I have always thought of myself as fairly organized.  All my photos are nicely placed in folders on my computer, and all the actual pieces are stored together in my guest room.  Every piece is photographed when it is completed, and the measurement and year finished recorded.  Most of this information goes onto my website, and I thought it was all well organized in my “finished artwork” folder as well.

That was until this weekend when I had an inquiry from a design firm for some images of my work.  In looking at my folder, I noticed that some pieces were not included, and then I realized that some had completely slipped my mind.  I needed to get my act together and make sure it was all in one place–besides the website (which doesn’t have everything, either).

So my project yesterday was to make a full data base of all my work, including photos, dimensions, year completed, prices, and any notes about in which shows the piece was exhibited or if it was sold, to whom and when.  I thought this would be an ongoing project that would take a while, but I was pleased to see that it didn’t take as long as I had thought.

To begin with, I made a list of all pieces and all the appropriate information in a spread sheet.  No, I had never used a spread sheet before, but it wasn’t quite as scary as I had suspected.  The good news is that all I had to do was list them as I remembered them and then the spread sheet organized them for me alphabetically (I considered organizing by year completed, but I just can’t remember what was finished in what year, so that seemed more complicated).

Once I had a complete list (some info still needs to be filled in, mostly dimensions on some pieces that have never been submitted to any shows) I was able to make sure every piece in the data base was also pictured in a folder.  I was really surprised that despite the fact that every piece had been photographed, that more than half of them were not in my “finished work” file.  But the search function on my computer was able to locate all of them, and pop them into the new “complete database of work” folder for me.  Once the photos were all included (and arranged alphabetically just like the data base list) I took some time to go through them and make sure all the sizes were at least similar, and that they were all named consistently–that means title of work, year completed, dimensions.  By naming them this way they fall into the file in the same order as the list, making them “line up” perfectly.  Some had my name on them–some first name, some last name, which meant they were not in any order at all.  Was this boring?  Yep.  Am I glad I did it?  Yep.

For my purposes, I was also able to separate all the quilts made specifically for my two books, and although those are in the data base (with the book listed in the notes section) the photos are in separate folders by book, all included in the main folder.  This keeps them in the record, but separate and apart from those available for exhibiting and sales.

Now I have one folder with the full list and all pertinent info and a photo record of everything I have done.  This will serve me well for more than one reason.  First of all, I have a record of everything, and whenever I need to find a specific piece, or have a need like the one that started this process, I can find it all in one place.  Entering shows, I will be able to look at what I have and make a quick appraisal of what might be appropriate.  I may have to change the photo names when I send them off to other places, but that will be with copies of the photos so that the original file will remain untouched.

This also gives me a complete list of all pieces and sizes for insurance purposes.  Not all of my work has been appraised, but having a complete list will help me if anything ever happens.  At least I will know what was lost.

Using a data base also allows me to do sort by in different ways–so if I want to see what was completed by year, I can have the data base show me that.

I will admit that once I knew everything was in one place, including where each piece was exhibited or sold, and all the dimensions and prices (I had price lists but they were in a separate folder) I was able to sleep better, knowing that it was all well organized and easily retrieved.

Was it fun?  Nope.  Do I recommend it?  Absolutely.  Well worth the trouble.  Now that I am up to date and organized, as each piece is completed, I will add it to the data base and photo file right away.  Ahhhhh.

I do not consider myself to be a techy, but I could not do what I do without the help of a computer.  The very first art quilt I made was even accomplished with the help of my (then relatively new) computer.  Since then I have learned what works, what doesn’t, and when I want (or need) to rely on technology for assistance.

My first serious foray into using the computer in my art came with the development of my first book (which I hope you have all purchased and consumed!).  The premise of the first book Thread Painting published in 2007 was this–lots of people thread paint, I didn’t invent anything–but rather than start with a blank piece of white fabric, draw free-motion sketches (free hand!) and fill them in completely (lots of time and thread) I would start with something that had color on it and fill it in.  That meant starting with commercial fabric and thread painting in the color (like paint by numbers) so that it resembled gorgeous embroidery:

When that wasn’t enough, I began to use the computer to print sketches (not mine!) onto computer printable papers, which I stitched through to do thread sketches:

(well, I am not going to give away ALL the details, it is all in the book and my workshops!!)

