animal shelters.

It’s also good to take breaks every 30 minutes when machine quilting.

Fabrics galore

My list of potential fabric choices is long. I’ve used many different, and sometimes surprising, materials, including recycled clothing, silk, linen, damask, velveteen, denim, paper bags, men’s ties, old silk kimonos, paper towels. 

As long as materials don’t melt under my iron or shred under my needle, they’re good possibilities.

I love using silk for added texture and interest, though it should mostly read as a solid colour. And my stock of hand-dyed fabrics is fairly bottomless. 

I’m also an avid thrifter, though I do buy some commercial fabrics.

My fabrics are organised by colour in bookcases with sliding glass doors. Bins hold a good supply of pre-fused fabrics that are also organised by colour. 

“When it comes to choosing fabrics, if it can be ironed and fused, it works.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist

An old red barn

Red Barn looks very much like the one on my grandparents’ farm. I have so many wonderful memories of playing on the farm. Sadly, it’s no longer standing after being gobbled up by urban sprawl. 

The main fabric on the light side of the barn is monoprinted. I don’t have any real plan when dyeing or printing fabric other than having fun and using colours I like. I haven’t dyed fabric for several years now, because I have so much from when I was dyeing more regularly. I dye in the summer when it can be done outside in our garage. That way it can dry in the heat of the sun.

Environmental warning

Harbinger was inspired by my love of birds, but also by my worries about saving the planet. I wanted to send a message of ‘beware and be aware’ of how you live your life, as it all matters and has consequences for the earth. I felt the raven was an appropriate harbinger to send that message.

The background is hand painted in acrylics with an ominous tone. Although the raven looks mostly black, it’s actually made with many different textures of black, dark navy silk, velveteen, wovens and more.

“There’s a saying ‘colour gets all the credit, but value does all the work’ – I kind of live by that rule or at least try to.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist

Contrast is more important than colour, and that is more my focus. I use colours I love and then contrast them by using light or bright against dark values. Everyone has their favorite colours. Mine are blue, especially turquoise, and there’s a lot of green in my work. 

Also, when working with textiles, it’s important to take advantage of their textures – that’s a bonus you don’t see so much in other art forms. Working with fabrics that all have the same texture, or the same line of fabric, can be very boring. I suggest using a variety of textures and a range of values in fabric choices. 

Watercolour on fabric

I painted watercolours on paper in the distant past, but within the last five years, I started up again using fabric. I had seen similar work by textile artist Donna Deaver and loved the watercolour effect.

Ford Abandoned was inspired by a photo of an old Ford truck that’s been sitting up north near our cabin. I had always wanted to do something with the image, and this was my first attempt. I’ve done many more since.

Andrew Wyeth is my favourite watercolour artist. I love the moodiness of his painting, and his settings are often farm-like. His paintings speak to me.

For my watercolour process, I draw the outline and details with pencil on tightly woven white fabric. Then I make a quilt sandwich with a backing, batting and the white fabric on top, drawn side up. I free-motion stitch the pencil drawing with black thread, not perfectly of course. 

I apply a combination of watercolour paints, water and clear aloe vera gel to paint selected areas. The aloe vera gel keeps the paint and water from creeping where it doesn’t belong. The piece is then finished with additional quilting in the open large expanses.

Watercolours often have a bit of white space from the white paper background that allows the viewer to fill in the blanks and finish the story. It’s what draws you in and makes you stay and ponder what is happening in the composition. And I believe that’s why I like simplified abstract art. It allows the viewer to fill in the unfinished parts. 

Maker’s space

My home studio is upstairs with lots of natural light and a great view of the lake we live on. It leads to a deck for reading, relaxing or just sitting.

I designed the space with a large walk-in closet to store many of my supplies. I also have a large drafting table where I work on my compositions, as opposed to a design wall. It can be tilted, and a doubled wool blanket covers at least half the table creating a large ironing surface.

It’s very adequate and I love my space. Although, since I’m doing more painting, I’d prefer having a wood floor instead of carpet. There is also a desk, TV, couch and lots of power outlets. I love my couch and my view.

