You might think such extensive mash-ups could lead to art that overwhelms, but that’s hardly the case. April expertly balances colour and composition to create cohesive works that are surprisingly neat at first glance. Even upon close inspection, April’s layers of texture and pattern seamlessly merge and often surprise the eye.

In addition to offering us a look into her process and favourite things, April also shares how renowned UK textile artists helped her discover the power of simple stitches and inspired her to let go of her need for control. She explains how Constance Howard and others have taught her that self-expression doesn’t have to be complicated when it comes to stitchwork. And we think you’ll agree.

Apron strings

April Sproule: My earliest memory of making something with textiles is making an apron with my maternal grandmother, Grandma Ollie, when I was seven years old. She was a tiny woman who lived in a small house filled with things she had made. She loved to sew, knit and paint.

I remember carefully cutting out the apron on her kitchen table and sewing it on her portable Singer sewing machine. Her patience was infinite as she taught me those brand-new skills. I was amazed we had made something useful out of seemingly nothing with a scrap of fabric and some thread.

Around the same time my paternal grandmother, Grandma Petersen, began teaching me to do hand sewing and stitching. She taught me how to cut old clothing into squares using a cardboard template. Those hand-pieced squares would later become a quilt top. She also taught me hand embroidery and lace making.

I have very fond memories of being sequestered away in one of their homes on rainy winter days happily stitching away for hours. It’s no wonder sewing and stitching are now like breathing to me. They are something I have always done, and those basic skills would go through many transformations in years to follow. Back then, I had no idea how those early experiences would impact my life.

Textile artist inspiration

During high school, I participated in a work study programme that involved writing a business plan and starting my first little business. I set about making a variety of leather goods, clothing and bags to sell at local shops and galleries.

After learning the technical skills I badly needed, at the San Francisco School of Fashion Design, I worked for several different US and Canadian manufacturers. My area of expertise was new product development and production management for companies making leather goods, accessories and clothing. Since 2001, I’ve been a full-time studio artist working as both a designer and workshop facilitator.

In 2011, I developed a commercial collection of 25 stencil designs inspired by Japanese Katagami stencils for painting on fabric. I began using the stencils for all sorts of things while teaching my painting techniques to others. I started making upcycled clothing for myself and linen bags to sell with the stencils, and then I added hand stitching to them. The stencilling and hand stitching worked well together. Next came a collection of hand embroidery patterns and kits in 2015.

Shortly after that, I started seeing online images from UK textile artists who were doing amazing work using hand stitching. I was especially inspired by Mandy Pattullo, Claire Wellesley-Smith, Louise Baldwin, Cas Holmes and Aideen Canning. These incredible women not only eradicated the notion of creating perfect little stitches, but they used stitching in such an expressive and expansive manner. Theirs was a much freer and innovative style of hand stitch that appealed to me on many levels.

I admired those artists’ ability to move away from the expected and express their own unique, wild and wonderful styles.

It was as if a door had opened, and anything was possible on the other side of that threshold.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Freestyle stitching

My new norm became letting go of the need for control and embracing the idea of self-expression.

Upon further investigation, everything led back to the work and influence of Constance Howard. I pored over her books, and my entire perspective on hand stitching changed tremendously. I didn’t necessarily change the stitches I used, but I became mindful of how those stitches were used. One simple stitch could be used in 20 or more different variations.

When I developed my collection of hand embroidery patterns, I thought using lots of different complex or unusual stitches added more interest.

Constance Howard took a different approach. It was more about starting with one simple stitch and then tweaking it, contorting it, and reimagining all its possibilities.

Now as I go back and look through Constance’s books, I especially love seeing her illustrations. These days I see hand stitching as another form of mark making. And as I switch back and forth between pen and ink illustration and my hand stitching, each medium provides inspiration for the other.

I studied Constance Howard’s approach and realised the complexity of stitches wasn’t as important as I’d first thought.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Natural inspirations

I am inspired by many things, but my greatest inspiration comes from nature. Nature provides me with a never-ending treasure trove of ideas. It could be insects, botanical specimens or even diatoms and other microscopic images that pique my interest and beg me to take a closer look.

I live in an astonishingly diverse beautiful area in northern California. In just a few minutes, I can be exploring tide pools along our rugged coastline or trek deep into a Redwood forest where rays of sunlight pierce the thick canopy of branches and illuminate the areas below in a spectacular display.

Things that are in a state of erosion or decomposition are much more interesting than a perfect specimen. And surface design with textiles, pen and ink illustration, printmaking, collage, and watercolour are all mediums that supply me with lots of ideas and inspiration.

I’m interested in capturing the essence of my subject matter, rather than in replicating it in a photorealistic way.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Creative sketches

My work is developed in different ways, but it usually begins with a feeling or mood I want to convey. Early in the morning, I often work in a little handmade book where I experiment with different ways of combining paper, fabric and stitch in new and interesting ways that can lead to larger projects. 

Often my work begins with what I call a production sketch. It’s just a vague idea and a starting point, but it’s a very important step because it takes what only exists in my mind into the physical world where it becomes tangible.

Introducing colour

Next comes colour, which is one of the most valuable design elements. Colour is what first attracts or repels viewers to our work. I usually start with white fabric or pieces on which I’ve applied some sort of surface design techniques.

Scale, the overall finished size of the piece, comes next. Are the details going to be lost if a person sees it from a distance? Those choices inform all my decisions on which mediums to use.

I’ve learned to worked much more intuitively. All I need is one idea to get started. It could be the colour green and then everything develops from there.

Every piece I make takes me on a journey of learning and exploration.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Figuring things out

I feel incredibly fortunate because I rarely get really stuck on a piece and give up on it. I am good at problem solving and figuring things out. It seems like a waste of time, energy and materials to give up on a piece and not finish it.

When I start a new project that is very involved, I clean up my studio and put everything in its place. Initially clutter can be a distraction, but that’s only in the beginning. Once my ideas start to flow, it is total chaos. I don’t clean up until the project is completely done.

Mixing things up

I use a wide variety of mixed media on fabric and paper. I especially enjoy working with dyes, paints, stencilling, printing, pen and ink, cyanotypes, and hand or machine stitch. Learning to do all of these things has been so much fun!

I’ve done lots of shibori dyeing with Procion dyes and indigo over the years. It’s so exciting to unwrap the cloth and see what has happened. And now I have all those fabrics to choose from and add to my textile art.

Using paints and inks on fabric and paper has been a great addition to my work. I use textile paints that don’t alter the hand of the fabric, and I’m pretty picky about that. I also love using walnut ink, sumi ink and India inks. Sometimes I just sit and draw stripes or dots with a pen or brush. Then it’s fun finding new ways to incorporate those pieces into my work.

I am also experimenting a lot with different papers. I won’t use papers that are either too delicate or too hard to stitch through. I still have a lot to learn about different types of paper, but that’s part of the research and excitement of learning something new.

