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.

But Wendy Dolan pushes graphic dimension even further by adding print, paint and three-dimensional mediums to her layered fabrics. Stucco walls, mossy trees and crushed stones stand proud in fascinating fashion. Heavy stitching by hand and machine add further depth and movement. 

Wendy is offering a look into her techniques and favourite materials, including heat-activated ‘puffing’ media. You’ll also learn how tissue paper and packaging materials can create incredible textures.

Enjoy exploring Wendy’s world where surface treatment is literally taken to new heights.

A map of London

My earliest memories of creating with fabrics was making clothes for my dolls when I was eight or nine years old. My mother always knitted and made clothes for the family, so I started to also make garments for myself. 

I created my first embroidered work when I was 11. There was a small wool and haberdashery shop in the village that sold iron-on transfers. We purchased a design depicting a map of London and various UK emblems. That project started my lifetime love of stitch and textiles, and I still have the finished piece. A family friend noticed my interest in stitching and taught me many traditional hand embroidery techniques. 

Discovering textile techniques

While studying at school for my A level, the new art teacher encouraged me to take embroidery for one of the papers. She was so supportive, taking me to London to see embroidery exhibitions while helping me develop my design work in school. I shall always be grateful for her help and encouragement.

Having decided to pursue a career in teaching, I chose a BEd course which offered Art and Textiles as a core subject. That opened a whole new world of textile techniques, including freehand machine embroidery, fabric painting, printing, machine knitting and weaving. 

I soon realised I could achieve exciting textures and effects by combining a wide range of approaches, and I haven’t looked back since!

Places, maps & journeys

My inspiration comes from a variety of sources, including architecture, the landscape, still life, and maps and journeys.

I use my camera to capture images, and I record my ideas in a sketchbook. I combine pen and ink, watercolour and torn paper collage to develop my ideas and designs. I also create a torn paper collage for my colour scheme that I can use as a reference for printing and painting.

I begin a piece by exploring the design element, then experimenting with different materials. 

When I’ve finalised the proportions, I select and layer my fabrics to build up the design. I choose fabrics with contrasting textures and tones and tear them to add interest to the surface. If my design is architectural, I first transfer the image onto tracing paper, so I can see where I’m placing the fabrics.

I machine stitch the layers down using cotton thread, and then I add hand stitching and three-dimensional media if it’s appropriate. 

Once my surface design is prepared, I apply colour by painting and printing. Hand and machine stitch allow me to work further into the piece, making marks and textures with coloured thread. Sometimes I work intuitively and use the texture of a particular fabric to develop an idea. 

“Very often, the unexpected happens, producing more pleasing results.”

Wendy Dolan, Textile artist

Inked textures

The pigments I use are screen printing inks. I prefer the brand Sericol and have been using it for more than 45 years. I was introduced to Sericol pigments during my degree course, and I find them extremely versatile. They have a thick consistency that can be used for block printing, stenciling, mono printing, screen printing and applying with a palette knife.

The thickness of the inks gives me greater control when I apply them to my built-up designs. But because they are water-based, they can also be diluted with water and applied with a brush to create water colour effects. 

When working with the inks, I usually plan the process and have a good idea of the outcome. But I always keep an open mind and I’m happy to redirect my thoughts as I progress. It’s an exciting way to work, as very often, the unexpected happens, producing more pleasing results. 

Tools of the trade

I use a ceramic tile and a palette knife to mix my inks. For printing and mark making on fabric, I use a variety of wooden printing blocks, handmade printing blocks, sponges and stencils. I’ll also sometimes use household items such as packaging, bubble wrap and corrugated card. 

I apply colour using a sponge and lightly dab the block’s surface. Then I place the fabric on top of a padded surface to produce clear results when printing. A piece of thin foam or some newspaper is sufficient.

I make sure my fabrics are pre-washed to remove any dressing before creating any design. Some fabrics may soak up more colour than others, so I also always experiment with colour application before constructing a piece.

When I apply colour with a brush, I find it is easier to spray the surface lightly with water first. Printing is added after I’m done painting.

Adding dimension

I enjoy working with Xpandaprint (also sold as Expandit) to create texture and dimension. It’s a thick non-toxic medium that can be applied with a brush, roller or sponge. It expands when heated and then can be painted. I often use it to represent textured surfaces, such as crumbly walls, moss and lichen. 

Occasionally, I use modelling paste. I apply it thinly with a sponge or through a stencil. It creates interesting resist effects when painted. 

Incorporating tissue paper can also create interesting surface textures. I scrunch the paper in my hands and then tear it into small pieces. Then, I fuse the crumpled paper to fabric using Bondaweb or similar iron-on fusible. Finally, I paint the surface for further effect. 

I used this technique to create a crumbling wall texture in Kilpeck Church, adding cotton scrim for additional texture.

A variety of foam and Tyvek packaging can be useful; I distort them with heat to create exciting effects. For this, I always wear a mask and work outside or in a well-ventilated space, as some of those materials may give off fumes.

Fabric choices

I prefer using natural fabrics in my art. Calico is my preferred base fabric, and then I’ll select a wide variety of cottons, silks, linens, muslins, scrims, lace and trimmings. 

I source most of my fabrics from Whaleys Bradford Ltd., but I also try to use vintage and recycled fabrics whenever I can. Searching charity shops and markets often yields some interesting finds. 

I always use freehand machine stitching to attach my initial layers of fabric. I prefer to use a short stitch length which looks more like a sketchy line. When building up the design, I use my machine like a pencil to create line, form and areas of stitched texture. Madeira 40 rayon thread is my favourite. 

Mark making threads

Even though I print and paint on my fabrics, they remain surprisingly soft once I set the inks with an iron. Stitching is rarely a problem, but I’m always aware of how many layers of fabric will move freely beneath the darning foot. 

I use hand stitching to produce isolated marks. I like to use a variety of thread weights depending on the effect I want to create. I have a wide selection from which to choose, including cotton perlé, fine wools, stranded cotton and silk yarns. 

For hand stitching I prefer simple stitches, such as seeding, random cross stitch, running and couching. But I mostly stitch for the best effect rather than concentrating on specific stitches. 

London on the map

My series called A Sense of Place is inspired by places and my journeys. London on the Map incorporates iconic buildings and structures in London. The fabric map depicts central London with the River Thames running through. 

Working with my inkjet printer, I first treated the fabric with a BubbleJet 2000 solution. Once dry, I ironed it onto freezer paper and then passed it through the printer. 

I used a smooth cotton fabric and placed masking tape over the top edge of the fabric to help it feed smoothly. Keeping the fabrics neutral allowed the colour to come from the map and the applied stitching. The images are stitched with freehand machine embroidery. 

Across the Downs

Living in Sussex close to the South Downs, I find the rolling hills an ideal source of inspiration. Field poppies are often in abundance on the chalk downlands where they create stunning natural displays. I find the contrasting colours within the landscapes very alluring.

In Across the Downs, I layered and stitched natural fabrics before painting them with water-based inks. Normally, when I use my sketchbook to experiment with different colour combinations, the design can become quite abstract. But for this design, I chose to use a more representational colour palette.

The clouds were created by fusing pieces of horticultural fleece onto my white background. That created a resist effect when I painted on top. I sponged colour across the skyline to add a soft, atmospheric backdrop. Then I stitched into the piece to create the trees and introduce texture and depth. 

Royal Pavilion

Architecture has always interested me, and I’m constantly taking photos of doors, windows, carvings and crumbly textured surfaces. 

The Royal Pavilion in Brighton is especially fascinating because of its eclectic style. The juxtaposition of domes, scalloped arches and intricate stucco work makes it a wonderful resource for exploring patterns and form. 

In Royal Pavilion Brighton, I pieced, layered and stitched down calico, cotton silk noil and linen fabrics to create a balance of shapes, texture and tone. Additional surface texture was added using Xpandaprint. 

I applied paint and then stitched the outline of the pavilion with dark blue thread. For architectural designs, I tend to trace the image onto Stitch ‘n Tear stabiliser and then stitch from the reverse side with dark thread. 

Stitch club workshop

My Stitch Club workshop connects with my love of architecture. Members create a doorway scene that starts with layers of fabric. A paper collage is used to formulate the colour scheme, before they paint the background and stitch the design. Because they’ll be working with a variety of fabrics, interesting effects can be created.

They will also learn a unique reverse stitch transfer method that avoids the use of fabric markers. 

I’m eager for members to have fun, learn some new skills, and experiment with layering, painting and stitching techniques. I’m especially hopeful they’ll find the techniques useful in developing their own creative journeys. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist

Being inspired

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

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

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

Creating my materials

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

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

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

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

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

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

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

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Call & response

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

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

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

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

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Finding meaning

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

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

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

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

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

Teaching intuitively

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

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

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

Cultivating curiosity

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist 

Nurturing creativity

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

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

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

Learning to see

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

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

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

Supporting textiles

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cheryl Rezendes, Artist

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

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

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

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

Industrial inspiration

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

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

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

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

Science foundations

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

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

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

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

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

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

Important mentors

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

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

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

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

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

Colours & marks

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

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

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

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

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

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

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

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

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

Breakdown printing

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

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

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

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

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

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

Poplin love

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

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

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

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

The mighty Bernina

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

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

Must-have tools

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

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

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

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

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

Textile art bias

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

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

The joy of writing

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

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

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

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

Leah Higgins, Textile artist

A big move

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Art quilt collage

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quilt out loud

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

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

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

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

Stitching stolen lives

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

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

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

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

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

Create landscape quilts

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

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

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

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

Creating art quilts with panels

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

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

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

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

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

Capture your own life with collage quilting

It’s time to get personal.