Finally, I decided that if I could get it onto fabric, ANY image could be thread painted just like commercial fabric could–enter that wonderful invention–computer printable fabric.  I love this stuff, yes, it is expensive, and I am long past printing photos for things like memory quilts.  I use this to print a photo, and then color it in with thread, creating a great thread painting that starts with a printed base.  The other good news, since there is color on the fabric, not every square inch requires thread–what little there is makes the rest look completely thread painted:

This one is not in the book, it was a gift to a friend–her dog as a Chinese Emperor.  Here is one from the book:

If you have been to my website, you will recognize this close-up detail from “serape” done in thread, but using a photo of a Mexican blanket as the base.  Ok, simple, moving on….

For Photo-inspired Art Quilts (2009, another book to buy!!) I always start with a photo and it always goes through the computer before it becomes an art quilt.  To begin with, I take so many photos, that I really need to store them and organize them on the computer so that I can find what I need when I need it.

I have a folder  on the computer called “photos for art quilts” but within this folder there are dozens of other folders, organized the way I need to find my photos (and your way will be different).  For example, I have folders labeled architecture, landscapes, beaches, people, people with dogs, art galleries/museums, animals (sub-categorized into different animals if I collect enough of them, like birds and crocodiles–yes, I have a thing for crocodiles), etc.  In some cases the photos fit into more than one folder, so I put a copy in every place it is relevant.  That means whenever I need a photo I look through a file or even a sub-file and I have everything I need right at my fingertips.  It takes a while to organize, but it makes a huge difference when you need to retrieve a photo.  I recommend it.  Great project for a snowy or rainy day.

Once I have made a decision about what photo to use, I do some manipulation in Photoshop.  I used to have the full Photoshop, but it is a very expensive program and since I only use a fraction of its capabilities, I now have Photoshop Elements.  Elements is a smaller program, does everything I need it to do, and is a fraction of the cost of the full version.  You can even download a trial version at Adobe.com, which I recommend if you want to play with it before you make the purchase.

Sometimes, I use Photoshop to move elements around in a photo, or add things from other photos.  Often I use it simply to crop and lighten the photo or increase the contrast.  But I find that using filters can also help me plan and make the full sized pattern I use for every art quilt.  More on that tomorrow.

I always make a full sized printout of every art quilt I make–which means I do not have to reinvent the perspective, the proportions or the light and shadow in every piece.  All the information I need is there for me.  This pattern is just for me, it doesn’t have to be gorgeous (I cringe when a student goes to Kinko’s or Staples and pays $40 for a blowup of their photo to use this way).  I write on it, I tape it together, and in the end, I crumple it up and throw it out.  How do I print the photo in exactly the size I want?  I am glad you asked.  My son found me a wonderful website:   www.blockposters.com which I love.

Blockposters is great, nothing to download onto your computer, you simply upload your photo (or manipulated image) to the site.  The image must be smaller than 1 MB.  Tell the program how many sheets of paper wide, what size paper and whether the paper is horizontal or vertical, and it creates a multi-page PDF for your use.  You can either print it directly or save the PDF to your computer (which is what I do in case I need it again) and print it.  Tape the pieces together and you have your full sized print.  Easy, and free.  It doesn’t get any better than that!

Just a few ways I use my computer in my art.  Tomorrow, some ways I use Photoshop Elements to help make the pattern for my art quilts.

There is no right or wrong when choosing what sort of fabric to work with in an art quilt, the choices and materials are the very essence of your “voice” in your work.  But when talking strictly about fabric, there seem to be three primary choices, and they are:

solid fabric:

There are many art quilters who work entirely with solid fabrics–no print, no pattern, no “highs and lows” within the color, like batiks.  Many of those who do work only in solid colors find it necessary to dye their own fabric, in order to have a wide range of colors, and more specifically, values in their available choices.