I work with a Janome 6600 domestic sewing machine and a Capri 18″ throat HandiQuilter. My other must-have tools are my sharp shears and iron.

“Being away from the main living space allows for leaving a big mess, but mostly, it provides solitude.”

Pat Baum Bishop, Textile artist 

Christi also uses her needle and thread as an active pathway to mindfulness. She immerses herself in a meditative stitching process that allows her to remain in the present moment. Every stitch and thread carries intention, creating a calm and reflective ritual. 

Her portfolio is diverse, including clothing, traditional embroideries and stuffed sculptures – all her pieces are united through incredible artisanship. Simple stitches combine to suggest complex and interconnected themes that are colourful and engaging.

Enjoy this look into Christi’s magical world where the body, mind and soul truly come together through stitch.

Ripple effect

Christi Johnson: Born into piles of scrap fabrics and bottles of tie dye, garment design and construction has been my life path. I’m an artist, author and teacher, and my work focuses on how influential artmaking can be, in all areas of our lives.

Taking an idea, figuring out the steps to bring it into reality, then taking inspired action is how we learn to create change in our world. Initially, it’s on a small scale but then this power tends to ripple out into other areas of our life.

To encourage this experience in others, I make my style of teaching as easy to understand as possible. That way the student can quickly feel capable of their ability to turn my teachings into their own creations.

“Creative practice is liberating.” 

Christi Johnson, Textile artist

Meditative mindset

My work is an exploration of themes of spirituality, transcendence and evolution. This feeling really began to emerge after I started a meditation practice. 

Although I don’t have a consistent meditation practice now, I try to bring those same qualities to whatever I’m doing. By being present in everyday experiences – whether chopping vegetables or folding laundry – I can still connect with that cosmic feeling of transcendence.

This mindset has been supported by a shift in lifestyle from a busy fashion job in a big, glorious city, to a quiet home with a summer garden and a few sassy chickens. It isn’t any easier than a city life, but it does feel more authentic to my introverted personality.

After living in cities for my entire adult life, this move to a rural area allowed me the mental and physical space to explore artistic themes of mythology and its connection to the natural world. 

The cyclical nature of the seasons, witnessing the death and rebirth of plant life and the necessity of elements like fire and water allowed these ancient stories to exist in a context where they were suddenly more relevant. 

“When my needle and thread travel through the fabric, it’s as though I’m connected to the past, present and future all at once.”

Christi Johnson, Textile artist

Myths & legends

Moving to the mountains has had a huge impact on me and my artwork. Having grown up in Florida and then lived in Los Angeles, California for ten years, I was used to climates where winter doesn’t exist. 

Every year I witness how plants completely die down to the ground, only to be reborn – and this never gets old. Every year I ask, how long will it be before this transformation ceases to fascinate me? A decade on and it hasn’t happened yet.

Each year, I too get to go on my own underground journey and find my own myths and legends.

These stories of ancient mythology often have me recoiling in horror at the violence and injustice, the raw truth of our capabilities. However, this helps to frame life’s experiences in a larger picture – like feeling microscopic when surrounded by a vast, epic landscape – but in myth, the experience of awe runs the gamut from awesome to awful. 

“I have the chance to reflect on how the myths and legends of the past are a thread running through my own experience.”

Christi Johnson, Textile artist

We live in a cyclical world where pendulums swing and the end is always leaving us at the beginning. The beginning of what? That’s up for us to create.

One thing that continues to come up is humanity’s ability to create, no matter what has been destroyed. So, I keep on making art because that’s what feeds and fuels me – and keeps me writing new stories.

Enchanted stuffies

I recently got an itch to start making stuffed sculptures. It was simply for the fun of taking a dream and turning it into a reality. 

After months of studying my daughter’s stuffed animals, I started to see the similarities in techniques between sewing garments to fit a form and sewing animals to create a form. 

I became enchanted with the reduction required to express these animals on a much smaller scale as well as the potential for decoration these blank canvases possessed.

In my Stitch Club workshop, I show members  how to develop stuffed forms based on nature’s creatures. I use the project to explore how witnessing the lifestyles and rhythms of nature’s creatures allows us to better understand ourselves through the power of myth. 

