So it’s been a few weeks since I began this story of quilt making.  I feel quite nervous to be talking about these quilts with an audience, having spent so much time working on them, worrying over them and fretting in general.  I wrote the story below earlier in the year, when I was getting ready for Domestic Frontier, where this quilt made it’s debut.

The design of this quilt is inspired by early American quilting and also Native American textiles. My father’s mother immigrated to Australia from America in 1943 and my father and his brothers and sisters will swear up and down that we have Native American Sioux heritage. Looking at old photos of my grandmother it certainly seems possible and I am quite fascinated by this idea and I hope to explore it further in my designs. I am yet to visit the part of America my grandmother came from, but I’ve spent a little time in the states, and it is one of those places I find myself impossibly drawn to. It was in the US that I first realised my love of mountains; after years of tuning out when my father talked endlessly about his mountain climbing days.

The flying geese quilt block is speculated to have been used as code by slaves during the civil war, as a reminder to follow the geese north in the summertime and escape their bondage. Whether this is true or not, the triangle feels to me to be a symbol of both freedom and safety, it is geese with their wings spread, it is mountains reaching for the stars and it is the arrowheads used to hunt food and fend off predators.

I chose to dye this quilt with Indigo and Fustic, because one, they look great together, but also because they ground each other. They are the earth and the sky and in different lights they take turns on being both strong and gentle. A lioness and her cub. I feel like this quilt is a protector, it seems like a kind of armour and I imagine it keeping it’s owner safe and warm.

I do design both a front and a back before I begin the dye work for my quilt, and my favourite moment of this quilt is actually found on the back. Tiny variations flitter like dappled sunlight in the fustic dyed cotton and it makes me think of hot summer days, lying in the shade next to a lake, listening to the sounds of the bush.

This quilt was created over a period of 6 weeks from June 12, 2014 to July 31st 2014. It is the result of 26 hours of designing, dyeing, sewing, ironing, washing, and quilting. It is not perfect, but it is just right.

Happily this quilt has found it’s home. And even more happily it is going to a FAMILY. Just as I imagined it would. It really does bring tears to my eyes to know it will be loved well.

Photos in this post taken by Lillie Thompson.

Fustic and Indigo green is The Best. This shade of green makes me slap my face a la Macaulay Caulkin and rather than scream, I kind of just go “eughaaargh” and make other nonsense noises because words just cannot explain how good it is.

Growing up in Australia I’m used to seeing stereotypical images of our bush (that’s Aussie for forest for any international readers), the ones where the ground is brown, the tree is brown, and the leaves are a dull greenish silver, or just army green. It does have it’s beauty and if you’re an art fan, please go look up John Glover. He’ll make you slap your face a la Macaulay as well.

For most of my life I have always found green rather boring, unless it was a beautiful foreign forest green, the kind I have never seen a great deal of living here. So imagine my incredible delight when I thought to myself “perhaps I will try a green” and stumbled upon this loveliness. Since I have it has opened my eyes to it in the Australian landscape too. Now I see it everywhere. It flashes out at me like little emerald gems that were once secreted away because to see them always would tarnish their beauty.

I know I say this about every colour, but I think it’s my favourite. It is however a harder colour to achieve. Well, it’s not really hard per say, it’s just that it takes longer to achieve, because you have to dye your textile twice. In the world of natural dyes that means in whatever order you choose to work, you effectively dye your work three times, because fustic requires a mordant first. If you want to do it on cotton, it means 3 mordants and 2 dye jobs! That is just crazy, what kind of lunatic would spend that much time dyeing something?

Me.

I have never been a yellow person. It is just NOT my colour. If I try to wear something yellow, I look hideously ill, it’s terribly unbecoming. That was however, until I discovered Fustic.

My experience with fustic has given me astoundingly beautiful mustard tones of yellow, which deepen in shade quite quickly depending on the amount of dye used. It’s a very economical dye, a little goes a long way. It is another dye I enjoy the smell of, it’s hard to describe, but the word that springs to mind first is sticky. Which is fitting, because it does create a rather sticky goo when you first add water to it. So it has a sticky tannin smell. Maybe a bit like old dried cow dung? That sounds unpleasant and I’m sure my husband thinks it reeks horribly, but once again I do not. The smell of cows and dirt and grass and trees with a hint of woodsmoke? Maybe none, or all of those things! I shall leave that up to you to decide if you try dyeing with it.

Fustic works well on all the fibres I have tried. It gives a brighter yellow on alpaca, a bright chartreuse I would call it, and a mustard on merino.  It also gives a mustard on cotton, and like all natural dyes, changes depending on the light. Fustic has that lovely glow that all natural dyes in my experience have. Synthetic dyes just can’t beat it.

Fustic has good to excellent wash and light fastness on protein fibres, and seems to be doing well on my cotton too.

Last, but not least, when you marry fustic to indigo, you get a beautiful green offspring that is so green, even pine trees get jealous. I’ll be blogging that love story soon.