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

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

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

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

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

At play in the garden of stitch

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

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

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

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

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

And finally…

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

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

Featured picks

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

If you buy books linked to our site, we may earn a commission from Bookshop.org, whose fees support independent bookshops.

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

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

Living in an isolated part of Australia while raising her young family, Dijanne had little access to materials and tuition. Undeterred, she taught herself to dye, print and stitch her own fabrics.

She learnt to use natural vegetation from the Australian bush for her experiments on fabric and paper. Making sustainability and environmental concerns a priority, she developed skills that she could teach to others.

Dijanne has travelled, taught and exhibited in Europe, Australia and Asia, often working with small indigenous communities to upskill women.

She loves to tell stories about her travels and her interests in history, art, nature and the environment. Let’s take a look at how her richly textured cloth does that in the most tactile and visually pleasing way.

Dye, print & ink

How do you develop your colourful and textural art?

Dyeing and printing fabric has been a part of my arts practice since the beginning. I had a limited budget when I started creating textile art, as I had a young family, and also because we lived in an isolated region. So I had to be inventive in creating my own fabrics. As time progressed, it became an important element in my work.

I’ve always been inspired by nature and environmental issues, as I’ve lived in a reasonably wild region of the world. I’ve seen the catastrophic effects of pine plantations, fires and farming, and how they’ve impacted all of nature.

My earlier work dealt with issues of bushfires – the Hellfire Series. That’s morphed into working with natural inks, again using sustainability and environmental concerns in this practice.

I’ve collaborated with Australian artist Cheryl Cook, under the name Inkpot Alchemists, to make natural inks with vegetation from the bush and from our gardens. I use them to colour and print on fabric and paper. Some of the vegetation for the inks has been sourced in very small amounts from the Crinigan Bushland Reserve, where I walk regularly.

The printing has developed into more elaborate linocuts over the years. I also print with nature itself, particularly when using natural inks. I like to think of it as a partnership with nature, which is full of surprises.

Today, my home is my studio, as I live alone in Morwell, Australia, a small city in the industrial Latrobe Valley in Gippsland, Victoria. When I collaborate with Cheryl, we work together in her studio in Tanjil South.

See, play & stitch

You’ve created a Stitch Club workshop – tell us about the artwork you developed during the process.

The artwork I created incorporates two of my favourite techniques: linocut printing and hand stitch, as well as a favourite subject matter, travel. The workshop is all about observations, play and stitch, and is inspired by travel, gardens and nature.

The motifs for the workshop were inspired by my travels in Perugia, Italy in 2023. I spent two weeks there visiting galleries and museums and enjoying the countryside. I was inspired by the ambience and history of this hilltop town in Umbria.

The work incorporates printing one’s own fabric inspired by travel encounters, and then stitching into it to recreate the rich textures.

I chose emblems I’ve encountered, which included rabbits on woven cloth in the artisan weaving workshop, Giuditta Brozzetti Museum and Atelier, and many representations of trees seen in paintings. I also include sculptures and posters, the griffin – the heraldic emblem for Perugia – and the many madonnas in paintings and textile designs.

The stitching enlivens and connects the images. This process is adapted from the type of work I do in my Traveller’s Blanket series, which are vehicles for telling stories of encounters and travels. The linocuts allow me to make printed fabric incorporating images from the place, and the stitching is the mark making that connects those images to create a whole.

History of lace

How did you develop your artistic skills over time?

I was born in the Netherlands and my parents migrated to Australia when I was nine years old. When we first arrived we lived on a very large station (63,000 acres) 18 miles from Jerilderie, a country town in New South Wales. I attended the Australian National University where I studied Arts Law and practised for 10 years as a solicitor.

I was initially self taught in art and textiles, but in the early 2000’s I embarked on a master’s degree in visual and performing arts through distance learning. It saw me create work inspired by the history of migration in my own family, and interpret that using lace.

I could trace part of my family to the early 1600s and Huguenot French, which was a similar timeline to lace developing in Europe, and so I created lace reflecting this journey.

My work has always been about themes and series; in a sense, they’re stories and record my interests in history, art, nature and the environment.

Exploring through journalling

When planning and researching, how do you develop ideas for your work?

I keep a journal, not a sketch book as such. I do draw in my journal and might keep interesting snippets of brochures or some such.

But a lot of my journal is writing – I might write about encounters, but often also the ambience of a place and the feelings it might inspire. The writing might be as prosaic as ‘I need to do more work’, but on the other hand might explore thematic or philosophical ideas.

This journalling process allows me to write about the work in an essay style, expressing ideas about, for example, the environment. It may or may not develop into a body of work or an exhibition, but it helps me to explore themes.

“My writing is a process of exploration and evolution – it can allow me to develop poetry around the theme, as well as visual imagery to use in my art.”

Dijanne Cevaal, Textile artist

I think about my work in writing, but not as individual pieces – more as a thematic body of work. I also go down many rabbit holes. I enjoy researching by way of books and or other media. I have quite a formidable, eclectic library.

I also mind map themes. If I’m really exploring a theme in depth, I’ll dedicate a separate journal for that. I’ll often start with a mind map to help me keep on track, but also to add things to, as I spend time exploring.

Narrative layers

How do you begin a new artwork?

As I explore my theme by way of mind maps and my journal, I develop some ideas for printed images on fabric that help to tell the story. I then embellish those prints with stitch to create a rich, almost narrative, layer.

A lot of my work is intuitive, one thing leads to another, and I don’t necessarily plan or record those – it comes out of the process itself and I get carried away.

I’ll dye the fabric, as all my work commences with white or unbleached khadi fabric. I’ll then add print. I usually work with whole cloth and add stitch by machine and/or by hand. Sometimes I’ll add appliqué if the piece needs it.

In my artworks Coqueclicot I and II I used a technique called Tifaifai. If the designs are cut carefully, you end up with a positive cutout and a negative cutout, both of which can be made into finished pieces.

In my piece Medieval Concertina Book I’ve hand stitched mulberry paper, which softens beautifully as you stitch.

Natural cotton fabrics

What fabrics, threads and other materials do you like to use in your work?

I use cotton fabrics, especially unbleached khadi cotton, obtained from The Stitching Project in India, which I hand dye.

I sometimes buy ordinary white cotton purchased from IKEA, or linen sheets bought secondhand at brocante markets in France. I source flannel for batting or other lightweight batting, textile printing inks, and cotton – usually cotton perlé #8 thread or linen (merlin) threads – from Fonty in France.

Stitching while travelling

Where do you like to create your art?

I work in a dedicated workroom, though I tend to use most of my house for creating. My kitchen table is regularly used for the work I do with natural ink, and when the weather is fine I also work outside.

When I travel, I usually work on one of the travellers blankets, as this requires a relatively small kit: scissors, cotton perlé #8 threads and some needles, which means it can pack very small.

The blankets take so much time that it keeps me occupied the entire time I travel. But having said that, I usually am carrying an exhibition and my hand printed panels for sale, so there’s not much room for anything else.

My image of Journey Through My Surface Design is of works created in 2018 for an exhibition of travellers blankets. It was entitled Exploration Australia, Atauro Island, The Temptation of Persephone. All were entirely hand stitched and hand dyed khadi with a mix of applied linocut motifs or simply hand stitched.

Teaching in the community

Tell us about some of the art projects and residencies you’ve done.

My residency with Boneca de Atauro on the island of Atauro in South-East Asia was all about community, as well as teaching skills and ideas I had for the women to develop a marketable product.

Boneca de Atauro is a women’s group of 60-70 women: that varies depending upon need and capacity. It’s not fostered by an NGO but directed and driven by the women themselves. It’s been one of the most inspiring and communal ways of working I’ve seen.

As such, it wasn’t really about developing my own work, though it inevitably did.

It was more about helping to improve the women’s skills. As a teacher in an environment where scholastic learning was absent, except amongst the younger women (and then usually only basic level education because they were girls), it took a little while to settle in. Also, they spoke very little English and I spoke no Tetun and only small snips of Portuguese.

I couldn’t just march in and lay out the skills; I had to observe how they worked and how they learnt.

They worked a lot with treadle machines. I’d never actually worked on one so I thought I should learn. In a way, it was this that broke the ice.

I wasn’t instantly good at using a treadle machine, and so nearly every woman there showed me how, or would gently guide me.

“This learning interchange resulted in equalising our relationship, so the women became receptive to learning from an outsider.”

Dijanne Cevaal, Textile artist

Culturally, their hierarchies are circular, not linear like Western societies. They needed to make a presentation to the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs for a working grant. So we sat and mind mapped so that I could comprehend, but also present, their case for them in a more understanding way. It was an amazing experience and I do hope to go back.

It’s very difficult for the group to source supplies, and the fabric they work with isn’t good quality cotton. The small island is 20 nautical miles from Dili, the capital of East Timor, so there are many logistical difficulties, which makes their story all the more inspiring.

I’ve also worked with The Stitching Project in India, working on stitching and teaching skills to some of the women. As they use a lot of woodblock print, I showed them ways to incorporate stitch into the patterns created by the woodblock.

Exhibiting art quilts

My one big takeaway has been to be inspired by other ways of working, and to look, watch, understand and learn.