The technique for making these flat stuffed creatures is very simple. However, the opportunity for decoration on a flat form provides a greater opportunity for learning new ways of stitching than an overly complex pattern would. 

It’s also an opportunity for learning new methods of expression through these animals and the stories we get to tell through them.

Mind wandering

I’m never without my sketchbook. I don’t have a great memory, so it serves as an external memory bank. I can frequently return to it to shape ideas or concepts that may still feel half-baked. 

However, while my sketchbook is where all these themes are recorded, my ideas actually arise in that mental space as I’m drifting off into dreamland. 

Despite proving this time and time again, I find it hilarious that I’ll still find myself staring at the blank page, pencil in hand, hoping to push ideas through. Usually this leads to a frustration that can only be resolved by closing my eyes, taking a walk in nature or making something to eat or drink. At this point I remember – that’s right, I was using my logical mind. 

The ideas that really light me up and take me to unexpected places always come from stepping away from the blank page – or any page for that matter. 

Once I have an idea, I sketch into it in as many ways as I can – trying to push the limits of the concept, seeing how it manifests in a variety of shapes and fashions. 

“Letting the mind wander, with eyes closed or focused on the natural world, is as integral to my process as a pen or pencil.”

Christi Johnson, Textile artist

Digital fine-tuning

After this stage, I generally bring in technology to refine my work. This might include scanning or photographing the drawing and playing with composition. Or if the drawing and imagery feel complete, I’ll move directly into planning colours. I’m always refining colour palettes in a digital format.

Despite being technologically resistant, the markup tool on my iPhone is my most valuable tool after mind wandering. It’s been transformative for my process and has probably saved me thousands of hours. It allows me to play with a variety of colour variations and quickly see what doesn’t work. No ripping out of stitches needed!

You don’t need a precise drawing to see if a certain colour combination is working. I prefer to spend my time reviewing options rather than painstakingly re-creating my drawing with a fingertip on a cell phone. I keep precision for my stitching.

“When using digital colour options, I recommend allowing them to be wildly imperfect.

My drawings often look like very loose scribbles.”

Christi Johnson, Textile artist

Zero-waste creativity

While working in the fashion industry I saw firsthand how much waste was created in the production of garments – however resourceful one tries to be, unfortunately it’s the reality of the process. 

This influenced my movement towards more sustainable, zero-waste options for my creations. 

I try to purchase natural materials – preferably re-used, off-cuts or deadstock – and from companies that are concerned with the health and livelihood of all the human hands that touch the materials on the way to my door. 

Reusing materials not only reduces the environmental impact but also provides a fun challenge. I enjoy the limitations of using just a few skeins of a vintage silk, or a half yard of some incredible linen.

Environmental impact is always at the forefront of my mind; however, I don’t obsess over everything needing to be upcycled. Sometimes I need a specific colour such as a perfect citrine yellow cotton to finish a project. I’m okay with grabbing a length from my local store and not worrying about my single purchase contributing to the downfall of our ecosystems. 

There’s no way I can produce work at a speed that could be considered unsustainable in the long run. My greatest advice would be to look at the materials you already have. Trade with a friend or see what offcuts your local fabric store has. The inspiration gained from these mystery materials is likely to trigger a whole new way of thinking about your work.

“I believe it’s all about balance. Besides, slow methods are inherently more ecologically minded.”

Christi Johnson, Textile artist

Must-have tools

If I can’t see it, it’s not there! This means I’m always searching for the best way to view materials that allows them to be seen but isn’t a chaotic mess. It’s important to me that all my colours be visible therefore I organise my materials accordingly. 

I store my fabric in open baskets, each stacked vertically with the folded edge up (like files in a filing cabinet). I store them in rainbow order and categorised by weight so I easily know what project any piece will suit.

For my threads, I have acrylic drawers. These are one of my exceptions to the ‘no plastic in the studio’ rule. Each drawer is about 5cm (2”) deep and the length of a skein of floss and contains a single hue or two. 