Favourite fabrics

My absolute favourite fabrics to work with are linen, cotton sateen and silk. I use both vintage and new fabrics, but many of the vintage fabrics are just wonderful to work with. The linen is like butter to stitch through, and I love the texture of it. 

My next favourite fabric is cotton sateen, as the weave gives it a subtle sheen. It has a very nice hand, dyes beautifully and it is really easy to stitch through. And silk has long been a favourite of mine. I don’t ever use fusibles on it, as that would ruin the hand of the fabric. I have lots of silk left over from having a custom sewing business for 10 years. Now, I’m glad I saved all those fabrics.

Threads & stitches

For threads, I mostly use DMC cotton along with some hand-dyed threads. I‘d like to try linen thread but haven’t yet. My favourite stitches are the running stitch, stem stitch, straight stitches, rice stitch, couching, and the versatile blanket stitch. I also like the cretan stitch a lot, because it can be used in lots of different ways.

I took Sue Stone’s Exploring Texture and Pattern course in 2018. After finishing all the exercises, my style of stitching changed from using more complex decorative stitches to using very basic stitches in different forms and combinations.

My needle has become like my pen, and my hand stitching is now another form of mark making.

April Sproule, Textile artist

A few basic tools

I enjoy using good quality tools that last a long time, so I don’t have to replace them.

Really sharp scissors are very important. I have embroidery scissors, appliqué scissors, regular scissors, paper scissors and huge shears for cutting heavy fabrics. But mostly I just need a sharp little pair of embroidery scissors for cutting threads.

Fabric markers are also important. I use Frixion markers and have never had a problem with them. I like that I get nice clean lines with them. And of course, good needles make everything so much easier. I use mostly size 10 embroidery needles with a nice sharp point.

One of the greatest things about hand embroidery is you only need a few basic tools.

I do almost all of my actual stitching at night. I use a large floor model OttLite, and I could not sew without it. I usually do hand stitching for three hours or so every night. It’s become a daily practice I really enjoy.

My iPad is my favourite design tool. I use an app called Adobe Fresco for my illustrations. I start a piece, photograph it, and then draw mock up stitches on the photo to help with design options and decisions. I can add 10 layers of stitching, eliminate what I don’t like, AirDrop the image to my phone, and use it for reference as I stitch. It’s just like magic!

I think one of the best things you can do as an artist is try things outside of your comfort zone.

April Sproule, Textile artist

Silver linings

The biggest challenges I’ve faced as a professional artist were Covid related. From 2001-20, I operated a longarm quilting business, sold my wares online and as a vendor at shows, and I taught workshops on techniques I’d developed over the years. 2019 was an especially busy year for me. Then Covid reared its ugly head, and every single upcoming event I had scheduled was cancelled.

I decided to make the most of this unexpected free time by focusing on my art and volunteering for different textile art groups who support artists and textile art instructors. That gift of time gave me a chance to re-evaluate what I was doing and make some positive changes.

I closed my longarm quilting business and decided to stop vending at shows and started applying for grants. In 2019, I received a grant from a local arts foundation, and in 2020, I received a business grant from the state. Collectively, those funds made it possible for me to gain the technical training and equipment I needed to start teaching online.

I aim to spend half my time working and the other half creating art. I’m not there yet, but I will be some day. It’s also much easier to share what I do with others and help others achieve their creative goals.

I’ve found that pushing myself helps to grow my skills and proficiency.

My biggest artistic challenge was making the portraits in Sue Stone’s Stitch Your Story online course. I knew what a fabulous teacher Sue was, and it was really hard, but I learned so much along the way. I was really inspired by the work of the others in the course.

Designing my creative space

After leasing a commercial building for five years for my business and studio, I finally had a studio built behind my house in 2006. I needed room for my 14ft longarm quilting machine, space to teach my surface design workshops and a workspace for me to create my textile art.

I had lots of experience designing textile art projects, but designing a building was an entirely different experience. Luckily, I found a great designer and very good contractors to work with me.

The 24ft x 40ft (7.3m x 21.1m) two-story structure has nice high ceilings. Downstairs is my wet studio where I do my messy stuff like dyeing and fabric painting. I included a 6ft-wide stainless steel sink from a place that carried used restaurant equipment, and it has been a useful addition. There’s also lots of storage for art supplies and other stuff.

Upstairs is one large room where I sectioned off a full bathroom and walk-in closet. The kitchen area has cabinets that hold art supplies, and it was designed to accommodate appliances, but I would rather have the space.

One of my requests was to have lots of natural light. But I also needed wall space for art display and a large design wall. The designer was able to plan accordingly, so I have windows on three sides and plenty of wall space in between.

I had a 4ft x 8ft cutting table built with storage cabinets and shelving below. I knew my needs for this space would change over the years, so one of the best things I did was to outfit all my heavy equipment, like the cutting table and longarm machine, with heavy duty casters so I can easily move things around by myself. That has been a tremendous help.

The building is quite tall due to the high ceilings on each level, so I had a manual dumb waiter added to transport heavy items, like sewing machines, up to the second floor. We’ve had lots of great workshops and retreats here, and that dumb waiter has gotten a lot of use over the years.

Every morning I wake up really early, grab a strong cup of coffee, and head over to the studio. When time permits, I sit and draw for an hour in front of my big window before I start my day. I’m grateful for every moment I spend here. My family has always been very supportive of what I do, and none of this would’ve been possible without them.

The stitched surroundings in which Sue carefully places her figures add a hint of mystery or surreal humour. And through her distinctive use of mark-making, free machine embroidery and mixed media, her characters come to life.

Sue’s career as an artist is one of discovery: learning how to harness the expressive potential of thread, experimenting with materials and gradually shaping the unique style that she’s known for. Find out how Sue’s love of textiles developed from an early age and discover her journey to becoming the renowned artist she is today.

Surreal narratives

How would you describe your work?

Sue Stone: I am best known for figurative, textural, stitched compositions which often suggest journeys through life, shaped by memory, observation and imagination. 

We all need light and shade in our lives, so my work continues to swing from the serious to a slightly surreal sense of humour whenever it needs to. 

The techniques I use during the making process are straightforward; a deliberately limited colour palette and a small vocabulary of hand embroidery stitches combined with machine stitch, appliqué and sometimes acrylic paint.

Recurring themes

Tell us about the stories behind your work…

Nearly all my work fits into one of my recurring themes. My two works created for the Broderers’ exhibition The Art of Embroidery, held at Bankside Gallery, London in 2025, hold messages around mental health, the innocent victims of turbulent times and the state of the world today.

I returned to pure hand and machine stitch for these two pieces. The only criterion for the exhibition was to use hand embroidery or machine embroidery or a combination of the two. 

A Glimpse of Calm Amidst the Chaos contrasts a 1940s family’s air of innocence with the turmoil around them. The work invites viewers to consider how much – or how little – the world has truly changed between the 1940s and the present day.

