Earlier this month my Cloth in Common fellow artist Lisa Walton posted on Facebook that she was giving up on a piece. She wrote 'Sometimes you have to admit defeat. I’ve had an idea for a quilt in my head for months. Very different style and techniques for me. I tried and tried and tried but yesterday I gave up. It was worth a try but too far from my comfort zone'. Now Lisa is an extremely talented and experienced textile artist and, I'm guessing, had tried to work through problems with the piece before admitting defeat. But I was surprised by the percentage of people who responded with comments along the lines of 'don't give up / you can do it'. And I wondered about whether the balance of responses would be the same if Lisa worked with paint and canvas?

Is it the muddy distinction between art, craft and hobby when working with cloth and stitch that makes throwing work away an anathema to many people? I bet every quilter on the planet knows what a UFO is (and has a box full of them).

This is a discussion I've had with many friends. I found it amazingly liberating a few years ago to get rid of all the commercial fabric I knew I was never going to use, all the dust covered unfinished quilt tops and all old finished quilts, cushion covers, patchwork bags etc that I knew I was never going to show to another living soul. A lot of fabric, a few unfinished projects and a couple of finished pieces were taken by friends but the rest went in the bin. I kept and over-dyed the larger pieces of fabric to use for backing and bindings but that was it. Why - because my work has moved on. And when I work in my studio today it is always 'with intend' and never just something to fill my time.

Developing new work is not a straight path; it is trial and error and there are always casualties. Sometimes my first attempts at printing cloth are just plain ugly. They make great Facebook posts but if adding more print or discharging them doesn't recover them then they need to go. If the pieces are small they go in the bin. If not they get recycled as backings. Sometimes the samples I make don't work. Which can be frustrating if I've spent hours on them but sampling is a really important process for me. It allows me to fine tune my ideas. So no wonder that samples get thrown in the bin.

And then there are finished pieces. I like working in series because it allows me to dig deep and really develop my ideas. But the reality is that not all pieces in a series make the grade. Some pieces go wrong part way through. And some just don't have the 'wow' factor when they are finished. I have a large piece that I had been making to submit to the European Quilt Triennial that isn't working. The sample I made worked. A smaller piece I made in this new series worked. But not this one. After 50+ hours work I have admitted defeat. And used my precious studio hours on another new piece (details photographed) that is working. 

SAQA (Studio Art Quilt Associates) recently posted a gallery of photos of some of its' members studios. I always enjoy looking at how other artists arrange their studios - it is a great way to find new storage ideas and gives an insight into how different artists work. So grab a cup of coffee ....

Some artists, like Linda Syverson Guild, have such wonderful views from their studio that it surprises me that they get any work done! Others, such as Terry Aske have beautifully organised studios with their fabrics and threads arranged rainbow style. I am lucky enough to have a good sized study but I am definitely jealous of Susan Webb Lees' space. Big with lots of different tables and surfaces. Others have small spaces that force them to keep tidy such as Eileen Williams. Most of the photos show tidy studios but Uta Lenk sent a photo of her studio in use. How does she produce such wonderful work from the chaos?

One thing that did surprise me was the lack of 'wet' studios in the gallery. No photos of messy print benches or dye buckets. SAQA want more photo's via Instagram and #saqaartstudios. Maybe I should send them some of mine next time I have a printing session!

Not many words needed. A beach that is more rock than sand. A stone harbour with boats that look too small to conquer the waves. Views of snow topped mountains on Arran. Blue skies and numb fingers. Perfect Dunure.

Fingers and toes crossed ... this post should be reaching you from my newly designed website. Please have a look around. And please, please let me know if something isn't working! I hope you like what you see.

I like the more stripped back look of this website and the fact that the Squarespace template I used included lots of different ways of displaying images. Which is very handy as my art is all sorts of shapes and sizes. It was also really easy to import my blog posts from my old Wordpress site. And then there was the shop - easy to set up although you can only use a single aspect ratio for all the product images. I have spent a lot of time in Photoshop over the last couple of weeks!