I can pull out all the drawers and view all of my floss at once or simply scan the front of the drawer for the colour I need. This has been transformative for keeping my embroidery threads organised. I use too many threads to wrap them all on the little cards, so I just let these drawers be a little chaotic and tidy them up every few months as needed.

Years ago, we had a clothing moth infestation, so we are religious about keeping wool under lock and key. The moths have left, but this rule hasn’t. 

For my wool yarns, I use clear Tupperware bins with a foam sealed gusset (another exception to ‘no plastics in the studio’). Honestly, these are one of the best studio investments I’ve ever made!

The cool sister

The most influential experiences for me were in the home. My mother’s textile art practice stretched throughout our house: stitching up wall hangings and cushions, knitting us all intarsia sweaters on her knitting machine. Although I’m not sure why we needed so many sweaters in tropical south Florida! 

At a very young age, my sister studied fashion design at the local community college. Since she was by far the coolest person I knew, I was obsessed with watching how she made clothes from scratch – the patterns, the books, the scraps – all of it was fascinating.

I went on to study fashion, and while working in the fashion industry had the pleasure of working for a designer who manufactured in-house. I worked in the fashion industry for about a decade, and while I truly love the creative aspect of making clothes, the manufacturing and production aspect felt all too much. 

In 2015, I founded Mixed Color, a textile studio in the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York. Here I create original garments as well as develop embroidered elements to add to vintage garments.

“There is no version of life I could have imagined that did not include handmade, vibrantly colourful designs everywhere.”

Christi Johnson, Textile artist

Play & explore

It’s important to make time to play with the materials, play with techniques and just explore without any expectations. 

This is something I’m working with myself right now. I have so little free time while taking care of a toddler. I can’t exactly take out a needle and do a little experimenting. I know so many people are in a similar position, whether that’s due to a toddler, a puppy, an aging parent or partner, a stressful living situation, or a job that requires a significant amount of time and brain space.

When we’re really busy and have a thousand immediate priorities, we can put the creative part of our practice on the backburner. I don’t just mean the production part of the process, which is also incredibly important, but the creativity that can only emerge from play and experimentation.

When we keep putting this off, it’s a great time to take stock and reflect. I ask myself which part of me thinks art is any less valuable than everything else I do, and why am I putting art to the end of the list? 

The longer you put off play and experimentation, the harder it gets. Those ‘new ideas’ muscles start to calcify and seize up. They’ll need to be warmed and stretched much more when finally, you do get back to them.

Getting unstuck

So often when we’re feeling stuck, it’s our logical mind trying to make sense of a process that is inherently nonsensical. So, I try to dive into that by bringing in elements of the unknown such as exploring the dream world or ancient mythology. 

For me it often looks like pulling out a tarot card or looking at the current astrological positions. Before you roll your eyes or feel a sense of constriction, I hope you’ll consider how these mysteries can be expansive rather than predictive or contradictory of free will.

The mystical and the spiritual and the woo can be so annoying, because we want to explain exactly why or how something happened. Yet these experiences quite often are flying in the face of logic and don’t make sense.

How does a tarot deck work? How does astrology affect us? 

These questions can’t be answered, yet we still sit here thinking we know everything – despite knowing what less than 10% of the brain is used for. 

Next time you feel stuck, let yourself be influenced by a bit of mystery. You don’t need an explanation for everything. 

As a young art student in the 90’s, Emma Cassi fell in love with fashion designer Dries Van Noten’s intricate and colourful embroidered scarves. Her student budget, however, offered no hope of ownership, so Emma tried to create her own scarf. That experiment would set Emma on a textile art journey for years to come.

Emma has a passion for working with what’s on hand, describing it as both an inventive and resourceful approach to making. She also loves the ‘alchemy’ of creating her own dyes from her natural surroundings. Who knew red mud could create such magical textures and colours?

We’re excited to share Emma’s diverse portfolio that’s aesthetically and spiritually connected. Emma literally lives and breathes her creative process, and it’s a wonderful reminder of how the process is as valuable as the end result.