In the year 2000, I co-curated, with Frederique Tison, a travelling exhibition of Australian Art Quilts. They were shown at Chateau de Chassy in the Morvan region in France.

Coincidentally, 2000 also happened to be the year that the Olympics were held in Sydney, Australia. We were the only Australian Textile and Art exhibition in Europe, so it attracted much attention in France and ended up being shown at the Australian Embassy in Paris.

This led to curating more Australian Art quilt exhibitions, one of which travelled to the Middle East at the invitation of Robert Bowker, the Australian Ambassador to Egypt, Syria and Libya. I accompanied the exhibition for much of this, demonstrating and installing it.

These exhibitions included 30 works by Australian quilt artists and were much appreciated for their innovation, colour and expression of place.

Interpreting nature

Which piece of your textile art is your favourite?

I don’t have a particular favourite, but I do enjoy working on the travellers blankets, as these are entirely stitched by hand and are storybooks of a sort.

I also enjoy working on my sewing machine, usually on whole cloth heavily stitched pieces. My favourites amongst machine work are the forest scenes, as these allow me to make comments about the environment and nature, and to interpret nature.

Vision makes art

What do you think are the biggest challenges you face as a textile artist?

Breaking down the prejudices of textile being art and the perceptions that it’s a little hobby that women do. This lowliness in esteem means that textile artists often have to teach their techniques in order to sustain themselves, which means taking away energy from art creation.

Galleries have been very slow in accepting textiles as art. It’s the double whammy of being perceived as having been ‘made’ by women and actually being ‘created’ by women. And we all know that women are underrepresented in the gallery system.

“Technique alone does not produce art – it’s the ideas, interpretations and visions that make the art.”

Dijanne Cevaal, Textile artist

Individual expression

What advice would you give to an aspiring textile artist?

Mind maps really help – it helps to focus ideas and establish avenues of research and exploration.

And keep doing the work: working consistently and daily helps establish a pattern of work, but also allows daily time for exploration. Working sporadically means you start over each time, but working daily, even if it’s only for an hour, helps establish continuity.

The techniques I use and the materials – dyeing and printing my own fabrics – allow me to tell stories of places visited and encounters with nature. These kinds of techniques allow for very individual expression and help me to develop my own voice.

“My needle and thread are my pencil and mark making tool – the fact that the stitching produces texture is an added bonus.”

Dijanne Cevaal, Textile artist

Here’s another fact: we can overwhelm our spaces and ourselves with all that we collect. Piles of fabric, boxes of beads, overflowing bobbins, and pins and needles everywhere can make for a chaotic maker space. 

Fear not! We’ve asked some well-known textile artists and some of our Stitch Club members to share their best tips for organising their creative spaces. Some of these makers have separate studios while others create art in their homes, but all of their strategies could work well in almost any space.

We feature tips from Elisabeth Rutt, Jennifer Collier, Jeannie Holler, Lauren Austin, Jess Richardson, Isobel Currie, Rosalind Byass and Deborah Boschert.

Their overarching goals are to know what they have to hand and how to easily find what they need. What more could you ask for?

It’s time to get organised!

Elisabeth Rutt

Elisabeth Rutt, Textile artist: Keeping my materials organised first by type and then by colour makes it so much easier to find something when needed. It’s a filing system of sorts that helps prevent wasted time. 

I use clear plastic sweetie jars to house cotton perlé threads which I then sort and group together by colour in each jar. I keep machine threads, sorted by colour, in clear plastic shoe boxes.

My fabrics are grouped by type, such as cottons, sheers, silks, velvets, weaves, textured and ‘specials’. I use wire baskets on a frame that works as drawers, and if I have enough, I’ll group them by colour as well.

Colour coded threads

Space is limited in my studio, so for my threads, I use a set of coloured plastic drawers on castors for any extra threads of whatever type. The red drawer has a glorious mixture of red threads of all weights, as does the green, blue and other colours. 

I also use microwave food containers to hold buttons sorted by colour and then nestle them in with the threads. And I have a smaller set of very similar drawers for seed beads organised by colour.

Organise tools by technique

I have years and years worth of collected fabrics, threads, art and design materials, books and tools, so I’ve had to learn what to keep near me and what to archive elsewhere when not in use. 

I have clear plastic crates on warehousing shelves in our garage and shed. They’re organised by technique. For example, mono-printing tools and equipment are in one, while transfer printing equipment with suitable fabrics and papers are in another.

“My biggest challenge is deciding what to archive out of my room to make space for making new work!”

Elisabeth Rutt, Textile artist

Elisabeth Rutt works from her home studio in Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk. She tutors and mentors design and textile students in schools and adult education. In 2022, she was accepted as a member of the Society of Designer Craftsmen.

Artist website: elisabethrutt.co.uk
Instagram: @elisabethrutt
Facebook: elisabethruttstitchedtextiles

Lauren Austin

Lauren Austen, Quilt artist: I don’t have a system for storage, more a system for easy making. My creative space is a work in progress. It isn’t and shouldn’t be perfect. I work on many pieces at once, switching back and forth when I want something different. 

I used to put unfinished works in a closet or drawer, and they’d often be forgotten. So, I now pin unfinished work on big design walls in my living space. 

This allows me to study them when doing other things and think about what to do next. And because I create images of people, they’re always watching me. It’s like they’re saying ‘Lauren, stop playing that video game. The vacuuming can wait. Get busy and finish me!’ 

I also stopped hiding my fabric stash. I now use clear plastic bins, but I don’t spend a lot of time organising by colour or type. I like to open the bins and discover useful colours and textures. The search is part of the process.

Wall storage

My tools are also stored on the wall. I used to put them in toolboxes, and of course, they became ‘out of sight, out of mind’. Now I use magnetic strips for my scissors and metal tools, along with a wooden holder for my linoleum and wood block pieces. Keeping my tools in sight gives me the nudge to use them more frequently.

Workspaces everywhere

My workspace is my apartment, and every room except the kitchen, one bedroom and one bathroom is considered a workspace. But it’s not chaotic, because I try to put things back in their place when done. 

I like working on art as much as possible, so it’s pleasing to see my tools and unfinished pieces on display. 

Lauren Austin is based in Florida, USA. Formerly a human rights lawyer and lecturer, she became a full-time artist, storyteller and instructor in 2004. Her work is held in collections at the Smithsonian Museum of American Art (Washington, DC, US) and the International Quilt Museum in Lincoln, Nebraska, US.

Artist website: thatblackgirlart.com
Instagram: @blackgirlart1959

Rosalind Byass

Rosalind Byass, Stitch Club member: From the outset of participating in Stitch Club, I didn’t want my sample pieces stored in boxes. I wanted them to be easily accessible, arranged in a practical manner and visually appealing. So, I decided to design and construct a decorative textile journal.

It’s a working journal in which I can display completed workshop pieces as well as add and subtract samples. I made it large enough to hold the ever-growing number of pieces I’ve created and will continue to create.  

“Every bit of my journal is made from recycled materials.”

Rosalind Byass, Stitch Club member

I’m passionate about recycling, reusing and reinventing, and it’s reflected within my textile art.

The journal’s cover is a visually striking original design hand stitched in wool on hessian with some hand appliqué. The durable cover is reinforced and lined with a large felt insert.

The smaller decorative ‘tiles’ on the cover began life as lockdown stitch meditations. Each day, I stitched for a half hour without any pre-planned intent. I just mindfully focused on the task at hand.

The journal’s pages are made from offcuts of heavy upholstery fabric bound with hand stitching. The hand stitching adds weight to the edges as well as gives a more finished look. 

Pinned samples

I pin my sample pieces on the pages with ordinary dressmaking pins, making it easy to remove or rearrange them. Some pages also have large deep pockets to accommodate bulkier items such as fabric books.

I don’t include any written information, drawings or works in progress. It’s designed purely as a repository for completed samples. 

My greatest challenge was how to turn the heavy and bulky pages. I needed something that allowed for stretching, so I used threaded elastic and added knots between the pages. It works perfectly. 

Rosalind Byass lives in Melbourne, Australia. She is a textile artist creating original work often centred around memory, indulging her passions for pattern, colour and using recycled materials. Rosalind joined Stitch Club in 2020.

Deborah Boschert

Deborah Boschert, Textile artist: A few years ago, I decided to work with just one notebook at a time. I had been writing ideas on random sheets of paper or whatever was handy and, no surprise, they’d get mixed up or lost. I now keep everything in a single notebook: to-do lists, sketches, podcast recommendations, project ideas, workshop notes and other items as they come up.

I settled on a size and style I like, and I only use that same type of notebook. It’s a Strathmore 400 Series Sketch Pad, measuring 14cm x 21.6cm (5½” x 8½”).  

When I finish a notebook, I go back through it and make tabs on the pages I might want to refer to in the future. Honestly, I could do a better job with this part of the process. And I mark the start and end dates on the cover of each notebook. The dates can help me refer back to a special project or event if I know the timeframe to consider.

Project boxes

I also use a ‘project box’ when creating a new art quilt collage. After selecting fabrics reflecting my chosen colour palette, I keep the scraps and small pieces of fabric I don’t use in a plastic bin. I love how it keeps all those fabrics in one place, and if I need to add or patch something along the way, it’s all right there.

I often grow attached to the colours or ideas I’ve used, and I use the project box leftovers to make something similar or smaller. 

Selecting a cohesive, inspiring colour palette is one of the most important and challenging parts of the creative process for me. Using project box fabrics allows me to skip that part of the process since they’ve already been selected and finessed during the last project. 