The Stuff of Nightmares evokes conflict, loss and chaos through layered textures, confronting viewers with haunting truths while revealing humanity’s fragility and resilience.

What I learned from these two works was that it’s hard not to reach for the paintbrush when you are used to the freedom of mixed media, but I really enjoyed the challenge of sticking to appliqué to add colour to the background. 

Evolving ideas

Would you share a little about your process?

Most of my work evolves during a long, slow period with major pieces taking months, or even years, to come to fruition. There’s a lot of thinking, gathering images and sometimes making drawings. As I begin to develop an artwork, it often starts life on a computer screen. The computer helps me to experiment and save time; I can reduce a composition to a simple line drawing and print it out.

Other times, I’ll develop samples during the research stages of a project and often those become part of a final composition.

Then comes the exciting part, starting the stitching. My stitched drawings are done using free machine embroidery or hand stitch. And I use hand stitching to add details, pattern and texture.

Sketchbooks & samplers

How do you plan your work?

I use a sketchbook to record thoughts, images and ideas, as well as for drawing. Drawing becomes a means of problem-solving as well as a way to express ideas on paper. A sketchbook is also useful for working out colour schemes and making notes of fabrics and suppliers. And it’s the perfect place to store small stitched samplers that can be used or referred to in the future.

I sometimes show my sketchbooks alongside my finished work. Most people are interested to see the process behind the finished piece, and I hope it encourages others not to be too precious about the contents – a sketchbook is only a means to an end.

“I enjoy exploring displacement, a sense of belonging or not belonging…”

Sue Stone, Textile artist

Search out the unexpected

What inspires your work?

I look for the out-of-place, the unexpected and the bizarre. I am an avid photographer and use my photos to create a constant visual record, both at home and on my travels.

I enjoy exploring displacement, a sense of belonging or not belonging, often by taking figures from old family photographs and juxtaposed into a modern day scene such as beside the work of street artists in London’s East End.

A life story in portraits 

Tell us about your long-running self-portrait series… 

A Life Story began in 2015 when I was invited by my former tutor and mentor, Alf Ludlam, to create an unusual self-portrait for an exhibition at Grimsby Fishing Heritage Centre. With a six-metre wall to fill, I decided to make one portrait for each year of my life – then 63 in total.

My original plan was to pare everything back to simple line drawings, but my instinct for detail soon took over. By the exhibition deadline I had completed 42 portraits, each measuring 26cm x 30cm (10″ x12″), which were shown as a work-in-progress. I finished all 63 in 2016 and exhibited them at the Knitting & Stitching Shows in London, Dublin and Harrogate, before showing them again at several other venues. 

Finding reference material for some portraits was difficult. My Dad’s photographs helped with early years, but many portraits came from memory, often sparked by clothes and hairstyles I remembered wearing. 

For me, A Life Story has become a companion as much as a body of work. It is a stitched autobiography, a record of who I have been and who I continue to become. It is flawed, imperfect, and unfinished – just like life itself. And as long as I can, I will keep stitching, adding one portrait at a time to the story of a life.

“A Life Story is a stitched autobiography, a record of who I have been and who I continue to become.”

Sue Stone, Textile artist

Art & family

Who were your early influences?

My earliest influences were my Dad who gave me my work ethic and the determination to succeed and my Mum, who was a tailoress. She taught me to use her Singer treadle sewing machine at about the age of six. From a very early age all I ever wanted to do was design and make clothes, first for my dolls and then for myself.

Mum was unfaltering in her support when I wanted to study at art school during a period when ‘grammar school girls didn’t really do that sort of thing’. My Dad was a Grimsby fish merchant during the 1950s and 1960s.

My art always has a connection to my own life or environment. This might be family and friends, time spent in London and on my travels, both at home and abroad, or something I’ve heard or experienced.

Embroidery as art

What was your route to becoming an artist?

In the 1970s, I studied fashion at St Martin’s School of Art (now UAL Central St Martins) and then textiles and embroidery at Goldsmiths College in London (now Goldsmiths, University of London), where I was taught by the pioneer textile artists Constance Howard, Christine Risley, and Eirian Short.

Constance Howard was a small charismatic person with bright green hair and the first time I met her she introduced herself as Mrs Parker. I had no idea who she was at the time, or of her importance in establishing textiles as an art form in the 20th century. She was just Mrs P, an inspiration to all her students who gave me my lifelong love of stitching.

Christine Risley was an inspirational teacher who taught machine embroidery and opened my eyes to the versatility of the sewing machine and the spontaneity you can get with free machine stitch.

Eirian Short introduced me to the 62 Group of Textile Artists in 1975, when I was first a member for a few years until other commitments got in the way of my stitching.

After art college I went into business and made a living from designing womenswear for 28 years. But I always knew I would return to stitching eventually, which I did in 2002 at the age of 50.

Telling textured stories

How has your work evolved over time? 

When I returned to stitching in 2002, my work was purely decorative and mainly abstract. I eventually came to figurative, narrative work in 2005 when I made my first self-portraits. I got there via artworks featuring historic tiles, gargoyles and landscapes. My work soon became more figurative, humorous and surreal. 

In more recent years I have experimented with scale and different ways to present my work, like wall hangings, modular work, assemblages and stretched work.

Which direction would you like to explore in the future? 

In the future, I will definitely continue telling my stories and experiment with the layering of stitch and paint, which is a constant balancing act. I’ll use these simple techniques to find even more texture and pattern. I would also like to investigate using small stitched elements on larger soft backdrops. Maybe they will be easier to ship to exhibitions!

Nothing is impossible

What advice would you give to an aspiring textile artist?

Be true to yourself and use your own voice to say what you want to say.

Always strive to make your next piece better than your last. If you falter, turn up the next day and try again!

Be determined and persistent, and always remember my Dad’s maxim:  ‘Nothing is impossible, the impossible just takes a bit longer’.

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.

Her art is a visual journal of her life, capturing moments, processing memory and embracing imperfection. 

Ailish is influenced by the philosophy behind Kintsugi – the Japanese art of mending broken pottery with gold to highlight its history. And rather than aiming for a polished final piece, Ailish explores how the act of creation can enable transformation and ‘mending’ to take place.

Her multi-disciplinary work is deeply intimate. By using personal objects and memorabilia in her work, she ensures her portraits are not simply representations. They also offer a tangible connection to the people and stories they portray.

Ailish Henderson: I make sense of the world and my own experience through a juxtaposition of the written word and visual, artistic methods. 

I am finally coming to terms with what ‘artistic practice’ means for me. It’s not always a finished painting or an embroidery – it’s the story of me. Art is my life rather than about a place or a setting.

“I need to have a story or an experience in order to create.”

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Celebrating flaws

My work is heart driven. It’s made with the Japanese art of Kintsugi in mind. Kintsugi literally means ‘golden repair’. Instead of throwing away broken pottery, a precious metal like gold or silver is used to repair and enhance the broken pieces. 