Although the background and hair of this early piece of mine are printed patterns, the face is done in solid fabric.  (There are many better examples, but I have a policy not to show other people’s work on my site, as I feel it invades their privacy and control of their own images).  A full shot of this piece:

shows that I did, in fact, use hand-dye look alike (commercial) and print fabrics in this piece.  This is probably about as close to solid only as I have even gotten in my serious work.

Printed commercial fabric:

If you have ever seen my work, you know this is my very strong bias.  I love the layers of complexity that printed fabric can bring to a piece.  Plus, part of the joy for me in working with fabric is being able to go into a fabric store and pick out (as I did last week) fifteen different “skin tones” to play with.  I cannot imagine coming home with some PFD (prepared for dye) fabric and a few bottles of dye would feel quite as exciting.

The other aspect of working with fabric, at least for me, that gets me inspired and motivated is finding that right piece of fabric for the right place.  Not just the right color or value, using an unexpected pattern in a fabric is what I really love to do.  I look for fabrics that can be used as lots of “textures” like feathers, leaves, hair, etc. but I also use fabrics in a way that seems unusual, but works.

Look at this piece–at all the unexpected patterns used in the skin and hair, as well as the chair:

Look at all the patterns of fabrics in the hair….

I want you to take particular note of the print in the arm that was a botanical sketch…

and in the chair and the shadows of her shirt, look at the variety of patterns used–from feathery to floral to batik.  For me, this is what makes an art quilt more interesting, more exciting, and distinguishes it from works done with paints, or in paper.

Here is another of many examples in my own work of using unexpected patterns and prints:

hand-dyes:

Most art quilters who work primarily in solid fabrics eventually find the need to dye their own.  The subtle variety of values in a given color is so limited in the commercial market that the frustration level must be enormous.  There are websites that sell solids in value ranges, and that would be a very viable option for those who want to work solid but do not want to dye.  I would imagine, however, that the price of these adds up pretty fast.  Dying your own, in larger quantities and with more specific control would be the way to go.

The other category of hand dye fabric is often called art fabric.  These hand dyes are gorgeous all by themselves.  These are just a few from my personal collection:

I am quick to point out that I purchased these gorgeous fabrics from someone else who did the hand dying.  The pros and cons of these fabrics is simple–they are so extraordinary by themselves, that they are lost when cut up.  Therefore, I have used them as backgrounds, like in this piece:

The hand dye background add a lot to the otherwise dull colors used in the rest of the piece.  It was manipulated, however, so that darker areas fell where shadows would be and lighter areas fell where the light source would be.  Cutting into one of these fabrics is not easy.  It is also not always easy to make them “fit” the area I would want–the orange one in the center of the picture above is still uncut as it just doesn’t seem to fit wherever I have wanted to use it.  Obviously, dying the fabric myself would allow me to control the placement of color in the fabric so that this would not be a problem.

I have off and on considered both hand-dying and painting or printing of fabric but have always in the end rejected the notion.  First of all, what I love doing is finding the image, finding the right fabric for each segment of the image, and putting the piece together.  I do not think I would want to spend so much time making the fabric.

The other reason I have rejected the hand dye route is the chemicals.  I gave up commercial photography back in the pre-digital days simply because the darkroom chemicals (after only a few years) were making me sick.  I still have allergies and breathing issues that I am convinced stem from the exposure of photo developing chemicals back in my younger days.  I just didn’t want to deal with the fumes, the exposure, or even the mess that dying or painting would entail.

In the end the decision you make about what type of fabric to use, and whether or not to “make it” is a function of what you want from the process.  It is all part of that word–voice–that I discuss so often.  I did a fair amount of both research and contemplation before I decided to stick with commercial fabric and to use pattern with abandon.  The decision was part of an ongoing discussion I have with myself about my voice.  As my voice always changes, my hesitation to dye fabric may change in the future, as well.  But for now, I need to be true to myself.

Be true to yourself and think about what you enjoy and what you ultimately want your work to look like.  That will make clear what sort of fabrics you want to use.

After pondering for a while where to go with my art, I have finally shipped off the book and gotten down to work again (art work, that is).  Although I will not share every detail of where I am going, I will share some of the questions I asked myself, in the hope of helping those of you still trying to find your voice.