Deborah Boschert is based in Texas, USA. She creates art quilts, teaches and is the author of Art Quilt Collage: A Creative Journey in Fabric Paint and Stitch. Deborah’s work is installed as a mural in the Dallas Arts District.

Artist website: deborahsstudio.com
Instagram: @deborahboschert
Facebook: DeborahBoschertArtist

Isobel Currie

Isobel Currie, Textile artist: My studio is a small room in my home, so it needs to be versatile because I use it for all stages of my creative practice. I have an electric desk with an adjustable height. And my storage cupboards and drawers are behind me as I sit at my desk by the window. I use a swivel chair to easily gain access to all areas of my workspace.

I have always been someone who prefers order, so my main organising strategy is to keep my creative space clear by storing tools and materials. They’re still accessible when needed but storing them prevents distraction when working. I also prefer having my materials displayed by colour and type, making it easier to see what I have available. 

Planning your storage

I spent a considerable amount of time planning how to organise everything in an efficient way and then invested in appropriate furniture. I have a large purpose-built cupboard fitted with drawers, shelves and containers to house my threads, beads and tools. Fabrics are kept nearby in a group of Muji stackable drawers.  

I also have to keep my desk area clear when stitching because I use long lengths of threads. So, a flexible Prym tool holder holds my pliers and cleaning brushes neatly away. I also have an Ikea desktop container close at hand that houses my essential tools, including scissors, tweezers, pencils and rulers. 

I designed and made a pincushion that has marked areas for different types of pins and needles. A Hemline magnetic needle holder also helps keep my very tiny needles and clips safe. And I keep bobbins of thread and other materials on a DoCrafts Anita’s Clear Away Tray so that they can be easily moved around.

Isobel Currie is based in Greater Manchester, UK. She is an exhibiting member of the 62 Group of Textile Artists and is the winner of the 2023 Fine Art Textile Award for the most innovative use of textiles. 

Artist website: isobelcurrie.com
Instagram: @isobel_currie_artist
Facebook: Isobel Currie, Embroidery Artist

Jeannie Holler 

Jeannie Holler, Stitch Club member: My primary goal is to use tools that bring clarity to my work. Organising those tools also helps me focus my ideas, thoughts and creativity. 

Plastic bins and boxes allow me to categorise and sort both my tools and fabrics. These bins were my ‘first aid’ when it came to organising my studio. Another important addition is a shelf and cabinet system, which allows me to store those bins in ways that give me easy reference and access to my supplies.

Easy access sewing machine

My greatest challenge was the fact I personified my sewing machine. I didn’t want to ‘hurt its feelings’ by putting it away under a table or in a closet. I did have a sewing cabinet, but my sewing machine was too large. 

Fortunately, my husband was able to adjust the cabinet’s opening using a jigsaw and white paint. Now I can lower the machine when not in use and have an additional flat workspace. And my sewing machine hasn’t complained once!

Even better, the old dining table on which my sewing machine had sat was now free to reuse as a large work and cutting table. The studio became more open and user friendly, and I can now see out my window as I sew. 

Jeannie Holler is based in northern California, USA, and joined Stitch Club in 2020. She especially enjoys hand embroidery and crewel work. Jeannie also machine quilts and then adds hand embellishments.

Jennifer Collier

Jennifer Collier, Textile artist: After 25 years of never being able to find the perfect paper that I knew was hidden somewhere in my stash, I created an effective filing system. 

I have all my vintage papers in clear plastic boxes under my desk. Each box contains papers grouped by a similar theme or other shared feature. I’ve even organised my stationary the same way.

“Having all my materials and equipment close to hand and easy to find reduces frustration and allows more time for making.”

Jennifer Collier, Textile artist

Hiding the clutter 

I work from my own gallery, so because my space is open to the public, everything is neatly stashed away behind my counter. You’d be amazed at how much I have stored there! 

The retail area also doubles as storage. I have different sized recycled drawers for my sewing machine and haberdashery, that not only hide my stored equipment but also allow me to beautifully display my work on the front edge of my desk. 

Hooks & hangers

I have some S hooks hanging on the backs of the drawers to hold scissors, punches and tape. I even hang my orders and postal receipts to help streamline the making and posting of orders. And I made a pull-out packaging shelf that has tissue paper, stickers, postage labels and return address stickers. This means I can now package my work without having to clear my desk.

Lastly, I set up a shelved area at the back of the space to house all my workshop resources, examples and materials. It also houses my maps (arranged by region) and books (arranged by colour) which can be reached by a perfectly-sized vintage library ladder. It’s my favourite part of the space, as I can instantly find the paper I need when an order comes in.

Jennifer Collier is based near Stafford, UK. Her work has been featured in over 100 magazines and in many books. Jennifer’s work has been shown internationally and is stocked in galleries at The Museum of Art and Design (New York), Liberty, and the Victoria and Albert Museum. 

Artist website: jennifercollier.co.uk/
Instagram: @paperjennifer
Facebook: paperjennifer

Jess Richardson 

Jess Richardson, Stitch Club member: When the pandemic hit, I worked from home. After a few months sitting among bags and boxes of my stash, I knew I had to get organised. 

Fortunately, I had space for a deep double wardrobe, but I needed one with attractive doors as the wardrobe would be my backdrop for on-camera work meetings. Online meetings definitely forced me to be tidy!

I purchased a wardrobe from IKEA and then set myself a ‘cupboard rule’: I could only have materials and supplies that fit behind the wardrobe’s doors. Nothing else! 

I’m happy to report I’m still sticking to that rule, but it’s been challenging at times. 

“My cupboard rule does make me consider whether I need anything new.”

Jess Richardson, Stitch Club member

I can easily pull out what I need since everything is organised in one place. It also keeps my husband happy because my stuff isn’t taking over the house!

I also use other IKEA storage solutions, including big square see-through cubes for small pieces of fabric (one for patterned and one for plain). Pull-out wire baskets are great for tools, paper and art materials. Small clip-lock boxes hold beads, and large storage boxes hold yarns, ribbons and card embellishments. Larger pieces of fabric are sorted by colour, folded and put on shelves.

I usually make things at the dining table or on my lap, so I also put everything I’m using in a box lid or tray so I can set it aside at the end of the day. But when I retire, I’ll be able to use my large sit-stand work desk as my new making space. I’ll blissfully be able to leave my projects out.

Jess Richardson lives in Hampshire, UK. She loves mixed media, especially using paper or printing with stitch. Jess joined Stitch Club in 2020.

Now that you’ve learned tips for organising your workspace, is it time to stop adding to your stash? Learn creative tips for working with what you already have and more.

Featured stitchers

• Elisabeth Rutt is based in Suffolk, UK and is a member of the Society of Designer Craftsmen.
• Lauren Austin is based in Florida, USA and is known for her story quilts.
• Deborah Boschert is based in Texas, USA and is the author of Art Quilt Collage: A Creative Journey in Fabric Paint and Stitch. 
• Isobel Currie is based in Greater Manchester, UK and is a member of the 62 Group of Textile Artists.
• Jennifer Collier is based near Stafford, UK and is known for her stitched paper artworks using recycled materials.
• Rosalind Byass is based in Melbourne, Australia and joined Stitch Club in 2020.
• Jeannie Holler is based in northern California, USA, and joined Stitch Club in 2020. 
• Jess Richardson is based in Hampshire, UK and joined Stitch Club in 2020.

Beverly creates art that encourages viewers to purposely explore grief, loss and memory. Her work helps them understand that letting go doesn’t mean forgetting.

She incorporates many techniques across her portfolio, including painting, staining and sanding. But Beverly’s signature technique is the use of torn fabrics and stitch. Raw edges are her thing, and she generously shares how those torn bits contribute to a larger understanding of mourning and loss.

Beverly also describes how a degree in microbiology and her scientific research continues to influence her creative process. Her portfolio is clearly rooted in art and science, and it’s stunning.

Take a breath, get comfortable, and learn how hope can be found in loss, absence and grief.

Loss, absence & grief

Beverly Ayling-Smith: My textile art focuses on the emotional dimensions of loss, absence and grief. We all experience loss in our lives, and it’s very easy to try to get on and get over it without taking time to acknowledge those feelings.

I use a muted palette and make work that has a poetic narrative. My art is not embellished or figurative, but instead uses stitch, print and colour as metaphors for loss.

“Everyone processes grief differently, and I try to use textiles in ways that connect viewers with any unresolved grief in their lives.”

Beverly Ayling-Smith, Textile artist

A foundation in science

My grandmother taught me how to knit and crochet. I didn’t do much with textiles at school, although I do remember tablet weaving when I was 10 or 11. I loved it, but we only did it one afternoon a week. We’d put our work on a table at the back of the classroom between classes, and everyone’s weaving got completely tangled up. A good exercise in untangling threads!

I later wanted to design and stitch a ruby wedding anniversary card for my in-laws, but I didn’t know how to start. So I jumped into a City and Guilds Part 1 six weekends a year for two years at Missenden Abbey. I completed Part 2 at Windsor with Jan Beaney and Jean Littlejohn.

I got hooked on the courses and tuition, so I completed the Windsor Diploma class and a distance learning Bachelor of Arts honours course at Opus School of Textile Arts.

“My scientific background has a real influence on my thinking and the way I use my sketchbooks.”

Beverly Ayling-Smith, Textile artist

Prior to my arts education, my first degree was in microbiology. I worked in antibiotic research and then in a lab dealing with hospital acquired infection. When I wanted to spend more time with my young children, I knew the job wasn’t suited for part time, so I took a break. That’s when I found I had a desire to make using textiles.

