Patchwork Object

Items

• Patch by Christine
  For this quilt project, the quilt square that I made uses a fabric with an ambigram printed on it that when viewed from one way says Save Me and when flipped upside down says I’m Fine. The origin of this ambigram is a depression and suicide prevention campaign by an organization called the Samaritans of Singapore to highlight to subtlety of depression and how people will sometimes use the words I’m fine to mask their true feelings. This ambigram gained recognition when a young girl named Bekah Miles got it as a tattoo on her leg and posted it on social media. The tattoo read I’m Fine to those looking at her but from her vantage point viewing it upside down read Save Me. This girl’s poignant social media post sparked a nationwide conversation on depression. (https://www.facebook.com/remiles14/posts/10207864868406352) I actually did not see that campaign or the subsequent social media post. I came upon this powerful ambigram through my favorite musical group BTS. BTS have 2 songs; Save Me from their album The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Young Forever and I’m Fine from Love Yourself: Answer. These 2 songs so perfectly capture the essence of this campaign. BTS are able to lyrically capture this complex dynamic of calling out for help in Save Me and then bringing the listener to realize that you are the only one that can truly save yourself. I’m Fine offers the perspective that as long as you are breathing then there is hope. The lyrics are not about denying pain, it’s about acknowledging it and pushing past it –through lyrical juxtaposing moments of despair with vows of fine-ness, the song exposes the common defense mechanism of presenting a façade of strength when one is anything but fine. This ambigram and these songs have had a significant impact on me and the way I think about my own struggles and outlook. The music gave me tools I didn’t even realize I needed to help pull myself up and out of negative thinking. It has also made me more aware and more alert to look beyond the surface of what others say to me which has been impactful in my practice as a nurse. I hope by using this fabric and through this quilt project, I can add my own creative contribution to raising awareness to this campaign.
• Patch by Claire
  As an experienced Architect, Associate lecturer and designer-maker of concept jewellery and handheld objects, I have been creating uniquely expressive statement pieces exploring materiality for a number of years, however it is only in the last five years that I have begun to understand that a major driving force for my creativity is my thirst for new knowledge. Recognising this has led me to explore the potential for design as a research tool, undertaking a practice as research PhD at the University of the West of England. This patchwork represents my PhD research project “Ply Could?” which explores the potential of thin plywood, as a sustainable material for making. Combining tradition craft practices with digital making techniques, I am pushing the material to its limits and exploring its material affordance. By means of craft based creative enquiry and research by design, can the exploration of novel material affordances uncover new opportunities for the use of thin plywood? Plywood is a natural material, strong, lightweight, and extremely versatile. Its method of construction, layering alternate veneers perpendicularly, makes it immensely strong for its size, and reduces the likelihood of shrinkage and warping when exposed to variations in environmental conditions. Despite the recent increase in use of plywood as a sustainable alternative in construction, it is currently little-used on a small scale. The embodied carbon value for plywood is a fraction of that for plastics and metals. Plywood can be softened and moulded into complex three-dimensional forms, providing increased strength, much like in an eggshell, resulting in good economy of material. By working on a small scale (using 0.8mm and 1.5mm thick sheet) it is possible to push the material to its limits, activating it using moisture, heat and pressure and utilising 3D printed formers to set it into complex shapes.
• Patch by Clare
  I wanted to highlight repair as a creative and radical act. My square uses recycled fabrics and darning, patching, and seaming.
• Patch by Clare
  The notion of permission has kept coming up in conversation recently. Permission to let ourselves do things, permission to be creative, permission to be ourselves. How - and when - did it happen that we stopped feeling like we could do anything we pleased? I find that within stitching I'm able to offer myself a particular sort of freedom. I'm able to do work on my terms, without compromise or apology. I'm never going to be a precise stitcher of the School of Needlework mould, astonishing as their output is; instead, the act of working with needle and thread allows me to shrug of others' rules and to create my own. I find a more strident voice within myself, more prepared to assert my beliefs and mercifully less afraid of causing offense. The stitches I make can form, and mend, and expose. They can be unpicked or reinforced, made overt or rendered invisible, but each connection, mark made, or trace left, offers an assertion of a stitcher's presence. It can be easy for onlookers to dismiss stitching as somehow innocuous; however, in considering these processes in terms of marking and assembly, I suggest that stitching offers evidence of the ways in which I construct a space in the world not only for my work, but also for myself.