Whilst deciding what to show in the galleries I realised that there are some older works that I'm very unlikely ever to get the opportunity to exhibit again so I have put them on sale in my new shop. I have also listed many of the small pieces I made during my recent 100 (week) day challenge. Although I made them for my upcoming exhibitions in 2018 I did get rather carried away and made more than I really need. You'll notice in the galleries that several of my large works shown in the galleries are marked as not for sale. This is either because they are touring or because they will be exhibited next year. 

Now after several weeks sat in front of a computer I need to get back to making art! 

I've been a little quiet on social media for the last couple of weeks as I am building myself a new website. A photo of me banging my head against a monitor doesn't make for a good Instagram moment! I have been thinking about upgrading my website for a while - it is a basic Wordpress site that has served me well but I feel like I have out grown it. And seeing as I am resting between jobs (aka unemployed) it seemed like a good time.

I want a site that looks more contemporary, that allows me to display my work in lots of ways, that allows me to sell my work online, that can house a blog and that can 'grow' with me. Oh and I also want it to be a lot easier to use than Wordpress. My research fell into two categories - finding the best set up (site host, e-commerce provider etc) and looking at lots of sites to help me decide how I want mine to look. The first part was easy. I picked Squarespace as it is a one stop shop that is cheaper than other options. It is very easy to use and I can upgrade my basic plan if I need more functionality in the future. The Help section is really good and, if I get stuck, my daughter and her partner having been using it for years for their shop Good Press.

The second part - looking at other people's sites - was very enjoyable as I've seen some great art but it was also a bit surprising. Very, very few of the textile artists have a shop function or even list prices. And yet many of them will list a price when they exhibit work in galleries or at shows and I'm sure are as thrilled as I have been when somebody buys their work. So I wondered why not? Maybe it feels like setting up a shop is too much effort given that the number of sales is always, unfortunately, going to be small? (Which maybe it was before sites like Squarespace made it quite straightforward). Or are we worried that the audience will see us as less serious about our art if we put a price on it? Do we worry that it will be seen as craft rather than art? Are we concerned that viewers will scoff when they see the price of the work?

I hope not. I am deadly serious about my art. It is a passion. An obsession. I am going to continue to make art even if I never sell another piece. But let's get real. Making art costs money - if you add up everything you have spent this year on materials, on submission fees, on postage, on running costs for the space you work in, on your website, etc, etc, how much does it come too? And then there is time. I approach my art with the same professional attitude I use in my day job - my time has value and I want to be rewarded for the investment I make in my art. Being curated into shows is fantastic, thrilling and a big motivator. But somebody liking my work enough to spend money on it - now that is in a different league so why wouldn't I make it as easy as possible to buy?

Every artist has a bridge piece in them don't they? This is mine. It is not an unusual bridge in terms of design but it is quite striking when seen from the link road in St Helens. And I've tried to capture that in this quilt. The colours look solid from a distance but closer inspection reveals lots of lovely texture created by using breakdown printing in a limited colour palette. It has been made for my upcoming exhibition with Helen Conway at The World of Glass, St Helens.

I am really happy with this piece and may make more 'bridge' pieces but it did make me wonder about genre. I have intentionally tried to work in a more abstract way in recent years but, despite the colours used, this piece doesn't feel abstract. So what is it?

The Tate defines abstract art as 'art that does not attempt to represent an accurate depiction of a visual reality but instead uses shapes, colours, forms and gestural marks to achieve its effect'. Wikipedia defines it as art 'that uses a visual language of shape, form, colour and line to create a composition which may exist with a degree of independence from visual references in the world'. Hmm … well the colours may be abstract but, as I wanted it to look like a bridge, the finished piece cannot be called abstract.

The Tate defines figurative art as 'any form of modern art that retains strong references to the real world and particularly to the human figure'. Wiki says that figurative art 'describes artwork - particularly paintings and sculptures - that is clearly derived from real object sources, and is therefore by definition representational'. And the Tate defines representational as a 'blanket term for art that represents some aspect of reality, in a more or less straightforward way'. The quilt is not a painting, or a sculpture nor does it refer to the human figure but figurative seems like a good fit.