My sketchbooks usually contain lists of samples to try, evidence of the results, and what to try next time if not satisfied. They are more like reflective journals than traditional books of sketches.

Research informs art

Some concepts discovered during my PhD research have keenly influenced my practice and thinking about making.

The work of psychologist Professor Dennis Klass and his theory of continuing bonds particularly informs my work. He described how, in some cases, attachments to the deceased are maintained rather than relinquished, and letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. That was an important discovery for me.

“It made me realise there was a benefit in keeping in mind the memory of those who have died.”

Beverly Ayling-Smith, Textile artist

The exhibition catalogue from Textures of Memory: The Poetics of Cloth by Julia Curtis also influenced my thinking.

Julia wrote that the manipulation of fabric in textile art has its own vocabulary: fold, drape, stretch, stain and tear. She explained how those words signify an emotional range from intimacy, comfort and protection to more disquieting states of restriction, fragility, loss and impermanence.

The catalogue also features an essay by Pennina Barnett. It was challenging, but its poetic nature means it can be read many times with something new resonating each time.

A favourite quote of mine is: ‘The poetics of cloth are composed of folds, fragments and surfaces of infinite complexity. The fragment bears witness to a broken whole, yet it’s also a site of uncertainty from which to start over.’

Pennina also suggests that ‘to fold’ is to ‘withdraw into the recesses of a world’. But it’s not a lament or loss, for the fold is without beginning or end.

The lives of linens

Bedsheets and pillowcases are currently the most suitable type of cloth to use in my work.

A bedsheet holds many memories for viewers. It may trigger memories of other artworks that use sheets or other uses of a sheet. But it also likely reminds viewers of their own personal experiences with bedsheets, including the repeated and endless tasks of washing and ironing.

“There’s an intimacy in a sheet’s touch. It covers the naked body. It witnesses pleasure, pain, illness and death.”

Beverly Ayling-Smith, Textile artist

As viewers look at my work, their memories related to bedsheets and pillows can be tapped to complete my art. As described by the writer Umberto Eco, a work of art may have an undefined meaning that must be completed by viewers acting as interpreters according to their own knowledge and personal experiences.

My use of a bedsheet therefore creates a connection with the audience and allows for exchanges to address their shared experiences in the world. The artwork acts as a catalyst for the viewer to remember.

Wall of Memory

In 2012, I made a textile wall that was 5 metres wide by 3 metres high for the Cloth and Memory exhibition in Salts Mill, Saltaire. When viewers stood close to the wall to examine the surface detail, its overwhelming size filled their fields of vision.

For Wall of Memory, I sought to revisit the idea of making a wall but using a whole bedsheet. I wanted the surface to look like bricks in a wall, so I attached pieces of paper to the back of the sheet and painted it with bitumen paint from the back. The gaps between the papers looked like the edges of stones in a wall.

I then tore the fabric and inserted copies of letters I had received from people who were no longer with me. Seven had died in a short period of time. Stitching the letters in place was a way to hold and honour their memories.

Layers of Memory

Layers of Memory is a body of work that questions what we remember, and how we revisit, refine, and reconstruct events and feelings of the past.

Why is it that some memories come readily to mind whilst others must be pieced together from fragments? Do we feel what we felt then, or what we felt the last time we remembered?

This collection built upon my previous research into emotional barriers and vulnerability. I used pillowcases and inherited bedsheets to explore and question whether we preserve the past or reconstruct it in light of the present.

Creative process

New work always starts with reading, making notes, picking out phrases, and figuring out what I want a piece to say. Sometimes an idea for a piece comes fully formed. I’ll know the colour, size, techniques to be used and even the title. Others start with a phrase or just a word.

Once I have an idea for a work, I may do some sketches in my sketchbook using marks that look like stitching or patches of fabric. That makes the drawing easier to interpret in fabric.

Then I start sampling, sometimes first with paper, but always with fabric. Many of the pieces I make are quite large, so I need to know my idea will work before I embark on a piece of fabric that large.

“The bedsheets I work with hold a special provenance, as they are vintage unused field hospital sheets from the Second World War.”

Beverly Ayling-Smith, Textile artist

The bed sheets were found in a bunker in France after the war ended. Their significance to me is that my father-in-law was wounded a few days after D-Day and was hospitalised in France for some time.

I share my creative process, and my interest in memory and loss, in my workshop for Stitch Club members. Members will create a personal artwork that celebrates the memory of a person or express their reflection on a life lived. They’ll learn some of my techniques, including painting, transfer techniques and stitch.

Ripping & tearing

Much of my studio practice uses cloth torn into smaller pieces to create rag-like fragments. For me, the torn edge of a fragment of a larger piece represents the edge of forgetting and is physical evidence the fragment was once part of a larger whole.

The whole cloth contains the memory we try to retain, but it continues to fray and fragment as over time we continue to forget. It’s the only remaining reminder of events and relationships that can trigger what has otherwise been forgotten.

“Torn cloth, eventually discarded as useless rags, is like a memory fragment.”

Beverly Ayling-Smith, Textile artist

The piece Shredded in the Torn Apart exhibition was created from hundreds of torn strips of bedsheet material that had been painted black. I went into my studio in the morning and just tore fabric. I made snips in the length of fabric and then just ripped away.

It was during the lockdown period in early 2020, so it was a good way to relieve frustration and anger. There’s also something about the sound of tearing fabric that contributed to the piece.

To reference the size of my body, the fabric strips are attached to a backing fabric that matches my height and shoulder width measurements (1.68m x 45cm / 5.5′ x 18″).

Adding layers

Once I’ve prepared fabric by tearing it to a particular size, I choose from a variety of layering techniques. I may add patches and lines of stitch, or I might add painting and printing. I use various types of paint, including household emulsion paint, bitumen, acrylic, silk paints and ink. I’ve recently been experimenting with earth pigments.

An element of destruction might take place, using waxing and painting and then sanding with an electric sander. Or I might add a layer of chalk or ash.

I use bitumen paint to stain fabric. I think of stains as accidental marks on fabrics rather than intentional painting or dyeing processes. Staining with bodily fluids has a connotation of the shame of defilement that comes with it as described in Mary Douglas’ book Purity and Danger.

“A stain is a record of the time when the staining substance was expelled from the body, whether involuntarily or as the result of violence.”

Beverly Ayling-Smith, Textile artist

Stains represent substances that are on the border, both inside and outside the body. A liminal substance that disturbs and unsettles. Many artists have used staining in their work, including Ed Ruscha, Chiyoko Tanaka and Shelly Goldsmith.

Not all these techniques go into one piece. But having a range of techniques available is important.

Meditative hand stitch

Most of my work includes hand stitching that’s often quite repetitive. For me, it’s a meditative process done in quiet concentration.

My stitch choices are usually simple, and they’re functional stitches used to mend areas or bring attention to a particular area. For me, there must be a reason for using a particular stitch. I often use a running stitch to hold down patches. If I want a bold line, I like using whipped chain stitch.

In terms of thread choices, I use linen or silk thread if I’m going to paint the work after stitching. I also use one thread of six-stranded cotton, particularly if I’ve already coloured the background and want a similar coloured thread.

I store my threads by colour. At the beginning of a piece of work, I select some of the threads in different weights I think I will need. I put them in a tray or box lid, to keep them together with needles and scissors. Having everything in one place helps prevent me from being distracted while working.

Greatest creative challenge

In 2011, I received an invitation to be a part of the Cloth and Memory 2011 exhibition at Salt’s Mill in Saltaire, Yorkshire. I was given a solo exhibition space with nearly 20 metres of wall to fill.

Although I had been invited, I still had to visit the mill and then write a proposal for the selection panel. It took until February the following year to get everything in place, and the exhibition opened in July 2012.

A serious amount of work had to be made including remembering, repeating and working through, which filled an entire wall. In total, I created 11 new artworks, as well as a videotaped interview and catalogue essay. I also had to host a workshop.

At the same time, my PhD schedule required annual reviews and conference presentations! I had to get organised, so I created multiple lists and a day-by-day chart tracking my progress and due dates. I’ve used that planning method since, and it works well for me.

Garden studio

I’m very lucky to have a studio in the garden. The home we purchased had a ‘granny annexe’ that was never occupied and had no heating. So, I turned it into my own studio.

It has a desk with my computer on it, as well as a worktable made from a very thick plywood covered with a wipeable cloth. The legs of the table are drawer units that house my materials and equipment.

I built storage cupboards under the stairs that lead to a guest bedroom, so there’s plenty of space for all my stuff. As it’s away from the house, it’s really quiet and I can work undisturbed.

She uses embroidery on silk and maps to raise awareness about the impact of global warming, advocating for the natural world she loves.

By engaging with scientists and asking insightful questions, Bonnie strives to make the science of climate change more accessible. While understanding equations, graphs and statistics can be daunting for many, they’re second nature to Bonnie, thanks to her background in marketing and market research.

Now Bonnie uses her ability with numbers to translate complex scientific data about climate change into easy-to-understand visual narratives that are central to her work.

Her materials are silk, velvet, thread, maps, old journals and history. Her tools are words, numbers and graphs. Bonnie’s use of colour, collage, mark making and embroidery creates a magical blend of art and science that sparks conversation and inspires action.

Bonnie Peterson: I’m a visual artist investigating environmental and social issues using embroidery on silk and maps.