• Patch by Corinna
  This multi-layered patch is made of silk, cotton, photographic transparency film, and beeswax, based on a photograph I made of a forest in Cypress Hills, Saskatchewan, Canada. In many ways, it’s an ecological battleground. Here, trembling aspen, balsam poplar, white spruce, and lodgepole pine invade the grasslands, while trees are threatened by invasive species like dwarf mistletoe. Fire destroys, yet it increases plant diversity, attracts bees, and allows the lodgepole pine to reseed by melting the resin that seals its cones. So, the forest raises questions around terms like native and invasive, parasitism and mutualism.
• Patch by Corinna
  I made a cyanotype print of this Victorian carte de viste of a woman with dog. She looked familiar, and I thought she might be a writer. An image search brought up hundreds of images of Victorian and Edwardian women and their beloved dogs, including a grainy photograph of an American writer, Louise Clarke Pyrnelle, whose dog bore some resemblance to this one. But, no, the women’s faces are too different. So, while the mystery remains, I have enjoyed seeing all the pugs, Chihuahuas, Pomeranians and mutts of all descriptions captured in photographs with their dogmoms. I once explored an abandoned grand mansion in the Scottish Highlands. The decaying house was glorious but empty, so I gathered little knowledge about its previous occupants. On my way out of the grounds, through dense woods, I stubbed my toe, hard, on a boulder at the base of a huge old oak. I crouched down, pushed aside ferns, and found a memorial to two obviously beloved dogs, Brua and Tappie, who had died together in 1932. I felt at once a connection, across time, in an unfamiliar place, with their owner, an unknown woman. Later, I researched the dog’s owner, the former mistress of the house. She was a suffragette, photographer, and a lover of dogs, especially West Highland White Terriers, a breed developed by her ancestors. I think I would have liked her.
• Patch by Daisy
  I started doing tapestry work during the pandemic, partially in order to stop myself doom-scrolling in the evenings, but also because I was recovering from a serious accident at the time and was off-work, very stationary, and needed something to do with my hands while I listened to audiobooks. I really enjoyed it and kept doing it after the pandemic moved out of its acute phase and I became more mobile again, but for this project I wanted to try designing something myself, so I taught myself some free-hand embroidery stitches and bought a book of patterns. I was inspired to do so by hearing Jennie Batchelor talk about her Ladies Magazine website at your workshop! Not at Jennie's standard yet, but Austen-like embroidery is the thing I'll aim for next. Thanks for getting me back into this, and for giving me a reason to try something new!
• Patch by Diana
  I have created a small applique patchwork to represent the connections between my 8 other sewing friends in South Devon. We meet regularly in each others houses to work on our own textile projects and sometimes work collaboratively for a larger project (eg making quilts to be used by the charity Grow for Good at their premises in Sparkwell) or learn from each other a new technique. We knit, we sew, we chat, we laugh, we sometimes cry and we always support and encourage each other. We inspire by our own work or by sharing experiences and other textiles seen around the world. My piece is constructed from scraps from a numberof people, some no longer sewing or even alive. I enjoyed re-purposing even tiny 'crumbs', layering and embroidering. Little is wasted. Some seemingly insignificant scrap can find its place to lift the composition. The overlapping, continuous circles are simple and individual but sewn together they complement each other so as to become part of the bigger picture. Much as we are in life.
• Patch by Diane
  Notpla card from G F Smith is my material of choice due to its sustainability and connection with the seas (it is natural recyclable and biodegradable using by-products from the industrial processing of seaweed). I feel it is representative of my making choices and practice. My making is inspired not only by the sea but also by my people of the sea, the extraordinary women who shaped me. They are my connection to the past, my anchor in the present, and my inspiration for the future. They were jam-makers, cake-bakers, latch hook-rug-makers, salt-dough creators, stitchers, knitters, fixers, menders, pearl-wearers, stortellers, educators and changemakers. My Sea Family by birth. My Sea Sisters by choice. This is a letter of gratitude and love to them. At the edge of the sea, I feel you. In my heart and deep within my soul, calling me home. At the edge of the sea, I hear you. Strains of melodies long forgotten, your voices, your words of ancient wisdom, calling me home. At the edge of the sea, I see you. Reflected in the water, dancing in the waves, calling me home. At the edge of the sea, I find you. Spiritual echoes of my ancestral continuum in the whip of the wind, the crashing of the waves, calling me home. At the edge of the sea, you walk beside me. Tiny gifts of sea pottery appear along my path, guiding me home. At the edge of the sea, you reach out to me. Your hand takes mine when times are tough, guiding me home. When I create, I am never alone. You are always with me, my women of the sea. You are my heart and soul. You are my home. And I am yours. Much love, She of the sea X
• Patch by Elizabeth
  Enjoy the camaraderie and the creative support from making with like minded people, sharing ideas and having fun. Get absorbed in the wonder of nature and using natural elements, to try out eco fabrics and dyes forming new and exciting projects. Have as a result become more confident in my abilities to create.