Having been exposed to a pattern of traumatic events from childhood through to adulthood, I realised I needed to find a way of making sense of big questions and issues. This led to my study of the concept of ‘repair’ and investigating how we can potentially present our emotional repair in a textile conversation.

In Kintsugi, flaws are celebrated rather than trying to make a broken thing perfect. This idea has become an inspiration to me. I’m analysing what this practice can mean within the sphere of emotional repair. 

I also find that it’s soothing to see something come into existence via my hands. It’s not a final repair or cure but a ‘mending’ which keeps me going. 

Exploring these concepts either openly or discreetly through my teaching and writing practice is now my life’s work. This way, my audience can connect with this form of ‘mending’ too. 

“I’m inspired by a memory, a life experience or even a scar.”

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Inspired by life

My art is my visual diary. I am honest in my practice – what you see is what you get.  I’ve always had a reputation for wearing my heart on my sleeve. I tell my story with all of its emotion as well as the narrative line. 

Unhappy occasions provide as much artistic fuel as happy ones. In fact, sometimes more so. I’ve also used written pieces of prose to inspire imagery. I draw from these sources, creating a simple vignette, which gradually forms a retold narrative using textiles. 

I explore how those stories can become tactile.

The self-portrait Pistachio Smiles was inspired by a lone break in Paris. It’s stitched on a base of Irish linen (from my homeland) and created with many sentimental precious materials, such as my own clothing. The marriage of its inspiration and the hand embroidered fibres make it literally part of me. 

Alternatively, I might find an old photograph that triggers ideas. It intrigues me how the viewer simply sees the image for what it is, while I hold the unique knowledge or key behind the photograph. I love using that knowledge to extend the narrative into a stitched piece.

Drawing with a needle

Once I have my inspiration, my fabric becomes my canvas. The type of work I am doing influences my process, but for my self-portraits I sketch out the basics with pencil on the fabric.

I love working in a sketchbook. I like to make my own by stringing together odd leaves of paper or other memorabilia to work as paper. Each one is unique and my sketchbook might become the artwork itself. 

I might paint certain areas of the self-portrait. I’ll use watercolour or gouache paints as well as fabric dye. I am not precious about the type of paints I use as my self-portraits are not designed to be machine washed. 

I use a lot of drawing, collage, mixed media and paint. 

I appreciate the honesty hand stitching provides. My hand work doesn’t have to be intricate, and at times, it may be primitive. Yet I’m guiding its tension and I’m in control.

Although I adore my free machine embroidery foot, hand embroidery will always be my first love and I don’t do much machine stitch.

“My needle is my pen, whether I am stitching by hand or machine.” 

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Materials that matter

If I’m making a collage piece, I gather my inspiration and the materials I want to use. I have many large, lidded clear boxes filled with personal memorabilia that I treasure. By using these boxes, it’s easy to see what is inside.  

The memorabilia is usually directly connected with the imagery. For example, it may be a scan of a letter from a loved one, or some lace that they’ve given me. I use it all, even receipts from travel experiences or the odd chocolate packet. Thankfully, I have a large studio to house all of this ‘use one day’ fuel. 

I’ve always used materials which mattered. I find it hard to function creatively with synthetic fabrics. I love quality, so I’m naturally drawn to cotton, silk and wool. This is easily done in a sustainable way. I collect vintage items that no one else wants.

All the bits I want to use are collected, chopped and stitched on the fabric to form the portrait. However, as I work in a variety of mediums, this is just one way I develop my pieces.

Inspiring Stitch Club

Although I’ve long been known for my stitched collage portraits, creating my Stitch Club workshop, about capturing the essence of a person through stitch, was the start of a shift in direction. I’ve begun to investigate my own ancestry and think about where I fit in this life. 

These are big questions when we are talking about an artistic context. I’ve started to present my own background in greater depth and explore how it could be translated to others. 

I examine two lines of thought in my Stitch Club project. 

One is about looking at a family member whom we might not know well. For example, my dad’s family died before I was born. When I look at my dad’s family photographs, although I know them and feel connected with them, it’s not an emotional connection. This sparked my interest. How can we depict someone we do not know? 

Then, I looked at my mother’s mother – I used to stick to her like glue! She died recently, aged 99, so her loss feels very direct. Although in this instance I can create with knowledge, I wanted to challenge myself to think around this. How could I create art by looking at her qualities and the things she owned rather than simply representing her image?

Of course, in the workshop Stitch Club members will dive into their own personal adaptations. Their feedback will add to my own ongoing narrative projects. 

“We all can learn and be nourished by each other.”  

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Early inspiration

I was born in Northern Ireland at the height of the Northern Ireland Conflict (the Troubles). We moved back to the UK when I was quite young, so my family could offer full-time support to my mother’s parents. I was home-schooled until I reached sixteen and my focus shifted to the arts. 

Art has always been an integral part of my being. I didn’t aspire to become an artist. I just was. There was never that moment some have experienced when they feel they have gone from being an amateur crafter to being an artist.

I was always encouraged to be creative as a child. My Scottish grandmother on my father’s side was a painter, and on my mother’s side there were clear links to dressmaking and textiles.

My mother made her own clothes with Liberty print fabric which has since become the brainchild behind my digitally printed fabric collection called You Gave Me Liberty. 

She was forever trying to get a needle in my hand but I was a determined character and avidly rebelled. In fact, I didn’t pick up a needle until I went to college to study fine art.

In my early years, I was definitely inclined toward fine art. Every trip or holiday was filled with sketching time. Over the years, I accumulated a lot of sketchbooks and paintings, which I honestly thought would simply be stored away for sentimental value.

However, I always felt there was something missing. One day a textiles tutor happened to be covering my fine art class. From that moment I was hooked.

Discovering textiles

I had always thought of textiles as a patience-driven craft. Yet my tutor Julia Triston’s subtle vision sparked something inside of me. She showed me techniques that included fabric but were less taxing on the embroidery side. She revealed what textiles could be, and her patience and insight are something for which I will be ever thankful.

When I discovered textiles in college, I suddenly looked at fine art with new eyes. How could I translate my sketchbook and painting skills into a tactile form? So my textile methods reflect that ‘from-sketch-to-stitch’ concept.

My early practice revolved around utilising techniques with as little stitch precision as possible. I worked intuitively and creatively using my fine art brain. I have to confess I even used a glue gun at times when I didn’t know how to stitch a certain way. As I became more proficient, my work naturally changed.

Developing skills

When I left college after first studying fine art and then textiles, I felt lost. I remember panicking. Where would I go from here?

I ended up doing my City & Guilds Level 3 with Julia Triston and Tracy Franklin at their Stitchbusiness classes in Durham, which was a brilliant learning curve. I learned many textile and art-related skills, some of which I now teach.

After this training, I felt stronger and more focused. I knew deep within myself that textile art was something I had to pursue. I just had to make it work.

I began getting myself involved in teaching and lecturing to groups, such as branches of The Embroiderers’ Guild. The Knit and Stitch Show also took me on to provide classes, which opened up my work vision further.