A few of the things I was not happy with in my work included:

1. I did not feel my work hangs as well as it should.  This may be just an issue of doing denser stitching on the surface.  I want it to hang heavy and straight with no wrinkles.
2. I did not like my edge finish.  This means I have to find another way to finish the edges, one that will make the work look more “art” and less “quilt.”  For me that means no bindings or borders.
3. I want my work to move in the direction of being more art than quilt.  In this same vein, I did not like the rod pocket hanging method–every time I show my work to non-art quilters, the first question they ask is “don’t you have to get it framed?”  So I want to finish and hang in a way that makes it clear it is already “finished” despite being unframed.  In a way that says “artwork” not art quilt, even to (especially to) non art quilters.
4. Batting or no batting.  The question here was whether my work would lie flatter without batting.  This was answered inadvertently this weekend when I attended a crafts fair and saw the work of a fabric artist whose work is definitely not art quilt–more on that in a minute.

Having given a lot of thought to these questions (and others) I have come to conclusions that work for me.  I am not sharing them with you, at least not yet, because I hope to make these part of my personal style, and because I don’t even know yet if my ideas will work.  So for that you will have to wait.  The fact is, what I do want you to take away is this–in order to move forward, I listed everything I wanted to change about my work, and then took these items one by one and thought about how to address each of them.  The results are what will make my work uniquely mine, and your issues and conclusions are part of what will make your work distinctly yours–your voice.  It is important to be brutally honest with yourself and make no excuses–just decisions.  If you don’t ask yourself the hard questions, you won’t get the right answers.

So back to the fabric artist and the batting issue.  This artist created very lovely landscapes using commercially available fabric (my kind of girl) fused to a stiff backing board and framed with glass.  The results were very nice, very professional and decidedly very non-quilt (no stitching, no batting, no edge finishing–which means she has shortened the whole process considerably).  But it did highlight something for me–and that is that the stitching and batting (which makes it more quilterly) does sort of define why I work in fabric.  As lovely as these pieces were, FOR ME (I can’t speak for her or anyone else) I felt that without the stitching and batting they were no different than paper collage–and I work in fabric for a reason.  I love the tactile quality of fabric, the fact that it does wrinkle and fray, and that the results do often create highs and lows that give the piece a feeling of texture and dimension.  I missed that in her work, and would have missed it in mine.  So often, artists who work in fabric are really frustrated painters, or frustrated paper collage artists, but I am not; and if I want to work in fabric, it has to be because of all the possibilities fabric offers.

Make your own list of the things you want to change in your own work–where you would like to be as an artist, what you would like your work to look like, what you want it to “say”, even where you want it to fit in the world.  Then think about how each of these items can be addressed, look at other art–not just fiber art–for solutions.  Think outside the box–remember, thinking outside the box does not mean “be all over the place.”  It means, find a solution that is uniquely yours and not the way others solve the same problem.  It means focused and individual, not covering all the bases.

Today I hung a solo show in my home town, and it occurs to me that some of you might be interested in some easy rules to remember when hanging a show.  It isn’t rocket science!

First of all, no matter what hanging system the venue has, it won’t work without a problem.  This is a promise.  Especially since most gallery spaces are set up to hang pictures with wired backs, and rarely do these hanging systems fit into the eyehooks most of us put at the end of our rods.  So you always need to bring a supply kit with you, which should include:

1. scissors
2. tape
3. painters tape
4. fishing line
5. S hooks
6. picture wire and wire cutter
7. extra rods
8. quilting safety pins (they must be quilting pins, if the show will hang for a while, you don’t want rust spots!)

and you can be sure that whatever you bring, there will be something else you could have used.  Also, based on what happened today, I would also recommend a bottle of water and some granola bars.  This took several hours, no A/C in the room, and the water and sustenance would have helped.

But on to actually hanging the artwork.  I begin by organizing the pieces so that they relate in color, size and theme.  This is no different whether you are hanging a solo show, a group show, or one with lots and lots of 12″ x 12″ pieces.  Put together pieces that work well next to each other, and start laying them out on the floor in front of each wall.