My work is primarily narrative and integrated with data and history. It examines geophysical climate issues with the goal of promoting a fresh opportunity to consider climate change and an urgency to take action.

I’ve always been fond of maths – I worked with data and graphs during jobs in marketing and marketing research. I think this, and my college statistics classes, fostered my interest in promoting graphs and related maths with climate issues.

I design simple explanations of the important principles and difficult modelling scenarios in environmental science. By incorporating these in my work, I hope to break down some of the maths-phobic barriers confronting climate maths and climate graphs.

For example, Turning Green illuminates data about the melting of Greenland’s glaciers using text, temperature and other recent climate data from NASA and the Jet Propulsion Lab research studies. I find it fascinating that this data is collected by twin satellites measuring gravity.

A basic understanding of the measurements and methods aids critical thinking, leading to more interest and acceptance of the consequences of warming.

Inspiring data

I am interested in the technical aspects of environmental data collection – I want to understand the mechanism behind the numbers, and the context and relevance of the data.

For example, Argo floats, which feature in Ocean Heat, collect data on ocean characteristics such as temperature and salinity. Ocean Heat shows heat content in the top 700 metres (2,300ft) of the ocean, plus data collection tools and the relevance of heat content to climate science. This artwork promotes an understanding of the physical science behind warming.

Drought explains how snow water equivalent data and tree ring science were used in 2015 to record the worst drought in California in 500 years. The goal of Drought is to engage viewers in the scientific process and lead to a greater understanding of the changing background conditions brought on by global temperature increase.

‘The science and maths behind climate equations, graphs and models are fascinating and seldom brought to the fore.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Text & texture

Text is an important feature of my work. It has evolved from applying text using transfers to using free motion embroidery.

Mixing a variety of source materials such as scientific data and early explorer’s journals, I stitch words and graphs on velvet and silk fabrics to make large narrative wall hangings and a series of topographic maps.

I annotate topographic maps with a labyrinth of climate variables at various future temperature and emission scenarios.

‘Stitching is a key element and I use a mix of hand and free motion embroidery.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

The surface of my work is a blend of appliqué and piecing, although not necessarily done in the traditional way. For example, sometimes I attach transfers with big suture-type stitches.

I enjoy adding hand stitches, crewel and crazy quilt stitches to random sections of my work. In Anthropocene CO₂, I’ve used traditional Kantha stitches in the velvet borders.

Science inspiration

I subscribe to a wide variety of web sources and journal articles for new climate research and to get a fresh look at climate science. The journal Nature is an excellent starting point.

There are an increasing number of reports about the negative aspects of climate change on the human body as the prevalence of heat waves increases dramatically.

I organise information on a variety of environmental and social topics in real and virtual folders. I then sift through the research related to a topic of interest that I want to spend more time developing into a piece of artwork.

I research the history of a topic and the data collection instruments such as satellites and ocean floats. Sometimes I will email a researcher to ask a question, to ask for more recent data, or for a different graph.

This process can take months, so I usually work on several projects at one time to allow sufficient time to work out kinks and make decisions.

‘I find that if there is a stopping point in a project, it turns out to be a good thing because it helps clarify an issue or thought.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Making sense

I assemble the background fabrics on a pin-up wall. Sometimes I photograph different fabric and thread colours to see what works.

Multiple layers of fabric usually require pin or thread basting. The centre layer is usually cotton flannel, which can withstand a hot iron.

Free motion embroidery is not computerised machine stitching. It’s where the ‘feed dogs’ are lowered and the hand moves the fabric in the style of writing. I like the happenstance of penmanship and the irregular sizes and spacing of words and numbers.

‘When I’m using free motion embroidery for text or a graph, I prefer to wing it rather than start with a marked line.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Free motion embroidery needs a stabiliser or a thick surface, so I use various methods to keep the thread from becoming twisted beneath the embroidered surface.

Solvy water soluble film, paper, tear-away or dissolving stabilisers or even just using a thick fabric surface helps with this problem.

I am interested in value, colour and contrast. I use a wide variety of threads from small diameter (such as size 40) cotton and polyester threads to thicker (size 12) wool, acrylic and rayon.

Silk thread is more difficult to find. I use all of these, whether doing hand stitching or free motion embroidery. Madeira is a source for the thicker rayon and wool threads and sparkly threads. I like the neon colours.

Exploring light

I love the shine and the directional nap of silk dupioni – it’s nubby and irregular. I like it as a base for embroidery. Different colours and reflectivity come out with various orientations of the fabric.

There are colour differences in the warp and weft. Velvet has some of these same properties in its differential shine and nap patterns.

In Days of Lead, you can see how I’ve used silk dupioni mixed with velvets. The artwork chronicles significant events during the first 1,000 days of toxic lead (Pb) in Flint, Michigan’s water supply, as well as environmental details about lead (Pb).

Both of these fabrics are difficult to find so I am always on the lookout. Mood Fabrics in New York City has unusual devoré or burnout velvets, and Silk Baron in Los Angeles has all kinds of silk and velvet.

Cool collaborations

I love partnering with scientists. Artist-scientist projects are a lot of fun because of the camaraderie, and the science is fascinating. Collaborations on concepts in fire ecology, atmospheric science, permafrost and other geosciences have driven my work.

I’ve participated in some exciting and rewarding projects including the University of Wisconsin, around issues of limnology – lake science and climate change; glaciology at Yosemite National Park; fire ecology at Northern Arizona University, exploring the intersection of extreme fires and societal change; dendrochronology, the science of dating tree rings, at the University of Arizona, as well as the declining mass of Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets, and permafrost melting.

Changing minds

The first project ‘Paradise Lost’ started in 2006. The University of Wisconsin-Madison brought artists and scientists together in Northern Wisconsin to learn about climate change.

Our goal was to make art for a travelling exhibition. The topic was not at the forefront of people’s minds as it is today.

That was the year former United States Vice President Al Gore’s movie, An Inconvenient Truth, came out. The terminology was transitioning from ‘global warming’ to the less confrontational ‘climate change’.

I was able to indulge my curiosity by asking many questions of the atmospheric scientists. I became interested in the CO₂ graphs made from ice cores and I used one of those graphs in my work.

Anthropocene (CO₂) depicts 400,000 years of CO₂ in the earth’s atmosphere. The Anthropocene Epoch is a unit of geologic time, used to describe the most recent period in Earth’s history when human activity started to have a significant impact on the planet’s climate and ecosystems.

On fire

Fires of Change: The Art of Fire Science was an artist/scientist project that explored how fire as an ecosystem process is impacted by climate change and societal development. Eleven artists attended educational field trips to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and other locations with fire managers and scientists.

During the boot camp, I saw that my notes contained a mess of arrows amongst a complex network of fire ecology variables. After I returned home and wondered what type of work I would make, my notes gave me the answer.

These arrows and the entanglement of fire attributes and consequences were the basis of On the Nature of Fire. I refined the notes by emailing the scientists until my diagram accurately reflected our workshop.

I embroidered the drawing onto a large deep purple piece of silk. I made the arrows and text more prominent against the deeply coloured background fabric by outlining the text and arrows with further embroidery. It turned out to be quite large with a velvet border.

As part of the project, I also made collages on two Grand Canyon topographic maps using text about the labour issues for wildland firefighters, the technical science issues of wildfire and the exploration history of the Grand Canyon.

In Phantom Ranch Quadrangle, I used collage, transfers, pen and stitching on a topographic map. I included text which contains fire terminology, the firefighter’s job description, information about their fire shelters and fire history from tree ring research. There is also text from John Wesley Powell’s Exploration of the Colorado River, 1895.

We had less than a year to complete our work so this large textile, plus two paper maps, had a tight deadline. On my website, I share more detail about my artistic process in engineering this complex artwork.

In nature

I have backpacked in the Sierras since the early 1980s and have a deep interest in the Muir Trail and in Yosemite National Park.

I have a large number of works which integrate the history and scientific measurements of the Lyell Glacier, Hetch Hetchy Reservoir and the John Muir Trail. These works were in the Fresno Art Museum a few years ago and the museum produced a YouTube studio tour video about them.

One project was inspired by a backpacking trip to measure the Lyell Glacier with Yosemite geologists. I wanted to make a piece about permafrost for a Chicago show, Geosciences Embroideries. It started out with a graph of the boreholes where permafrost temperatures are measured, using data from the Permafrost Laboratory at the University of Alaska at Fairbanks.

Transect illustrates the Lyell Glacier transect measurements from the 1930s through to 2012; John Boise Tilton’s journal from his 1871 first ascent of Mt Lyell; and John Muir’s description of the Lyell Glacier from 1800.

Permafrost investigations

Permafrost Boreholes includes a graph showing permafrost temperatures at a depth of 20 metres (65ft) in boreholes on Alaska’s North Slope for the past 40 years.

However, I soon discovered that permafrost is more complex than just borehole measurements. There is also the active layer and the issue of permafrost distribution.

This resulted in further artworks, Permafrost Active Layer and Permafrost Distribution. The latter shows a bird’s eye view of arctic permafrost and some of its characteristics. Permafrost thawing also releases carbon dioxide and methane into the atmosphere, causing even greater atmospheric warming.

World view

Although most of my work is two-dimensional, Climate Anomaly Globe gave me an opportunity to work in the round – literally.

In this artwork, more than 100 climate anomalies or deviations for 2017-20 are posted at each respective location around the globe. The 2020 anomalies are on red needles, 2019 are on green needles, 2018 are blue, and 2017 are yellow.