So what about the quilt world? If I wanted to enter it into Festival of Quilts which category would I choose? They don't have an 'abstract' category but their definition of an Art Quilt is 'quilts with both a strong visual impact and a high quality of execution designed to be displayed as artwork and communicating an idea, emotion or concept through the medium of textile and stitch'. Sherdley Road has strong visual impact and you will need to make my word for the fact that it is incredibly well made but it doesn't represent an idea, emotion or concept. It represents a bridge. Which means that it fits with their description of a Pictorial Quilt which are 'quilts depicting a scene or subject eg: people, animal, flowers etc as the main body of the quilt. A figurative or representational piece'. Hmm ….. A lot of the pieces entered into this category are very literal - often photo like representations of their subject. Wonder how my piece would be judged? I guess there is only one way to find out!

Last Thursday my gentle, lovely mother-in-law, Joan Higgins passed away. She had been ill for a while so her death was not unexpected but it was sooner than we had hoped for. Knowing that it was going to happen has not made it any easier but it did give us the time to spend her last few days together as a family. And I could not be prouder of the way her grandchildren rallied together to support my father-in-law, my husband and his brothers. 

We are now in that 'limbo' phase before the funeral and I have been able to get into my studio for a few hours. As always I find solace in my art but have realised that I cannot return to my 100 week day challenge. I started the challenge at about the same time as Joan became ill. On day 44 we learnt that her illness was terminal. Since then the challenge has provided an incentive to get into the studio nearly every day if only for a few minutes. 

Day 86 was the last day I worked on the challenge. The challenge was to spend 2 hours each week day evening for 100 days / 20 weeks making small art. I worked in my studio on 80 of the 86 days and for a total of 162.5 hours out of the 172 hours targeted (2 x 68). I have finished 52 small pieces of art.

So despite ending too soon I consider it a success. A bit like Joan's life - a good life but over too soon.

I have now completed 80 days of my 100 week day challenge and have created 52 small pieces of art. (Go Leah!!). They range in size from 8 x 8 inches to 12 x 30 inches and all can be described as quilts. Each has 2 layers held together by stitch (and bondaweb). They can definitely be called 'textile' art.

I am going to spend the last 20 days of the challenge creating small pieces using the breakdown / monoprint process that I have been experimenting with. I'm not sure about the size yet or how I will present the finished pieces. Nor have I decided whether to add stitch yet. I've been sampling different ideas and I am not sure if the individual prints look better with or without stitch.

Not adding stitch is pretty radical for me. And it makes me wonder whether 'just' printing onto textile is enough to call it textile art? Artists who paint onto canvas are not called textile artists even though canvas is a textile. So if I don't add stitch to some of my work what should I call myself?

It will come as no surprise when I say that 95%+ of the textiles I use in my work are created using breakdown printing.  Sometimes I include dyed pieces, sometimes I add a layer of print using thermofax but breakdown is my love.

For the last few years I have printed knowing that the majority of cloth is going to be cut into rectangles and used to build backgrounds for series like Ruins. Which means that I don't think about composition when making the screens. I may choose square type shapes to embed or keep things aligned in one direction. When I print the screens I tend to place the prints side by side until I have filled the piece of fabric. Again I'm not thinking about composition. I occasionally cut out a particularly lovely section of cloth to use to cover book board but mostly the cloth gets cut down and pieced.

I love this process and expect to be using it for years but I'm also keen to find new ways to use breakdown - I love experimenting. I've played with printing with both thickened dye and discharge paste before batching my cloth. I've played with multiple layers of colour on a screen. Both gave interesting results but didn't fit with what I was trying to achieve at the time.

And then I saw some images on Instagram by the lovely Leslie Morgan of Committed to Cloth / the Creative Studio and had a lightbulb moment. Leslie and her students were painting thickened dye on screens to give very defined shapes (often buildings) then experimenting with colour exchange when they printed off the dried screen. Wonderful stuff that got me thinking about positive and negative space and how I could use breakdown screens to create series of monoprints.

So I have been playing. And having so much fun. Watch this space ..