It started with a scarf

Emma Cassi: My mum was a fine seamstress, and both of my grandmothers were incredible with needles and textiles. One of my grandmothers spent her time crocheting in her armchair, and the other repaired garments and socks to perfection.

I completed a year of Art History at university and then enrolled in the Beaux-Arts in Dijon, France. I didn’t work with textiles for my coursework, but I started embroidering in my spare time. It was like a hobby, and I was very bad at it in the beginning. 

While studying, I attended Ann Hamilton’s solo exhibition in Lyon (1997) where I had a big revelation. A peacock was running free in a room with floating red fabric hung across the ceiling, and big, white textile panels with embroidered poems hung from the ceiling to the floor. It was the first conceptual textile art I had seen. It touched me because it was poetic, beautiful, and so unusual. 

At the same time, Dries Van Noten was using embroidery from India in his designs. Art and fashion were mixing, and it was a very interesting time. Embroidery wasn’t as fashionable in 1996 – it was either in museums or in grannies’ wardrobes.  

Van Noten’s use of delicate beadwork, stunning mixes of colors and patterns were exquisite. His designs and collaboration with the best artisans in the world made him one of the best fashion designers.

Of course, I couldn’t afford any of Van Noten’s scarves, so I tried making them myself. That was the beginning of a 20-year training endeavour and my relationship with fabric, needles and threads.

Vegetal alchemy

My connection to alchemy began by chance at the Wellcome Collection Library where I assisted with the translation of an old alchemical book written in French. At the time, I was studying herbalism, and I was captivated by the art of ‘spagery’ – transforming plants into medicinal essences. 

Rudolf Steiner’s Alchemy of the Everyday further deepened my interest, and in 2018, my curiosity led me to begin dyeing fabrics using herbal infusions.

I work with natural materials such as plants, mud and powders, and I use rainwater or mountain water to allow the elements to influence the outcome. Fabrics are left outside to interact with the sun, wind and rain, creating unpredictable and organic patterns. 

The process is as important as the result, embracing imperfection and spontaneity. I never repeat the same mixture or method, which makes each piece unique. Alchemy and vegetal come to life as a dialogue between materials and elements. Transformation is at the heart of my creations, and the journey is as meaningful as the final work. 

“For me, ‘vegetal’ represents the raw, untamed energy of nature. So, my approach to fabric dyeing is wild and intuitive.”

Emma Cassi, Embroidery artist 

Avocado skins & berries

I love using avocado skins and pits, turmeric powder, and berries I find in nature, such as blackberries. Pomegranate skins and leaves also play a big role in my dyeing process. The plants I choose often reflect where I am. For example, when I lived in England, I worked with nettles. Now in Spain, rosemary has become a staple.

Bundle dyeing is one of my favourite techniques. It’s such a joyful process, where petals, flowers, leaves and anything found in nature comes together to create unique, unpredictable patterns. 

“The magic lies in the transformation – ordinary materials become vibrant colours, often in surprising ways.” 

Emma Cassi, Embroidery artist 

Flea market treasures

I often visit the vibrant El Rastro Sunday morning flea market in Madrid, Spain. It’s a wonderful place to uncover unique treasures and fabrics. However, I still have a deep connection to the flea markets and brocantes in my hometown of Dijon, France, to source vintage materials.

I’ve been collecting a lot of linen lately to make curtains. I then repurpose leftover pieces for other projects. I also recently came across a beautiful collection of vintage handkerchiefs that I’m transforming with embroidery.

Upcycled cotton bed linens with holes or stains are also appealing. I enjoy their well-worn softness and am inspired by the fact they’ve been washed countless times. I’m giving them a second life, breathing new stories into materials that witnessed so many dreams. 

Vintage threads are also lovely, particularly cotton and silk. They have a unique texture and quality that often tells a story, enhancing the narrative aspect of my pieces.

Occasionally I’ve come across collections of old threads, which feel like little treasures waiting to be revived. They bring a timeless elegance to my stitching, making each piece feel deeply connected to the past. 

African beadwork

Shortly after designing some masks for Hand & Lock, I travelled to Kenya where I fell in love with the incredible artistry of African beadwork. I saw sacred works including Masai jewellery, Yoruba beaded chains from Nigeria, wire-beaded animals and stunning wall hangings. They were truly magical and left a deep impression on me. 

