Interesting how place can affect the quilts that I make. When I lost my studio, I was fortunate enough to find a space I could rent across the river. It too had large windows and high ceilings. There was a charm about the building. However the view was different. This time when I looked out the window I saw the geometry of the Iron Bridge. Beautiful in its own right but splitting the sky into brief snippets of blue. The train whistle was more distant but I could see the might as the gate came down and it roared through town.

My life too was different. I could see the hole where my studio had been.  I could feel its absence every day. And yet in order to go on, I needed to divide my life into sections just like the Iron Bridge did. I needed the calm certainty of sewing and creating. One seam after the other. What more could I learn from the log cabin pattern? How much further could I push it? The "hearth" or center of the block offering a hope against the lines of the steps. Methodical meditative work.

Am I over-writing this description? Probably. But that was the origin of my quilt--visions. Yes, it was quilt as you go for those who want to be technical with all the threads tied off. Picky absorbing work. What more can I say?

visions--38x38"--quilt--Ann Brauer--image by John Polak

detail--visions--quilt--Ann Brauer

I remember once years ago. I was at a craft show. The potter next to me was constantly talking to customers. "What was his secret?" I asked when he had a spare moment. Finding time was not an issue for me.

His answer was simple--"Don't say no right away. Listen to the suggestions of the customer. Draw them out. See if it is something you can do. Maybe you will learn something. Maybe you will get an order. At least you are talking with people."

Sure there are times that it doesn't work. There are items I know I don't want to make. Been there. Done that. Too much work for what I will get. Not my style.

But other times, it can lead me down a new path. Help me expand my quilts in new directions. Push me in ways I would not have thought possible. It happened recently at a show. A woman was looking for a head board for her bed. She wanted something long and horizontal and fell in love with this runner.

geometric table runner--12x40"--Ann Brauer

Of course the colors were wrong. She needed it longer. Six feet to be precise. And she needed it to match the colors in her room. I sent her a bunch of fabrics which she played with until midnight one day. Then she asked for more fabrics and played with those until she got just the colors she wanted for the central stripe. When I saw them, my eyebrows silently raised. But still I smiled.

Now this was also a design I continued to play with. I added colors and more dimension around the outside. But she had not seen those. The yellow with the shades of grey.

black, white and yellow table runner--12x40"--Ann Brauer

The plum and green.

plum and green table runner--12x40"--Ann Brauer

She had not seen these. Clearly she had a design in her mind. I must make her what she saw. What she imagines. It will be hanging over her bed after all.

I started sewing. How long and thin those first little bits of yellow were. How would they stand up to the design. Would they be lost in the black and white?

table runner--Ann Brauer--2014

Would the colors she had surrounding the yellow be too busy? These were not my choice but I could see how she wanted to encapsulate the yellow so I added them.

table runner--Ann Brauer--2014

Should the black and white be almost random as they were in the original or should I keep the colors constant? I thought about it. Decided that as in the original I would make them almost random although I would not break up the colors for the long rows.

The gist of this runner is patterns that resolve into a whole. There is an element of trust that the process in the end will work. And meanwhile there is lots and lots of sewing.

table runner--12x72 inches--Ann Brauer

On and on. And on.

table runner--Ann Brauer--2014

 Until finally the whole begins to emerge.

table runner--12x72"--Ann Brauer

Finally today I finish. Hmm. Interesting. There is a possibility that interests me. So simple and yet complex at the same time. The yellow really did work. The designs do peak through in the fabric.

table runner--12x72 inches--Ann Brauer

What a statement it makes. Now I can't wait to finish it.  What a great idea she had. How I want to make another just to have it. Play with the concept. Explore the possibilities.

Yes, I am glad I listened. Does this ever happen to you? Do you find it hard to listen? To decide if it is a project that interests you? What have you learned?

OK world--did you hear me? I thought I explicitly promised myself that I would NOT do technical work again. No more traditional patterns. After all I make art quilts, right? And I am tired of sewing straight lines. Or rather since I have been sewing a lot of straight lines recently I am tired of following patterns where the work has to be exact.

Been there. Done that. Isn't it more fun to choose each fabric as I sew. Get into that groove. Isn't that what it is all about?

But what happens when I see in my mind's eye something new I just have to make? I try it--of course. And I like it. There is something with the regularity and the precision that I just have to go for even if it is the log cabin pattern and even if I do all the work free hand so it really is not that precise.