I decided I wanted to continue learning and feeding myself with current and contemporary practices to open up my own practice, so I began studying for a BA in Textiles. 

Although I entered university level education later than most, my reputation earned through my own practice and teaching worked in tandem with my course. Teaching and other ways of working can potentially contribute to your creative vision.

“If you are an aspiring textile artist, I’d encourage you to think outside of the normal ‘job’ options.” 

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Follow your heart

During my degree studies, I was pushed to take more risks in my artistic practice. However, by the time I began my degree, I already knew who I was as an artist – so I found this mentally taxing. 

The work I loved most from my time studying is my stitched collage portrait narrative work. This work got the fewest marks, yet funnily enough it has been my most successful work outside of my degree.

“Be open to change and renewal, but always enjoy what you do – creating should never be a trial.”  

Ailish Henderson, Art textiles practitioner

Pass it on

I’d encourage you to always make with your heart. Art without heart lacks magic. Let the inspiration and the creation light you up. If it doesn’t, leave it.

Use materials you have a connection with. For example, memorabilia, letters, photos and passed down textile materials such as lace, old tablecloths or suchlike.

Don’t be afraid to use what’s precious. These treasured things will only die with you, so use it now and give it a new life. You never know, that cherished napkin you kept so carefully in a drawer may end up on a gallery wall someday.  

Coming home to myself

For many years, there was a period when I was teaching, writing and, I have to admit it, working off the back of my previous artworks, without feeling any need to make more. I hated this time and I felt as if I’d lost my way. 

I came to realise that my art is more than another stitched collage portrait, it is in everything I do. 

I am never without a pen or pencil in my hand. I write poems or I sketch odd little things just to make me happy. I write articles about art and I review other people’s art. In other words, I began to realise that I am an artist, I had just missed the point of what the term could be.

The last few years have been filled with exhibitions, losing my cherished grandmother, and all the noise that comes from writing and publishing a book. Currently I am working on some new teaching projects, as well as developing ideas for a second book. 

Importantly, I am taking time to contemplate on what my narrative future might be.

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.

Dutch artist Mirjam had been put off textiles at school by critical teachers who insisted on following ‘the rules’. Even her own family taught her that there was a right and a wrong way to do embroidery. Instead, she became a children’s author. But, she was still intrigued with embroidery, and so her evenings were turned to experimenting with stitch, texture and pattern. 

Today, her nature-inspired crochet, felt works and embroideries – many worked on her own eco dyed and printed cloth – have led to large followings on Instagram, Etsy and Patreon, where she shares her knowledge via e-books and tutorials. 

Mirjam told us how the seasons are her inspiration, and that seeing Sue Stone tie a knot in her thread was the epiphany that freed her from decades of embroidery restrictions.

Creating with joy

Mirjam Gielen: It hasn’t been that long since I felt confident enough to call myself a textile artist. I learned many techniques in my youth, but I don’t have any formal training in the arts.

I love to combine my embroidery with eco printing and dyeing, crochet, felting and any other technique that helps to achieve the effect that I’m looking for.

Dyeing and printing with plants provides me with a stash of fabrics and threads. This makes me feel like a child in a room full of wonderful toys with endless possibilities!

I enjoy experimentation and that often leads to new discoveries of how to use a certain material or technique.

I create my art at home: our living room doubles as my workspace while our kitchen is frequently turned into a dye studio.

I try to limit dyeing to moments when my family members are out, or I’ll dye in the garden when the weather allows – the smells from the dye pot aren’t always appreciated. Otherwise, my family is very supportive: they help me by editing my tutorials or providing inspiration with photographs and research. In that way my work is very much embedded in family life.

My main platform is social media, especially Instagram, and I like to connect and share with people around the world. I’ve participated in a few exhibitions, but felt very much on display rather than connected to the visitors.

How did you become a textile artist?

My mother, grandmother and aunts always had some textile activity on the go. It could be knitting, embroidery, crochet or sewing, but also tatting or macramé. They invariably made things that were useful, like clothing, tablecloths or lampshades. They wanted to make them as beautiful as possible and were always on the lookout for a new pattern or pretty yarn.

They showed me the joy of needlework but were also quite obedient to what they called ‘the rules’.

At school I was often criticised for not working neatly enough. That might have been to do with the fact that I am left-handed, but was forced to do all the crafts right-handed. I was constantly chided and forced to undo my work. It left me with the idea that textile work could be great, but I just wasn’t good enough.

I kept creating on a modest scale, because the fun and satisfaction of making things with my own hands kept its appeal. The birth of my children stimulated that and I loved to craft for and with them.

I was an author of children’s books when my children were young and I started the habit of doing some stitching or crochet after a day spent juggling with words. I just played with colours and stitches as a relaxing downtime, without much thought about results. That was when the joy came back and I was able to create more freely. Slowly it grew into something more.

Did you have a particular turning point that influenced your art?

I had done some botanical dyeing with my mother, but that had been forgotten over the years. When I saw eco printed fabrics online and read a book by India Flint on the subject, something clicked and I started eco dyeing and printing myself. The fabrics I produced turned out to be the ideal basis for my stitches. 

Another pivotal moment came during a TextileArtist online course by Sue Stone. It was something really simple: she tied a knot in her thread before starting. I was aghast because I’d been taught that tying knots was more or less a deadly sin! My grandmother used to say that the back of the work should be as neat as the front – knots had no place there. 

Seeing a renowned textile artist like Sue Stone actually tying a knot was very freeing. It made me realise that I still had lots of rules in my head that were hampering my artistic freedom. 

Sue’s style is very different from mine, but she still is a role model for me in her approach to textile art. It encouraged me to get rid of the last remnants of my harsh inner critic and enjoy the creative force of exploration and experimentation.

“Eco prints feel like a magical world I can explore with my needle.”

Mirjam Gielen, Textile artist

Patterns, lines & structures

What is the ethos behind your work of creating organic embroidery on eco printed fabric?

Nature is important to me and provides a constant source of inspiration. Outdoors, I feel nourished and relaxed.

I feel that textile work has a lot in common with organic processes. I can make my stitches small or big, dense or wide apart. They can be grouped together like a herd or wander around. They colonise the fabric in an organic way, growing slowly, stitch by stitch.

Stitches have their own characteristics that are a bit like the DNA that provide code for the stitch process. A french knot looks distinctive and not like a seed stitch, just like a rose looks like a rose and not like a tulip. Then there are the influences that can steer the process in a multitude of directions, similar to the influences of soil, sun or rain in nature.

“There are so many fascinating and beautiful structures and phenomena in nature that provide inspiration.”

Mirjam Gielen, Textile artist

Eco printing helps to get rid of the ‘blank page’ problem. It immediately provides an environment that can be explored with stitches. It invites intuitive stitching and a dialogue with the fabric.