The anomaly data points are from NASA and the World Meteorological Organization. They are printed on over 100 flags and pinned onto a traditional school globe.

For example, one of the red needles that’s planted in the Arctic region states ‘2020 Arctic: 11th smallest maximum sea ice extent on record & 2nd smallest minimum extent on record.’

Finding time

When my kids were small I had National Park residencies. I would go on short backpacking trips with the kids while percolating ideas for artwork to make when I returned home.

The residencies were a great opportunity to balance seeing new parks and working on new issues, at the same time as looking after my family.

Back in the 1980s, I used standard USGS 7.5-minute topographic maps for orienteering in the backcountry (today, backpackers bring cell phones for navigation). I started to use these maps as the base for a collage of images and text about my wilderness trips.

Some images were transferred to silk and sewn by hand onto the maps and some were ironed directly onto the maps. In Glacier Survey Quadrangle I joined multiple maps together to look as if it were a single map.

When sewing a piece of silk onto a paper map I usually put a small piece of interfacing on the back of the map so that the needle holes do not tear the paper.

Lakeside adventures

I participated in Crater Lake’s Centennial Artist in Residence programme, whose goal was to generate artwork for a centennial exhibition. I requested dates in late March that year because I love to ski.

Crater Lake traditionally receives 12 metres (40ft) of snowfall, which boils down to six metres (20ft) on the ground. They received about a third reduced load that year but there was still enough snow to ski around the lake, a distance of 53km (33 miles).

I had quite an adventure during my backpacking ski trip around the lake, including a broken tent and stove. I made a wall hanging and embroidered the story of my ski trip in the borders with maps and also a large collaged map merging the Crater Lake East and West topographic maps.

One residency will sometimes inform another. At the Lucid Foundation near Point Reyes, California, I started a project where I integrated current and future global temperatures with the consequences of warming.

I used topographic maps as the background and marked them up with global temperature changes and climate consequences. I made a series of enlarged human-sized canvas maps with labyrinths of temperature consequences.

At another residency, I was able to refine these drawings and also a series of embroidered climate graphs. There are about 10 of these graphs and they emerge from oil cans.

‘An artist residency offers a unique source of inspiration – time alone and distance away.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Early influences

My mother taught me to sew. When I was in my early teens, she let me choose the fabric so I could sew my own clothes. I still remember my favourite yellow dress.

Back then, sewing clothes wasn’t unusual and a home economics sewing class was part of the girls’ middle school curriculum.

In the 1950s my parents were briefly medical missionaries before settling in Chicago. However, the urge to help people in Africa never left my Dad. I was a junior in high school when our family moved to Kinshasa (now in the Democratic Republic of the Congo).

Dad established an anaesthesia programme at the Lovanium University. Poverty and power imbalances were everywhere, and Zaire (as it was then) was part of the Cold War power balance.

‘The legacy of colonialism contributed to my interest in human rights issues, treaties and war casualties, which has come out in my work throughout the years.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

I didn’t sew again until I was pregnant and wanted to make maternity clothes and baby clothes. We were living in Tallahassee. I was working part time and also at a traditional quilt shop. There I fell under the spell of the beautiful cotton fabrics.

I joined a quilt guild, and they really encouraged my first wall hanging of the Chicago skyline. My kids were little and I used to furiously work for several hours after they went to bed.

Early works

About 30 years ago a close friend died of breast cancer. This prompted me to make what I call my ‘bra’ quilt. I used de-wired bras, my friend’s poetry and news articles about breast cancer, which I transferred to fabric and integrated with the bras.

My friend’s poems about her experiences with isolation due to the ‘c’ word caused me to call this piece Talk to Me.

I used a dye printing technique with dye paper. Talk to Me didn’t get juried into quilt shows initially so I entered it in the Evanston Art Center’s Vicinity show where they hung it as a sculpture in the middle of the room.

I was surprised that the back was showing with the bobbin threads exposed – it looked a little raw, but no one else cared.

This led me to be unconcerned about the backs of my work being covered or having knots and threads.

Artist’s mindset

My first solo show was at ARC Gallery in Chicago (one of the two women-run ‘co-op’ galleries in Chicago) and I called it Political Art Quilts.

The opening was during a huge Chicago snowstorm, but a few people braved it. I learned how to install, make text signage, and publicise my show.

And while this show was up, I received an Illinois Arts Council Individual Artist Grant. This was a pivotal moment for me.

‘I had no formal education in art.

For the first time, I began to think of myself as an artist and enter my work in juried art shows.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Working environment

About 10 years ago, I moved about 400 miles (640 km) north of Chicago, to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Houghton is on the south shore of Lake Superior. I work in a home studio.

One side overlooks the woods where I cross-country ski on winter mornings, the other looks out over the street where I ride my bike. I ski from December through March or half of April since we normally get over five metres (200″) of snowfall. However, recent winters have been very short so I have to ride on an indoor bike most of the winter.

Living in a rural area has been a big adjustment after living in the city, and having the easy friendships, nearby art communities, monthly openings and the variety of art venues on your doorstep. I miss all of that.

‘I use every opportunity to see art exhibitions when I’m travelling, and I try to connect with other communities of artists.’

Bonnie Peterson, Textile artist

Guiding principles

The twists and turns in my work have always eluded my ability to predict a direction, and that’s what makes life interesting.

I look at as much art as possible, whether or not it has textile content. I use travel as a way to expand my geographic reach and exposure to more art. I recently visited Japan and that’s given me lots of inspiration.

It’s good to seek out an artist community. Look for studio tours and speak with the artists. When I was starting out exhibiting my work I belonged to a critique group of fibre artists. I was inspired to make work for the monthly meeting deadline. The structure of critical sharing was also helpful.

I encourage you to follow your intellectual curiosity. I have always been fond of maths, data and graphs and so I combine that with my interest in climate issues. My first subjects were prompted by my interest in the Gulf War and family issues – marriage, children and divorce. I am deeply committed to environmental data, policy and justice issues and I expect to continue with this theme.

Andy Warhol’s famous quote could be straight out of the mouth of Lauren Austin. Perhaps all true artists simply love making art for art’s sake.

Lauren began making quilts with her family at the age of seven and continued throughout her adult life whenever she could, in her spare time. After working as a computer consultant and then attending law school, she became a human rights lawyer and lecturer.

But one day, when she found herself thinking about fabric colour-matching while teaching her law students, she realised she couldn’t lead two lives.

A timely invitation to submit a quilt for a big show was the catalyst she needed to switch careers.

Today, Lauren is known for her quilts honouring her ancestors, family and friends. Along the way, she’s broken boundaries, fostering an unconventional array of techniques not usually associated with quilting, including stone lithography and beading.

All of which results in unique, effervescent works that speak to her life as an African American female artist. We delve into how Lauren manages a full-time career working on her art quilts – all from her apartment in Florida, USA.

Making quilting a priority

Lauren Austin: I call myself a ‘quiltist’, by which I mean a quilt artist, but I’m also a storyteller and instructor.

I use family photos and my hand-dyed, printed and painted fabric to make quilts and prints about my life as an African American woman artist, and about my obsessions with birds and leaves.

“Quilts are how I honour my ancestors, my family and friends. Making quilts keeps me alert, active and interacting with the world.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

A variety of different art methods add design and interest to my work, including raku-fired ceramic masks, retro photochemical processes like cyanoprint, and etching and burning fabric to create complex surface design.

Until 2004, I worked in other jobs, as a US foreign service officer, computer consultant and later as a human rights lawyer. While working in those jobs I made quilts at night and on the weekends.

That year I had an epiphany. I was explaining a law term to a group of students, while at the same time, my mind was on my art. I was thinking ‘Yellow next to magenta is so sparkly, how is that possible?’. It was like I was two people in one – I found myself thinking this can’t go on.

Soon after that, the curator, artist and founder of the Women of Color Quilters Network (WCQN), Dr Carolyn Mazloomi, called me. She was putting together a big show called Threads of Faith and invited me to contribute a quilt.

I hadn’t made a quilt in two or three years. I put my head on my desk and cried. An opportunity appeared, but I had nothing made.

I went home and told my husband. He said (or rather I heard): ‘You have to give it up, it’s too hard’. That’s the only time I considered divorce.

GIVE UP QUILTING??!! My husband stopped me and said no, it was time to stop that other stuff and just do the quilting. He is the best husband.

“I took my husband’s advice, quit my job and went to quilting full-time. It was hard – I had to hunt down teaching art gigs and commissions, but it was the best thing I ever did.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

Right now, I live and work with my husband in an apartment that is three-parts studio and one-part living space in Maitland, Florida, outside of Orlando. I work nine to five and treat my art quilt practice as a career.

I like working at home. It saves money, and it’s great to have all my tools and supplies available 24/7. One bedroom is a work area for linoleum and woodblock carving, and the other is a bedroom and living room. I have a longarm machine, two other sewing machines and several large design walls.

I’m lucky to have a life partner who is happy with this arrangement. By living within the workspace, I’m able to sit with my experiments and tweak them constantly. It’s a good setup for me. We have a nice, screened porch with plants and a lake at the back with birds, frogs and the occasional alligator.

My learning legacy

My mother, Elizabeth R Turner, was a lifelong learner and reader. My mother’s people were teachers. My maternal grandmother was one of the first black librarians in Chicago. My legacy from all of them is to learn new things all the time, forever.