I mean look at that pattern. Simple. But such dimension. There is a space there. A story in its regularity.

black white and red runner--12x40 inches--Ann Brauer

Or here--such a feeling light and depth. The window promises something. Isn't that all I can ask for?

plum runner--12x40 inches--Ann Brauer

Or here.

visions of light--38x38 inches--Ann Brauer

I play some more on the design board. Pin it up. It doesn't have to be perfect. I just want to see it.

design board--Ann Brauer

Do I really want to go there? Isn't it going to drive me crazy? But wouldn't it be perfect as a table runner in a modern home? What about a headboard over the bed?

No time like the present. After all if you are super busy--why waste time wondering if you are going to make the quilt. Just do it.

I cut the fabric for the yellow centers. I think I prefer the brighter yellow. More like sunshine isn't it?


I plan the colors of the outside. The colors of autumn.


And start to sew.


Will it work? Is this a waste of time? Will it drive me crazy?  I haven't made enough to know for sure.


Making two does take almost twice as long. Like duh?



But I keep going. And going and going. Now at least it takes some of the form I want.


Finally I can play.  Interesting but too expected. This was not what I intended in the first place but I wanted to see it.


OK--more like it.
And now to sew on the binding, A quilt maker's work is never done, is it?


Not bad though. I think I can get it done before Paradise City this week-end. Was it worth it? Can I make more? Is it more or less technical than the flowing river runner next to it? But that is another story. Argh!!! For another day and another blog. Meanwhile I hope I will see some of you at Paradise City at the Tri-County Fairgrounds in Northampton October 11-13. For more info www.paradisecityarts.com or maybe the Philadelphia Museum of Art Craft Show November 6-9 at the Philadelphia Convention Center. www.pmacraftshow.org

I remember a conversation with an older woman a few years ago. "What was life like," I asked. "Do you now know who you are and what you are doing?" I continue.

The answer was short and sweet and stuck with me.

"The questions have changed but they are still needing to be answered," she replied.

How true I thought.

Yes, I recently celebrated my 32nd year in business as a quiltmaker. Time for a bit of nostalgia. So, for those who are curious, here are a few of my early quilts. Yes, you can see the log cabin influence. They were all quilt as you go onto a muslin backing. The blocks sewn together and then a polyester batting. The quilts were then tied. These were meant to be used on beds. I do hope you enjoy. If you want to see more, I have a book with some early images that I will bring to my studio in Shelburne Falls and I will try to post occasionally for my loyal readers. These photographs were by Tommy Elder. I hope you enjoy.

The first is a simple log cabin but the colors are changing both on the top layer and the bottom lighter colors. Each block was made knowing exactly where it went on the quilt.

log cabin quilt--early--Ann Brauer

Another basic log cabin with a slightly more complex pattern. Again notice the color changes. These quilts with a couple more variations got me into every single craft show I applied to. If only life were that easy now...sigh!!!

two diamonds--quilt--Ann Brauer

Of course soon I had said everything I had to say using variations on this theme so I had to change the size of the blocks to add further interest. Yes the size of the lighter strips were narrower than the darker strips.

straight furrows--quilt--Ann Brauer

And sometimes I had to just let myself play. This was a quilt that I had lots of fun with but never really figured out all of its secrets. I owned this piece for some period of time until finally it sold in San Francisco.

river--quilt--Ann Brauer

And yet there was something about this quilt that continued to haunt me. Here is a close-up of my quilt--rivers of autumn. Do you see the similarities?

rivers of autumn--detail--quilt--Ann Brauer

So what do you think? How has your work changed? What questions remain the same? Do you study older works or tend to put them aside for a while and let the work take hold?

OK--I admit it. I have had it with the movie folks in Shelburne Falls. I could go on. Even be an old curmudgeon about the whole thing.

But it did get me to thinking about what my quilts looked like in the '80's. After all I moved to Shelburne Falls and became a quilt maker in 1981. Back then Shelburne Falls had a movie theater--above McCusker's. We had an artist co-op in one of the long narrow buildings on the south side of Bridge Street. Village Variety. May it rest in peace. And the Food Locker--now Keystone. Also a couple of auto dealerships--one became a bank.  Larry's--how can one forget Larry's/ And two clothing stores that my mom loved. I never shopped there.

Now I don't have all the images of my quilts from back then but here are a few.

As you can tell, I loved the log cabin pattern. Also loved color changes. These were all quilted onto muslin with a polyester batting that was tied in place.

Not to brag, but I remember the first time I did the Smithsonian Craft Show. It was in the Justice Building back then. I had a roommate for the show who made wearable clothing. She was related to someone famous--I forget whom. But every evening she would sit and count her money on the bed. I sold nothing until Saturday night at five when all of a sudden three quilts sold. On Sunday afternoon, I sold out between the hours of four and five. People actually were fighting over my quilts.