Embroidery gives me direct contact with the fabric and I think that is why it is my preferred technique. But I don’t like to limit myself: crochet, for instance, can provide interesting and organic looking structures too. Felting has also found a place in my practice, not only because it is such a delight to stitch on, but also because it can be three-dimensional.

How do you develop ideas for your work?

For inspiration, I use images that I take with my camera or that I find on the internet. I collect them on boards on Pinterest. My next step is often to draw in a sketchbook, not with the aim of designing my work in detail, but to get a hands-on feel for patterns, lines and structures. I also often make stitch samples before starting on an art work. 

These stitch explorations have led to several ‘sketchcloths’, as I like to call them; eco printed fabrics that get filled over time with all sorts of experiments. The free stitch play on those fabrics is appealing enough to blur the line between ‘sample’ and ‘art’. 

My focus is increasingly on the process rather than on the result. I can start out with a mix of inspiring images as a basis, but once I get stitching, I let my intuition lead me. I might end up with something different from what I envisioned beforehand. And, when that leads to a ‘blah’ result, I don’t see that as a failure, but as a valuable lesson and a stage in my process.

Botanical dyes, reclaimed materials

What materials do you especially like to use in your work?

I want to have a practice that doesn’t contribute to the environmental issues that we face. Industrial dyeing of fabrics is one of the most polluting industries, and I don’t want to add to that if I can help it.

Botanical dyeing is one of the solutions, but I also use reclaimed materials. I do sometimes buy new materials like goldwork threads though – I’m not looking to create a new inner critic that chides me for not being strict enough regarding my efforts to be sustainable.

There’s a lot that can be found online, from shops that sell botanical dyestuffs or organic linen, to online market places where people ask a small price for their grandmother’s leftover stash.

I once bought a large box of threads from a widower who proudly showed me all of his wife’s work. He was selling her stash to raise enough money to buy a piece of ceramic art for her grave. Every time I use her threads I remember how lovingly he talked about her. That’s the kind of added bonus that you don’t get with store bought items.

What’s been your biggest challenge in creating your art, and how did you overcome that challenge?

I think the biggest challenge was to overcome self-doubt and self-critique. I was held back by old beliefs and musty rules. My harsh inner critic was frantically trying to keep me safe, safe from disappointment, ridicule or failure – be perfect, it would say, or better still, don’t even try. It’s like an overprotective friend that hates to see you get hurt but also has a totally unrealistic estimate of the dangers. 

I have found that many of the things that I feared are in fact non-existent.

If a composition doesn’t work, I can undo things, add stitches, add an appliqué or simply try again. If I run out of steam, it’s okay to rest for a bit – my mojo won’t get lost. I can’t lose what truly belongs to me and if it doesn’t truly belong to me, it’s okay to lose it. I have started to trust in that, and it’s brought me lots of joy, through the work itself and in sharing it with others.

Time & teaching

How do you organise your working week?

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there were more than 24 hours in a day? But then I’d probably still discover that I didn’t have a drop to drink all morning or that it’s way past lunchtime! I can get completely engrossed in my work.

On the other hand, working from home can lead to people thinking that you are always available. I’ve had to learn to let the phone ring and say no to invitations to go for a coffee when I’m working.

Creating classes and tutorials takes up a big part of my time. I love to teach, but I need to protect the amount of time spent on it.

Social media can be another distraction. I try to take regular pauses while stitching, so as not to overtax my body by sitting in one position for too long. But I tend to fill that time by scrolling on my phone and, before I know it, I’m answering a question on Instagram, clicking on interesting links and reading messages from friends.

Being self-employed means having a lot of freedom – I can take a walk whenever I feel like it – but it also requires quite a bit of self-management.

I have a lot of followers on Instagram and a growing number of patrons on Patreon – that can lead to a feeling that I have to create interesting content all the time for all those lovely people.

Textile work is often labour-intensive and progress can be slow, so I don’t always have something new to show. When I feel that pressure I take a deep breath and realise that those demands are just in my head. Nobody actually gets angry or hurt when I don’t produce constantly.

Taking time off to stare out of the window, go on a walk or do a simple chore is time well spent as it creates space for my brain to process inspiration and come up with new ideas.

This is also similar to natural processes: seeds need time to germinate and winter days are just as important as the abundance of summer.

How is your work evolving?

I find that I’m drawn more and more to working three-dimensionally. It poses challenges that I avoided for a long time. I started with stitching on felt balls, but there are so many more possibilities – I’m excited to see where it leads me.

Do you have one or two tips for makers?

My best tip would be to focus on the process. To enjoy the journey wherever it leads.

If you see all your works as steps in an ongoing process, you become less afraid of failing. Failure doesn’t even exist. If you discover, for instance, that appliqué is not your thing or that you really shouldn’t have combined those two fabrics, that’s a lesson that will fuel your creative development just as much as any ‘successes’ will.

Another tip is to feel free to learn from others. Being inspired to try something you see someone else doing is not stealing ideas but a way of finding your own voice.

In textiles, we’re interconnected by a long tradition that spans many ages and cultures, and that always was and is the property of everyone. That said, it’s only fair to honour your sources of inspiration and give credit where it’s due.

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.

Anne’s favourite themes are folk art, the natural world, memories and travel. And all of her works feature magical mash-ups of unique and colourful ephemera locked together with stitch. 

‘Inspiration boards’ play a key role in Anne’s creative process, and she’s generously sharing a look into that process. She’s also giving us a peek into her signature overstitching technique using her trusty old Bernina sewing machine.

Mixed media is very exciting in Anne Kelly’s hands. Be sure to zoom in to see all her hidden gems.

Fine art background

Anne Kelly: I’ve always been a maker, even from an early age, when I was influenced by my Canadian grandmother who was a wonderful needleworker.  

I trained as a fine artist in Canada, but it was visiting my British grandmother in London that first drew me to the UK. I moved here in the early 80s to continue my training at Goldsmiths in London and to start a career in teaching that would work around family life. 

Mixed media work was part of my training, and I became interested in finding ways to combine stitch with photographic and printmaking processes. I turned to my garden for inspiration, and this is when the symbiotic relationship between image and stitch first began. 

Everyday ephemera

I’m interested in everyday things. We all have so much fabric and paper ephemera surrounding us. I also take lots of photographs and collect things like tickets and leaflets when I travel. It can be a lot to sort through when I’m looking for items to use in my collages, and I like to choose carefully. 

Some ephemera can be quite valuable and fragile, especially old photos. So, instead of directly stitching on these cherished items, I’ll make a fabric pocket from white or cream organza. I stitch the pocket to the background layer and slip the item inside the pocket. 

Other times, I’ll transfer the images of delicate ephemera onto T-shirt transfer paper or pretreated fabric that can go through a photocopier or printer. 

I use a very wide variety of ephemera, and I enjoy the challenge of figuring out how to put them all together. For example, I made a series of Park Walk books for a solo exhibition at the Ruthin Crafts Centre. I used old maps, legal documents and the type of scrim used in hat making. 