My mother’s response to any idea or question I had was: ‘There’s a book in the library to help you do what you want to do’, and we would go to the library to find it. Searching for information and experimenting became second nature in life and in art. It brought me deep into quilting at a young age, leading to the creation of my first quilt.

“This philosophy of lifelong learning led me to see how different art-making ways could be used on fabric and incorporated in quilts.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I was also greatly influenced by the group of textile artists that were my mother’s friends. These women came to our house every Tuesday evening to sew or make crafts together. Each one worked on her own projects, and sometimes they worked on a project together.

They told stories, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company while making things. The feeling of touching fabric and sharing friendship are intertwined for me.

Kindness of teachers

Artistic development happens in many ways. No one approach has ever been enough for me. I was lucky to find people who were generous in giving their time, willing to share their skills if I wanted to learn, yet be open to applying their techniques to fabric.

I always found teachers who were strong and comfortable in their own art, so they didn’t want to change my aesthetic or force me to make exactly what they made.

For example, I learned the stone lithography printing technique from Charles Criner, who had only ever made prints on paper. This was during a hard time in my life. My husband was sick, and the printmaking was a respite from caregiving. Charles made sure that I didn’t have to worry about paper or tools and often bought me lunch at a time when I didn’t have money to spare.

“Charles never told me what to make. I am ever grateful for his kindness and for giving me the opportunity to learn. This is what art experiments can do.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I made many drawings and prints in his studio, amassing a pile of paper prints that I liked, but with no idea how to use them. I asked Charles if I could print on fabric. Even though he’d never done so, he was open to the experiment and pleased with my results.

He had a more traditional view of quilts but came around to my way of making because of our work together. Even though his drawings and paintings had a similar background – black life and black history – they were very different from mine.

I’m also proud of the five years I spent living in Ningbo and Shanghai, China, working with other artists, learning about Chinese textile work, and experimenting with screen printing and dye painting on fabric.

I learned to make traditional Chinese baby shoes from a friend’s mother – she spoke no English and I spoke no Chinese. With patience, gestures, laughter and good strong tea, I spent several months of Saturdays sewing shoes for my first granddaughter.

Stitching black history

When I started out, I made a lot of quilts with images of African American history.

I’ve been a longtime member of the WCQN. Dr Mazloomi puts out a call for work on a certain topic and the artists respond to the topic. Her show and book And Still We Rise was a timeline of African American history from 1619 to the present, and for this exhibition, I made two pieces about Florida’s Black history.

His Instruments of Justice was about Harry T Moore, of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), who was murdered because of his work advocating for black people.

We Hid in the Woods and the Swamp was about the Rosewood massacre in 1923. I suggested Rosewood and Harry T Moore as subjects because Florida’s Black history is so complicated and mostly unknown. His Instruments of Justice is now in the collection of the Smithsonian Museum of American Art/Renwick Gallery.

I made these pieces while living in Shanghai and feeling homesick for Florida Black life. Making the pieces was a great way to stay close to my people, and to show my friends in my new home what my culture and history were about.

Sharing my work prompted my studio mate, Nini Sun, to ask me what I would make if I just made the art in my head, without a purpose in mind. It was an amazing ‘aha’ moment and unleashed a flurry of art-making that has been with me ever since.

I still make themed work – there are too many historic and important stories about black people all over the world that call to me to make something – but I now listen to my inner voice much more than ever.

“I want people to see the diversity of my experience as a black woman: that I have many facets that make up ‘me’.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I think of my work as very personal self-expression. It isn’t theory or experimentation for the sake of saying ‘I can do this’. The processes serve to explore and show who I am now and how I got to this place.

Family stories

Idea development is both planned and intuitive. I work with issues I’m obsessed with – maybe a current event, maybe a deep dive into my feelings about something or someone.

For many years I’ve made pieces using my family photos going back seven generations but, as I age, it becomes more urgent that I make more, to be sure my descendants will understand who I was when I’m not here anymore.

I love making work about my family because they can give me a true response to my choices and how the work fits with their recollections. I sent photos of Beth’s Indoor Garden to my cousin while I was working on it. I didn’t say what it was about, or anything other than look what I’m working on!

I made the original sketches with a particular photo of my mom in mind where she is sitting at her dining room table with her cat, surrounded by her favourite potted plants. I thought I was done with the piece – that’s the point I usually show work to someone else.

My cousin looked at it and said: ‘That’s Aunt Beth! Excellent! Where’s the crossword puzzle?’. I just laughed! It’s such a joy when people recognise what you’re aiming for. Most of the time they will add something I hadn’t thought of, and that’s what happened here.

My mom always did the New York Times’ crossword puzzle at that table. I was able to go back and add a folded crossword puzzle page, and the work was complete.

My People: All Who Wander are not Lost was made as a memorial to my sister’s friend Susanne Davis, for her son Steven. Steven found the quilt top in her effects after she passed away. Susanne had dyed the fabric, Steven gave it to me and I quilted it for him.

Nature inspirations

In Mr Turner’s Dragons, I made a woodcut carving of my maternal grandfather, Alexander Laurent Turner. I’ve been looking at this photo and frame since I was small.

It sits on my ancestor altar in my home. I made a woodcut of the photo, with plans to print it on paper and fabric.

I also focus on nature and combine this with my family work. I spend time photographing plants for reference material and drawing objects and people that might go into a piece someday.

I like using printmaking and dyeing fabric in support of this. Experimenting with the process gives me natural looking palettes and imagery, which then becomes a piece about my mother and her potted plants, such as in Beth’s Indoor Garden, or my father’s sister in her prom dress in an abstract forest that became Queen of the Forest.

I’m always researching black history for new material – stories about black people in nature are particularly important these days. For example, I once spent the day in a gun shop drawing an antique gun of the make used by the Buffalo Soldiers, the black soldiers who made up the 9th and 10th Cavalry Regiments.

This drawing became a pattern for the pistol in View from a Camp Table, a still life about the Buffalo Soldiers. This work is now in the collection of The James Museum of Western & Wildlife Art in St Petersburg, Florida.

Sketch to stitch

I draw in a sketchbook all the time. Some sketches turn into quilts, either by scanning the drawing and printing it on fabric; by making a woodblock carving of the image that is printed on fabric; or fashioning a large scale figurative piece that starts from the sketch.

I started out hand piecing and quilting. I hand stitched many quilts, including king size quilts for my family. Now, I mostly use the machine for quilting because I do so many layers, and need the speed and efficiency to get through all the fabric I’m sewing.

I still use hand quilting and hand embroidery in my work. I love the textures created by handwork. Hand beading is really where I put in hundreds of hours. All the beading you see in my work is hand sewn by me. Beading is soothing and magical.

I use glow in the dark beads a lot. I can take it anywhere – doctors’ offices, gatherings – wherever I am I have a little bag with hand sewing, embroidery and beading supplies.

In my figurative work, I will start out drawing a large-scale image on a wall sized piece of paper. I like the images created this way – I must use my whole body to draw, not just my wrist and hand. My back, shoulders and whole arm are involved, and the lines are big, sweeping gestures.

When I have an image I like, I cut the paper into the shapes I’ve created and use these as patterns for the fabric. I sew the parts as mini quilts, the arms and legs, the faces, and then appliqué them to my background.

I may quilt the background first and then appliqué the figures on top, or I may save the quilting for last. Embellishments are usually added at the end – beading, couching and small 3D pieces that can stick out from the picture plane.

Artmaking for me is more than ‘sketch it out and reproduce the sketch’.

“I deliberately give myself time to respond to what I’ve made so far, and things then change within the piece. The result will be better than the original sketch or thought.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I trust my process. I also understand that the work will never look like it does inside my head, and I’ve learned to accept that fact and be happy with the outcome.

Favourite materials

I love mixing dyes and experiencing the surprise of colour when the final work is removed from the washer or dryer and the tie dye is unbundled. It probably won’t be what I envisioned, but that’s a good thing.

I have to work with what I have. Everything can be overdyed or overprinted to add more texture, more interest and to be useful – if not in this piece, then in future work.

I have a huge stash of fabric, mostly West African prints and my own hand dyed yardage. I also like vintage dress fabrics, especially silk and handmade lace. I know I can make more yardage in any shade I need, though I first try to use what I have. Okay, it’s an aspiration!

I buy white PFD (prepared for dyeing) yardage and fibre reactive dyes from Dharma Trading. Most of my threads come from Superior Threads and I use Warm Company’s Warm & White Batting that I buy by the bolt.

These suppliers have come through with quality goods for me for over 20 years, so I stray very little from what they make. I’ll try something new, but these are the ones I count on for my day-to-day work.

Make time for your art

I would say to any would-be artists, believe in yourself. Trust yourself. Listen to your heart. Critique yourself but be kind to yourself.

“Make work that comes out of your head. Don’t worry about the message – just make it!”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist

I have worked for a long time in the arts, and I still get ‘suggestions’ from others – what to make, how to market, all sorts of unsolicited ideas from people who make art and from those who do not.

I listen and then mostly ignore what people tell me. I know what I need to do: I just must make time to do it.

When I trusted myself to know what I needed to do, say sketching in public while on the subway, I became braver than I had been before. It ceased being important how people reacted to the work or to me, and became more about concentrating on what I was learning from teaching myself.

This is how I develop, change what I do and still stay true to my vision and to who I am. Aspiring artists, this approach will work for you!

“Caring less about what people think means I can experiment more, learn more, and come up with new ideas and work.”

Lauren Austin, Quiltist