Those were the days I guess.

Here are a couple of my early quilts.  Can you see the similarity between them and my current work? This was back when I would get into both the Smithsonian and Philadelphia Craft Shows--of course.



Bet the movie folks don't have anything half as nice to hang in front of my studio tomorrow. But then Shelburne Falls never really was the depressed back water they are trying to make us out to be. And we really and truly did have a drive-in and it was GREAT. Just saying.

I've been a lot of thinking today about the process of finishing. Rereading my well worn copy of Anne Truitt's Daybook--wonderful book--hard to read the whole thing at once-- she talks about the energy requiring for the final push to bring a piece to completion. The exhilaration and also the slight sorrow that happens when art is out into the larger world-- on its own--separate from me, the artist. Will it work? What will the others say about it?

Let me try to tie a few thoughts together about finishing.

First the weather--isn't this what spring is all about? March in New England. Still patches of snow. The lawn that drab brown color--you know it--before the little hints of green start showing. Only a few lonely crocuses taunt us with the promise of color. Don't tell me that April is the cruelest month!




And the quilt, right now the quilt and I are having what I might call a "dialogue" in polite society.  I'm forced to wait anyhow--a Boston TV station wants to see a quilt in progress. 15 seconds of fame. They wouldn't understand that pacing or thinking or staring is part of the process. So I leave the quilt almost done on the design board. And begin the tension mounts? Will the quilt work?




Are the darker colors of the quilt at the bottom of each zig the key--or do they distract?  I go over and over in my mind's eye. Maybe.... If only.... The genesis of new quilts is here.




But in the end I won't know until I sew it all together. So for now I wait. And worry.

This takes me to a quilt I've been thinking about.  I know I was meant to have this piece even though I don't know who did it or why. Let me begin...

But first I must tell you a bit about my aunt. Now I don't know my aunt as well as I'd like though she was my mom's older sister. My first memory ever--I was 2 1/2-- was of sitting at the top of her long staircase--she lived on the second floor. My little red suitcase was all packed. And I wanted to go home. Now!!! There was no way I could understand that I was going to get a new baby sister--I wanted to be home!!  Not a good way to start a relationship with an aunt whom I didn't see that much anyway.


Two husbands. Two divorces. For years she ran a dress shop in her town--it kept her very busy. Then there was golf, bridge until her mid 90's, her son, church. Her friends. She was always involved.  After my mom died,  I learned that if I wrote her, she'd answer me--asking questions about business, art, life.  As my sister says, she had SPUNK.

Now my aunt didn't make this quilt--she was a painter. Actually she was pretty good. She'd studied at the Art Institute of Chicago. She even sold some of her paintings. But sometime in the 50's an older friend of hers had given her this quilt. She wrote me that.  Why the friend had given her the quilt--I have no idea. It had belonged to the friend's mother--or maybe her grandmother--my aunt wasn't sure. My aunt wasn't meant to finish it--that much I know--but it was too precious to throw away.  So it sat in my aunt's trunk until 2004 when she saw an episode of Antiques Roadshow and thought it might have some value. I was the quilt maker in the family. So I got it.




Clearly it was Victorian--a log cabin pattern done in silk. Lots of detail and a spontaneity about the use of the colors. Tiny pieces--the whole quilt only about 24x36 inches. All hand sewn. The centers--or chimneys as they are called--all maroon.




What did the quilt maker dream of when she started the quilt? A cover for her wedding bed? A throw in the parlor?  Or was it something she started because that's what her friends were doing?  All I know is she made some blocks, starting sewing it together, and then stopped. The blocks not all sewn together.




Big basting stitches still there.

Why? Was it love? A change in circumstances? Or was she just discouraged? Afraid to finish it.  Did she think of it later, pull it out and start to sew it again? Clearly it was important to her. She kept it, passed it down, her daughter--or was it her granddaughter--passed it on to my aunt--who also kept it.

And maybe that is all that is needed. The quilt does tell a story--we just have to write it. As to my aunt--her life too is almost finished. Last fall she finally moved out of her walk-up apartment with the long staircase I stared down. She will turn 99 on Wednesday--won't turn 100. But with such grace and acceptance. This is life, she writes in very shaky letters. A good life. Wonderful memories. Can't complain. Hospice comes often.

As to the quilt I am working on--perhaps another row while I wait for the TV cameras. Maybe that will finish it. Make it complete.

So when do you know a piece is complete? Are you just a bit sad? What are your memories? And when will I finish this quilt?