“I am a great believer in using everyday materials and techniques.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist 

Loving print

There’s always an element of printmaking in my work. I just love the way that print works on fabric. It’s very different from printing on paper, but the ink or paint takes so well on fabric. Sometimes my printing is quite subtle, but I think it really enhances my textile art. 

I use quite a few printing methods, including screen printing, block printing, transfer printing and digital printing. It just depends on what I’m doing.

The secret is to keep everything as open-ended as possible and I always work on more than one piece at a time. Using a baking analogy, if you’ve got all the ingredients out, you may as well make more than one cake. I think if you’re working on more than one creation at a time, you’re more likely to be happy and enjoy it when something comes through. 

“Working on several collages at a time frees me up, as I’m not investing everything into trying to create the one perfect piece.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist

Inspiration boards

I’ll use sketchbooks and photography to research my themes. Drawing and keeping sketchbooks is an important part of my practice, and I refer to them frequently when working on a new project. 

I always tell my students to have a sketchbook to hand, but they shouldn’t have to feel they have to use it in any particular way. I use mine as scrapbooks and pinboards. But they should use them as they see fit.

I also use inspiration boards, similar to the mood boards used in interior design. Seemingly disparate elements are combined, going on to inspire a new series of work.

Inspiration boards are an invaluable resource. I have been using them for many years to reference themes when creating new work. Depending on the project, I’ll use pinboards, cards or sketchbook pages for my inspiration boards. The main thing is they must be accessible in my workspace. 

I often start with my photograph collection, adding motifs, found paper materials and drawings inspired by vintage natural history books. I bring them together using stitch and embellishment. 

“My inspiration boards influence the direction of my work – but I’m not wedded to them, as the work may change as it evolves and progresses.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist

Isle of Skye reflections 

I remember creating an inspiration board after a teaching and travelling visit to the Isle of Skye in Scotland. It allowed me to spend time reflecting on my travels, and I was able to combine collected papers and ephemera together in one place. 

I had everything from maps to Tunnock’s chocolate bar wrappers. I also looked through my collections of paper and textile scraps for colours and fragments that would work well with the project. 

“Starting with the idea of landscape, I used the board to connect disparate elements and combine them, in order to make new work.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist 

I selected a variety of weights, textures and thicknesses of paper and textiles, from tissue paper and organza, to handmade paper and wool. 

That inspiration board led to a wide range of works, and it will continue to inspire further explorations referencing this theme. 

Layers of detail

When creating my textile collages, I like to start with a strong background fabric such as calico or canvas. I layer this panel with fabrics that match the subject matter. The panels vary according to the size and shape of the artwork I’m creating. 

I consider the elements that will make up the surface, using sketchbooks, drawings, templates and photographs to determine the final look of the artwork. 

I join everything together using a variety of stitches and appliquéd fabric. Generally, I finish with free motion embroidery and some hand stitching. I back my work using vintage fabric if it’s being hung without a frame. 

I have an outdoor garden shed that I renovated for my studio. It’s not very big, so I always say to people it’s not the size of your space that counts, it’s what you do. I love being able to go there to work and then just shut the door and leave my mess until next time.

Drawing with stitch

For me, stitching is a form of drawing. I use hand and machine stitching, collage and simple printmaking techniques to merge my selected materials. The stitching acts as a web to bind the components together.

I use a variety of stitch techniques, both hand and machine. I’m known for using a repetitive edging stitch on an old Bernina to join layers of fabric together and create a netting effect over the surface.

“I entrap elements of the world in my textiles, then draw over them, making a new piece of tapestry-like fabric.”

Anne Kelly, Textile artist

I also use free-motion embroidery, particularly in my recent portrait series. For the hand embroidery, I favour simple stitches like running stitch, back stitch, blanket stitch and french knots.

The work I make fits into both the traditional and contemporary genres. While appearing traditional, I use a variety of techniques in a contemporary way. The naïve references and influence of the natural world make it relevant and topical.

Telling stories 

There’s always a story to be found in my work. For example, my series Friends and Family series looks at family and friends’ environments and passions.

Paul in the Garden showcases how my husband likes to read in the garden. It was inspired by a photo of him surrounded by plants. I used vintage materials, machine embroidery and hand stitch. The work is backed with a piece of linen and mounted on canvas for display.

I’ll also stitch stories from my own life. Resting and Jenny’s Owl came to life after I had a bout of flu. I wanted to recreate the view from my bed. My friend, Jenny, made the owl as a present and it is displayed as a focal point on my shelves. The artwork also features vintage materials, machine embroidery and hand stitch.

A seaside Stitch Club workshop

The artwork Small World was inspired by my larger work called Undersea. I wanted to take a closer look at the details of the sea, creating a jewel-like focus. 

I used machine embroidery, hand stitch, and textile collage including buttons and metal charms. I then mounted the work onto a hoop and sewed it into the frame.

I pursue a similar creative project in my Stitch Club workshop where members create sea-inspired textile collages using existing materials found in their stash. I think it’s an enduring and accessible theme for many, and I’m excited to show members new ways to combine materials.  

Despite having no formal training, Emily found that hand stitching gave her the control she craved. Not knowing the ‘rules’ liberated her to do whatever worked – and this unlocked endless creative possibilities.

Emily’s artwork often features recycled materials like paper and plastic, emphasising the vulnerable side of life. She is inspired by people and places close to her heart, whether that’s a friend, a family member or wildlife encountered on daily walks. 

While Emily describes her creations as scruffy and unfinished, the dynamic energy of her stitches captures a fleeting moment, inviting you to imagine what happens next.

Emily Tull: I am a thread painter and I stitch wildlife and portraits. My work is inspired by fragmented, broken and ripped things. This gives a sense of fragility to my art. 

I view my artworks as paintings or drawings. They are called thread paintings because it’s the thread and stitching that I’m interested in. I stitch into wallpaper and plastic as well as fabric.

I focus on portraits, predominantly of family and friends. Since 2020, there has been a shift; nowadays there tends to be more connection to the sitters within my artworks. This could be through the use of particular fabrics or a title that hints at events in their lives.

I’m also interested in wildlife, mainly British species and especially ones that are endangered. I am particularly inspired by the wildlife I come across on walks at my local beach and nature reserve. 

For example, fish are stunning creatures and they can be overlooked. This is why I loved highlighting their beauty in my Stitch Club workshop. It was fun creating an exercise using shiny fabrics, which I don’t often use. 

Recently I have been working on a series of birds showing the love and hate sides to their lives. I love recreating those brief moments that we might glimpse, but not necessarily pay attention to.

“I consider my artwork as part of a story for someone else to complete.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Sparking inspiration

Inspiration comes from many sources including artists such as Frank Auerbach, Lucien Freud and Francis Bacon, the natural world, curiosity cabinets and Egyptian tomb paintings. I might be inspired by a piece of fabric, lyrics from a song, or a line of poetry. 