• Patch by Emma
  A basket of fabrics: fabrics, in particular colourful florals inspire me to sew. The basket holds an assortment of scraps from my dressmaking projects that inspired me to sew something lovely with them - mainly dresses and skirts.
• Patch by Emma
  Japan: a creative person who inspires me to sew. @meddlesome_penguin who travelled to Japan and brought me back this beautiful fabric from her shopping trips there. I used the fabric and a map of Japan to represent her love of Japanese culture.
• Patch by Gail
  My Creative Identity I have made a patch showing a Venn diagram of what I consider has led to me being creative. Did I know I was creative? No. I just do what I can do, what women do. What challenges me and gives gives me pleasure to do, and do well. A label of creative lifts it from Craft to Art giving it credibility. Genes A Paternal Great grandfather a tailor, sitting crossed legged to stitch suits . A Paternal Grandfather an overseer in a mill weaving worsted fabric. A Mother who taught me to knit and sew, I can’t even remember learning it was so long ago. Teaching School needle work, City and Guild embroidery. Devon Weavers Workshop and Sue Dwyer teaching me to weave. Bradford College and a textile design course. Aptitude Able to sit quietly and practice and learn and improve. Opportunity Being in the right place at the right time to see and take advantage of the opportunities, which actually came later than I would have liked. - Patience. Good friends and mentors who have encouraged me.
• Patch by Hannah
  My patch is ridiculous and over the top, and probably a bit naughty as it has tassels that might drape beyond my own patch square, but I guess that is what this patch is about... confidence to be expressive. If you lift the tassel panel it says "Thank you to my mum & my sisters. To Mrs Betton & Jan Ruddock. Tanks to the clothes show & caring Franklin, to Vivene Westwood & Kate Moss ( who I will later regret). Thank you Bjork, Iris and Frida, to Cruella, Roisin, Susie & Gem for inspiring me to express myself."
• Patch by Helen
  Women on both sides of my family have been involved in textiles, either as professional pattern designers and cutters, or in the home, tailoring, quilting, mending and crafting. I inherited all of my grandma’s sewing notions and haberdashery a few years ago. Thousands of pins and packets of needles, lovely thick Sylko threads, lace trims, plastic buttons, remnants of fringing from fancy dress costumes she made for us children, some beautiful and ancient passementerie. Some of it still smells like her sewing room, a sacred space, and I find touching traces of her neatness and practicality in the way she has wound spare threads back on to reels and pinned leftover bias binding around pieces of card. As a child I would pore over her copies of Women’s Weekly magazine and the craft projects inside, pausing to read the personal advice columns, naturally. Grandma was always creating something, and a few unfinished projects remain: a cathedral window patchwork linen cushion cover, hundreds of floral cotton hexagons for English paper piecing, some rather large and bright checkerboard patchwork blocks. I’ll get around to them all. My improv-pieced ‘wildflower meadow’ patch is inspired by all the textile-working women of my family and in particular their domestic sewing and creativity in resourcefulness. I coloured most of the pieces myself by fermentation-dyeing strips of an old bed sheet with kitchen cupboard ingredients: turmeric, onion skins, a few different types of tea. The central rectangle is a piece of used curtain lining with free motion embroidery, and the bugs are taken from an old machine-embroidered Zara shirt. I included blanket stitch as it is the most comforting and satisfying of all the stitches, and gives me a feeling of home.
• Patch by Hilary
  This is a piece of needlepoint. Only the canvas has been saturated in paint and the stitching is dense, dark and not at all pretty. It’s an object and no longer a material and somehow that feels important when it comes to being taken seriously. Maybe it’ll be too much of an object to stitch into? These were my initial thoughts about my sample for this project. I needed to transform the raw materials of an easily recognised ‘women’s craft’ (stranded cotton embroidered onto needlepoint canvas with a needle) into something that would fool the viewer into thinking it was worthy of being taken seriously, as an art object at least. Stitching into the canvas was tough, but satisfying and eventually yielded results. It felt like a metaphor for the struggle to be taken seriously in a judgemental world. I do hope it can be sewn into though!