When I returned, I began creating 3D portraits as a way to continue my intimate connection with Kenya’s cultural richness and my passion for beading embroidery. 

I had already explored intricate beadwork and sequins in my jewellery-making practice. However, transitioning those techniques to textile art brought new challenges, particularly in creating the 3D effect. I experimented with adding stuffing to specific areas which required a balance between structure and flexibility to ensure it was still easy to embroider upon. 

Mastering that method was a huge win, as it opened new possibilities for depth and texture. Seeing how the beadwork transforms a flat surface into something alive and dimensional has been incredibly rewarding. 

Beading advice

My advice for readers wanting to add beadwork to their textile art is to start by exploring different types of beads to find what resonates with them, whether it’s their textures, colours or materials. It’s good to experiment with various sizes to see what looks best or feels most natural.

Beading is a tactile and intuitive process, so take time to play, experiment and let your creativity guide you. Don’t be afraid to mix materials or create your own techniques. There’s no right or wrong way to incorporate beads into your art. 

In my Stitch Club workshop, I share my tips and ideas so that members can create a captivating 3D portrait inspired by African beading traditions. By mixing trapunto and intricate beadwork they can form unusual and striking faces with 3D, contoured elements.

I hope students embrace the joy of intuitive creation and see the transformative power of blending materials. More importantly, I want them to experience the magic of creating something deeply personal and see how each step in the journey is as meaningful as the finished piece.  

Wearable embroidery

My garment named Seedling was inspired by a friend and our shared connection to the Cistus plant, which is sometimes called rockrose. We first met because of that plant: she had it in a vase in her studio, and I immediately recognized its amazing wild scent and told her it was my favourite. 

That conversation not only sparked a friendship, but also a jewellery collaboration, and later, a performance featuring this kimono and skirt. 

I wrote a poem for my friend, that blended the story of the rockrose with our own journey and I stitched the poem into the garment. The garment’s colors were inspired by a cave in the countryside where she wore it during our performance. 

I dyed recycled cotton bed linen with mud, indigo and henna. The embroidery was done outdoors during the summer to capture the essence of nature’s textures and spirit. The piece symbolizes a deep intertwining friendship, memory and the natural world. 

Mud dyeing

This body of work is deeply inspired by my life in the hills of the Valencia region, where I embrace a way of living that is closely connected to nature. Every day I walk through the wild landscapes, bathe in and drink fresh water from the mountains and live without electricity or the internet.

When we moved to Spain, we bought a house dating back to 1900. In the barn, I discovered an old, stained canvas which became the foundation for this series. I began experimenting with dyeing and printing using the red mud from the land surrounding the house.

I had been searching for a nude or pinkish tone for my dyework. When I noticed the stunning dark red and brownish mud in the Spanish landscape, I decided to dig a bit and experiment with dyeing fabric. To my delight, it worked beautifully. 

I hang the canvases in the attic and let buckets of fabric and red mud macerate for months. This slow natural process allows the materials to transform over time, creating unique textures and patterns that reflect the essence of the place and its rhythm. 

“Dyeing with mud allows me to connect deeply with the place, transforming a forgotten material into something meaningful and alive with the spirit of its origins.”

Emma Cassi, Embroidery artist

Meditative silk landscapes

After injuring myself from years of intensive embroidery on lace for jewellery, I had to pause and step away. These silk panels became my way back to embroidery. Working with silk provided a healing framework by allowing me to use my needle on the soft, delicate fabric without straining my shoulder. I was able to reconnect with my craft gradually and gently.

The silk panels offer a beautiful canvas on which to explore embroidery and colour. I used vintage threads, combining silk, cotton and fine wool to create layers of texture and richness. The process is deeply meditative, and the softness and thinness of the fabric demand patience and care.

Over the past six years, this practice has evolved into an integral part of my creative journey, merging healing and artistry. 

The new gold

I love how I can transform everyday materials into jewellery that is both precious and meaningful. The collection I created for the Seedling project felt like an exciting and effervescent process – it came together over just a few months. 