With portraits, I usually start with a title. This often gives me an idea of who the sitter should be and suggests what materials I might use.

Depending on the subject I’ll occasionally work from life, but generally, I work from a reference image. I use my sketchbook to plan out the pose and which fabrics I’ll use. I think about what events in the subject’s life I want to reference and how to do that. 

I might do a little drawing to decide on the shapes to cut the material. If it’s a more complex design, I might lay out all the components and write an inspirational story around it.

I start the making process with a rough sketch. I typically attach the background fabric first, unless it’s being used as an outline and then it will go on last. I use muslin gauze as the basis for the skin, pinning it on as a large piece before cutting away pieces.

After I’ve layered any fabric, I begin drawing – nothing too detailed – and then hand stitching. I always begin with the eye and work outwards from there, in no particular order. I work in quite an organic way. 

Creating wildlife isn’t very different. It all depends on what fabrics I am using. Sometimes I do the drawing on a thin cotton fabric which I then cut out and pin onto the base fabric. Again, I stitch the eyes in first and then continue out until the whole image is complete.

Mining your stash

I’m very aware of what fabrics and materials I use, particularly as so much of my artwork is about nature and its plight. 

I try to source most of my threads, fabrics and wallpaper from charity shops, or I use recycled materials. I often cut up old clothing for my artworks, but occasionally I have to buy new.

I’m a hoarder and I’ll save scraps left over from past artworks. These are invaluable especially if I’m layering up fabrics for a background.

“Go through your fabric stash every time you start something new and try to use at least one item from it.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Stitching paper

My interest in wallpaper is partly inspired by sustainability and also because I’ve always enjoyed looking at layers of peeling or ripped paper. I love the sense of history and personality it gives a building. 

I first introduced wallpaper in my fabric-based work, using floral materials against contrasting patterns and colours. Now I use actual paper to stitch on. 

I prefer to use vintage wallpaper as it is sturdier and has less of a slippery surface for the needle. Sometimes I only stitch the eyes, giving only a hint of the person with a silhouette cut out of a contrasting paper to the background.

“Paper is challenging to stitch, but that’s what I like most – pushing the boundaries of what I can stitch.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Freedom in simplicity

Hand stitching is my only technique. I use a basic stitch which I vary in size and layer. If the thread knots, I leave it and stitch it in. This adds texture, especially in wildlife pieces.

Often the stitching tension is manipulated when I work on a sculptural piece. Pulling in the material tight helps create the three-dimensional effect – as seen in my mermaid purses artwork, Tangled. 

“My lack of training has given me the freedom to manipulate hand stitching without being restricted by the ‘right way’ to do it.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Inspiration from frustration

I originally trained as a painter. I’ve always experimented with different techniques but I reached a point where I’d become frustrated. I realised that the kind of finish I wanted to create was never going to be achieved with my style of painting. 

One day, while stitching hessian onto a willow frame, I had a light-bulb moment and decided to stitch a face onto the fabric. I drew my eye on a scrap of muslin and then pinned it onto the hessian. 

I cobbled together a few threads and hand-stitched a basic eye over my drawing. I remember thinking the result was awful but I’d enjoyed the process. 

Drawing – whether it’s a quick sketch or very detailed – is my favourite technique. Drawing with threads reminded me of using coloured pencils. I bought some more thread colours and went on to make three male portraits. 

Paint versus stitch

When I first dabbled with hand embroidery, it was the control that I had in mark making that made me think this could be the medium for me. My background was oil painting with a palette knife, which although quick does give a very different effect. 

Even after 16 years I still struggle with how long stitching can take. However, the fine detail I can achieve, along with its painterly feel, outweighs my impatience. 

Because of the way I can use this painterly style of stitching, my subject matter has expanded compared to my painting days. Other benefits include being able to remove stitching easily and – apart from occasionally stabbing my finger – stitching is therapeutic.

I also find I’m not as precious with my artworks (unless I’m using expensive fabric) as I was with my paint. I have become looser and freer. I use sandpaper to rough up the surface and fray edges, and I rip up materials. 

My working week

As a freelance artist, no week is ever the same, as I work on projects in other mediums alongside my stitch art. 

If I’m working from home, the first hour is dedicated to emails and scheduling social media posts. If I am working on artworks, I aim to start work on them as early as possible in the day, especially as I only stitch during natural daylight hours. 

My evenings are often dedicated to admin, or planning and prepping. I often research multiple ideas at a time and can start the process many months before I have the opportunity to stitch them.

Research is one of my favourite parts of the process. I love learning about my subject matter in detail. Although sometimes it can take time to find what I’m looking for, I love the challenge of searching. 

“I tend to do a rough drawing with notes initially because I prefer to put the energy into the actual artwork.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Taking time out

I really enjoy working in different mediums and at very different scales. I work on community projects, including carnival builds and lantern parades, alongside my stitched artwork. 

Although it means I have periods away from stitching, I like to have a break from making my personal art. 

Social media definitely puts pressure on creatives to feel like they have to be producing work all the time and, unless you are feeling inspired, that is unhealthy. We are not machines and taking time out is refreshing. 

I like to spend time on the beach or a nature reserve where I feel relaxed and centred. I also like to go to places that inspire my art so it feels productive without pressure.

“It’s healthy for my soul to have time away and look at ideas with fresh eyes.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Look & look again

When I’m working on a new artwork and have decided on my reference image(s), I spend a few days carefully looking at the photograph, before I start making. 

Spending time observing helps your eyes hone in on the finer details. You’ll be surprised at the subtleties in colour that will appear. This will help inform your choice of fabric and threads.

“If you are using a reference image, my biggest tip is to keep looking at it.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Cultivate self-belief

I have always followed what interests me. I work in my own style of stitching, which comes naturally to me. Over time you’ll create your own shorthand of making. This is how you remain authentic to yourself.

Don’t be distracted by what other people are making or compare yourself to them. That can undermine your confidence and it’s easy to get caught up with a fashionable style.

“Believe in yourself – don’t try to be anyone else.”

Emily Tull, Thread painter

Constantly evolving

Over time, my work has developed from tomb paintings to ripped wallpaper and I’ve changed the materials that I’m stitching into. 

There’s now a blurring of the lines between portrait and wildlife. I’m creating portraits that include wildlife. This introduces another dimension to people’s personalities and it’s also an observation of mankind’s relationship with nature. 

It’s been good to bring together themes that started separately and it’s something I want to continue exploring. 

I also want to carry on experimenting with the surfaces that I can stitch into, both two-dimensionally, and three-dimensionally and also for installation displays.

Recently, I’ve been looking back, to move forward. I’ve been focusing on my oil paintings and craving the lumps of colours that would appear in my work. 

After all this time, I feel that I understand my process and I’ve got it to a level I’m happy with. Now I feel it’s time to see if I can create those lovely painterly lumps in stitch. How I do that we’ll have to see but I am looking forward to experimenting.