• Patch by Iris
  The patch I have submitted is a cross stitched blue and purple iris on a peach background. The design is based on a pattern I bought from HelensCrossing on Etsy as I wasn’t sure how to stitch a free-hand iris. My grandmother, also called Iris, taught me how to cross-stitch, crochet and knit, starting with knitting when I was 12 and the rest following the first lockdown. Learning these techniques has proven incredibly helpful during my PhD, providing comfort and a meditative practice during a very stressful period in my life. Working on this patch during the last months of my PhD feels fitting, especially as my grandmother’s lessons have worked their way into my thesis, that now has a textile focus. So this is an iris stitched by one Iris thinking about another Iris, as well as William Carlos William’s poem: “source then a blue as/ of the sea/ struck/ startling us from among/ those trumpeting/ petals”.
• Patch by Jane
  I made a 'crysanthemum' pattern dyed in indigo and using a traditional Japanese stitching pattern. What energises me is the basic creation of textiles from wool to yarn to fabric; from flax to linen thread to fabric; from plant to dye to colour in textiles, paints, inks. Without the use of textiles, mankind could not have settled to farm. We needed rope, baskets, cover of all kinds. We needed to carry our babies to keep ourselves clothes and warm. Millions of women have contributed to the practical and decorative development of the textiles we take for granted. It grieves me that so much skill and creativity has been lost as demand, need and industrialisation have replaced handlwork and contributed to the lack of respect people generally hold for textiles.
• Patch by Jane
  I don’t want to give a story for my patch. I’ve had a lifetime of doing as I was told, being very good and doing as was expected of me. You go to school and they tell you what to do. You follow the role that is expected of you, have children and take care of them. You then find yourself taking care of parents, which I didn’t expect. Now, I can think, what about me? What do I want to do? And what I don’t want to do is to have to justify why I enjoy sewing. - This patch has been created using the smocking technique. Smocking was an early form of garment shaping, used to create cuffs, bodices, and necklines. Smocked fabric would produce 1/3 of the original fabric width, but would allow for fit and flexibility in garment design. The technique was used extensively on labourers work shirts or smocks, not as a status symbol as other embroidery was often used. The technique dates back to the 12th century BC and samples have been found at archaeological digs. Smocking makes its first literary appearance in the Canterbury Tales in 1386; it reached widespread usage in the 18th and 19th centuries.
• Patch by Janet
• Patch by Janet
• Patch by Jannie
  My patch explores the idea of women sowing seeds to create. All life comes from seeds and there are women worldwide who create gardens to feed, nourish and sustain families and in doing so create beauty and new life. The sycamore seed is persistent, tenacious and travels with the wind to populate new corners. I have used it as a symbol of strength and creativity.
• Patch by Jemima
  My patch is from one of the napkins at our wedding earlier this year. The wedding was Georgian themed, reflecting my research interest in women's intellectual lives and friendships in the eighteenth century. It felt fitting to express this creatively on our wedding day (I'd also painted Georgian themes panels and named the tables after literary circles) for many reasons. Not only as my partner has shared in my research over the years, but it was also in part homage to all the wonderful friends present at our wedding who I have met through research. They have made research all the more fun, enriching, and rewarding, and they have inspired me to look deeper into women's friendships, supportive networks, and shared endeavours in the past.
• Patch by Jil
  A new tenant had moved into the house opposite. A woman on her own. No husband, no kids, no dogs, cats or budgerigars – just a woman. After watching through the nets and waiting until the removal van had left, Ma went over to introduce herself. “Mavis,” she said, holding out a hand, “but everyone calls me Ma,” “Oh,” the woman said, clasping Ma’s hand in hers. “Like the Japanese ma – a gap between one thing and another, or, or,” her hands fluttered like birds around her face as she sought the words, “a pause in the flow,” Ma waited as she didn’t seem to have finished. “Like a space waiting to be filled with possibility,” the woman smiled. “It’s just short for Mavis,” Ma said, not knowing what to say next, as normal pleasantries wouldn’t do with this woman. “Come in,” the woman beckoned and Ma followed down the hallway that had been shut up and awaiting its new tenant for weeks. She followed the woman not to the kitchen, but to the front room, where towers of boxes were stacked against one wall. In the centre of the room a typewriter sat on a small fold up table. “I’m sorry, you’ll be busy unpacking and what not,” Ma said, hovering in the doorway. “You’re fine, I’m only unpacking the essentials,” the woman waved a hand behind her where the typewriter sat waiting. “I’m a writer,” she added, grinning at Ma like she’d won the lottery. Ma didn’t know what to say to that, but the thought of having a typewriter waiting to be filled with her own unique thoughts was suddenly irresistible. “I didn’t catch your name?” she said. “It’s Victoria. I don’t let anyone shorten it to Vi, or Vic. We get diminished enough as it is – don’t you think?"