I embroidered hundreds of seeds collected from making butternut and pumpkin soup every day. The variety of shades and shapes inspired me. I dyed the silk with henna, turmeric and indigo which created a rich, textured finish. 

I think the collection showcases a rare blend of Edwardian elegance and ethnic aesthetics. Each piece has been thoughtfully crafted to evoke the essence of ritualistic objects, embodying the spirit of talismans imbued with meaning and artistry.

People also resonated with the story behind the seeds as being ‘the new gold’. Wearing the embroidered seeds and regarding them as something precious became a beautiful metaphor for valuing the legend of the fertility deity named Kokopelli, as well as bringing attention to a seed saving project that inspired the collection.

During that time, the definition of ‘fine art’ was being critically examined: what made something ‘fine art’ versus ‘fine craft’? Could something functional also be considered fine art?

Textile artists weighed in with a resounding ‘yes’ by reimagining quilts in ways that emphasized design over function. They deviated from traditional, historical blocks and patterns to create abstract works, landscape designs, portraiture and more.

Then those quilters displayed their works by hanging them on walls rather than spreading them across a bed. Ultimately, fine art galleries started paying attention, and as the saying goes, the rest is history.

The possibilities for designing and creating art quilts have exploded since then, and we’ve compiled a list of books that can help you tap into the excitement. Each book features clear instruction complemented by gorgeous illustrations and photos.

Most importantly, all of the books are authored by a well-known art quilter. Each of them approaches art quilting differently, but they all celebrate the possibilities.

It’s time to start adding some quilt art books to your bookshelf.

Art quilt collage

Looking to dip your toes into the art quilting world? Here’s a great book to start your journey.

You’re first introduced to eight design guides presented in simple diagrams. These basic layouts can then be applied to the book’s engaging work-along projects.

Design checklists help readers analyse their artistic choices and change layouts accordingly. And See what happens next exercises offer a more prescribed method for trying new approaches.

Deborah Boschert also gives you a look into her signature technique of incorporating meaningful symbols into her art quilts. You’ll learn how to create shapes and symbols that are special to you, as well as how to work in a series and finish small art pieces.

Deborah’s step-by-step imagery and clear instruction will help you unlock your own artistic vision.

Art quilt collage: A creative journey in fabric, paint & stitch by Deborah Boschert (2016)
^{ISBN  9781617452840}

Quilt out loud

Have something to say? Tap into the power of embedding stitched letters, numbers, words and sentences into your art quilts.

Quilt artist Thomas Knauer’s quilts follow the craftivism movement, and his art quilts emphasise social justice issues. Thomas knows the power of stitched text, and in his book, he gives you a look into his creative process. You’ll not only learn unique quilting techniques, but you’ll also discover how to choose and embed text in ways that have impact.

Each chapter focuses on a particular approach, including raw-edge appliqué, quilted text, binary numbers and Morse Code. Whether your theme is serious or whimsical, this book shows you how to combine aesthetics with powerful messaging using fabric and thread.

Quilt out loud: Activism, language & the art of quilting by Thomas Knauer (2023)
^{ISBN 9781644033227}

Stitching stolen lives

The Social Justice Sewing Academy (US) works with students to amplify voices, empower youth and build empathy through quilting.

Students learn to create quilt blocks that help them examine and express the systemic problems that plague their everyday lives. Stitching Stolen Lives offers an in-depth look into a special remembrance project. Youth designed quilt blocks that memorialise family and friends they lost due to social injustices.

You’ll learn about the remarkable journey each student took to find their voice through the art of quilting. You’ll be amazed and moved by the students’ extraordinary quilt portraits and reading about the personal stories that inspired them.

This book also includes a resource section on how to talk about racial equity and how to use art as a tool to aid self-expression.

Stitching stolen lives: Amplifying voices, empowering youth & building empathy through quilts by Sara Trail and Teresa Duryea Wong (2021)
^{ISBN 9781644031384}

Create landscape quilts

It’s time to pull out those travel pictures and start quilting!

Learn how to create unique art quilts featuring your favourite places. Meri Henriques Vahl shares a simple method for designing realistic quilted nature scenes and villages. Using photographs from her travels, Meri explains how she achieves stunning scenery with lifelike details in her art quilts.

Various techniques, including fabric collage and tulle overlay, help quilters of all levels learn to quilt majestic mountainscapes, charming buildings and realistic people. Easy-to-follow instructions complemented by a stunning gallery of quilts will inspire you to turn your travel photos into lovely art quilts.

Create landscape quilts by Meri Henriques Vahl (2021)
^{ISBN 9781644030127}

Creating art quilts with panels

Discover how to transform fabric panels and thread into one-of-a-kind art quilts.

Award-winning quilter Joyce Hughes demonstrates dimensional thread painting, raw edge applique, and a variety of embellishments to make seasonal panels, beautiful florals, and panel replicas like Van Gogh’s Starry Nights.

From simple beading to more advanced three-dimensional pieces, Joyce presents her techniques across six projects that feature detailed photographs and a step-by-step format.

Discover how to make your quilt pop and explore endless options for creativity with free-motion quilting, thread painting, trapunto, overlay, three-dimensional effects, machine techniques, raw edge applique, and a variety of embellishments.

Creating art quilts with panels by Joyce Hughes (2019)
^{ISBN 9781947163164}

Capture your own life with collage quilting

It’s time to get personal.

Whether you’re celebrating your pet’s personality, preserving a memory from a family holiday or recreating your favourite flower, this book teaches you a simple technique to create a stunning and personal art quilt.

Jane Haworth shares her fun, easy, and addictive quilting method that doesn’t require hundreds of pattern pieces. That’s why it’s perfect for quilters of all skill levels.

Twelve different project ideas feature a variety of styles and themes, including animals, flowers, houses, musical instruments and landscapes. You’ll start by learning how to choose a photograph or image and make enlargements to create a pattern.

Then Jane explains how to choose the right background fabrics, master some free-motion quilting techniques, and finish and display your quilt.

Capture your own life with collage quilting by Jane Haworth (2023)
^{ISBN 9781639810222}

At play in the garden of stitch

This book is all about free-motion fun in art quilting.

Paula Kovarik shares approaches to free-motion stitching that are approachable, engaging and multi-layered. You’ll be encouraged to explore how stitching can bring depth to composition, texture to emotions and line to ideas.

In addition to simple stitching and drawing exercises, Paula shares examples and inspirations for how to approach this art form. Pictures of her award-winning art quilts illustrate her techniques and clarify her process.

Close-up photos of stitching also inspire readers to try their hand at Paula’s techniques. And her technical tips and stories of her successes and failures make this a wonderful read.

At play in the garden of stitch by Paula Kovarik (2021)
^{ISBN 9780578920047}

And finally…

Here’s a list of additional older books that may just become your new firm favourites (although could be a little more difficult to find). Check thrift shops, libraries, second-hand bookstores, and other online book sites to source these titles.

• Inspired by design: Seven steps to successful art quilting by Elizabeth Barton (2013) ISBN 9781607056348
• Visual guide to working in a series: Next steps in inspired design by Elizabeth Barton (2014) ISBN 9781607056614
• Point, click, quilt! by Susan Knapp (2011) ISBN 9781607052265
• Journey to inspired art quilting: More intuitive color and design by Jean Wells (2012) ISBN 9781607055808

Featured picks

• Art quilt collage by Deborah Boschert (2016)
• Quilt out loud: activism, language & the art of quilting by Thomas Knauer (2023)
• Stitching stolen lives by Sara Trail and Teresa Duryea Wong (2021)
• Create landscape quilts by Meri Henriques Vahl (2021)
• Creating art quilts with panels by Joyce Hughes (2019)
• Capture your own life with collage quilting by Jane Haworth (2023)
• At play in the garden of stitch by Paula Kovarik (2021)

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Interested in more great books for learning textile techniques? Check out our list of books in which expert textile artists share their processes.

Do you have a favourite book about art quilting you can add to our list? Please share by leaving a comment below.