This photo may not look like much, but here you can see the pieces laid out on the floor in the order I liked.  Had this been other people’s work, I would not have put them directly on the rug, but would have put down a clean drop cloth first.  For my own work, I was ok with the rug.  (I shouldn’t have been)

Once the pieces are laid out, then you need to space them on the wall.

In this photo you can see that the hanging system has an upper and lower strip from which to hang the work.  Frankly, if you ask me, even for framed art the lower one is much too low and the upper one too high, but they didn’t ask my opinion when they designed the space.  So I hung the pieces directly on the wire hangers (with quilt safety pins on the back of each piece) on the easy to reach lower level so that I could check the spacing, make sure I liked the way the show flowed from one piece to the next, and to get them off the floor as quickly as possible.

Now the fun starts.  In this situation, it was clear that every piece needed to be put onto fishing line from which they would hang on the upper level.

So step one was just to get them up and then adjust the hanging length.

The goal is to have all the pieces either start at the same level, or relate in respect to eye level.  So this is when the fine tuning occurs.

Finally, the pieces are properly spaced, hung at the right level, and flow from one to another.  The final task is to adjust the lighting to pin point the art, usually done by the venue.

In the end, it is usually the tweaking that takes the most time and energy.  Arranging the work should not be too difficult if you just trust your instincts and your eye.

For those of you who are struggling to “find your voice” I thought I would share with you my thought process in reexamining and evolving my own “voice.”  Even once you have found your true artistic voice, it is important to reevaluate, reexamine and grow as an artist.  To find one thing you do well and never change is boring, plus it makes your work stale and uninspired.

Finding, or changing your voice takes time and reflection.  It is not something that happens in an afternoon.  There are questions you must think about, and the answers need to rattle around in your brain for a while until a clear path emerges.

The first thing I do is make a list of the things I am happy with and those I want to change.  Here, for example is my list (in no particular order, as this is something I do for myself alone):

• I have built a reputation as an artist who depicts people, and since I am drawn to that, I do not want to change the theme of my work and start working on nature, landscapes, etc.
• having made that decision a while ago, however, I have been working on closeups of faces, which, after much reflection, is really not where I want to be.  People like in my work the nuance of body language that my figures have, not the detail of the faces.  I need to move away from faces and back to body language.  This is my strength.  Always go with your strength.
• My work is somewhat dark and moody, in both subject and color palette–something I am happy with and do not wish to change
• I do want to rethink the sizes of the pieces I make, feeling they need to be larger for more impact.
• I have felt for a long time that the work I do lacks refinement, something I want to work on
• The edge finish is also something I want to change, as I am not happy with the way I currently finish the edges of my work–it also feels unrefined.  I have some new ideas that are a bit “out of the box” and may further serve as a unique aspect of my work.
• This may seem trivial, but this was a major revelation for me–I need to rediscover why I work with fabric.  Right now the pieces I make could be done in paper, or even painted.  There is a reason I am drawn to fabric, to piecing (which I have let go of) and now need to embrace the material more.  Having recently reread something Henry Moore wrote about working with stone, I realize that I have not been letting the medium define the process.  So I need to go back to piecing, at least in part, and to use fabric in a way that only fabric can be used.
• Having thought a lot about it, I do know that I am not interested in hand-dying or painting fabric.  I did think a long time about dying (but I so want to avoid the contact with the chemicals and fumes) or painting (but I decided that if I wanted to paint I would be a painter.)  One of my favorite aspects of this kind of work is finding the right match in a commercially available fabric.  A trip to a fabric store gets my heart pumping, with so many gorgeous options out there, I am not interested in attempting to create my own fabric by any method.  It took me awhile, but I am firmly committed to working only with commercially available fabric.
• I am still not interested in any sort of surface embellishment.  That hasn’t changed.
• my work is too photo-realistic, and I want to let go of most of the detail, most of the “environment” in the background and move towards work that is more abstract, while still holding on to depicting figures.
• I have also spent a lot of time looking at other art–most specifically NOT art quilts, for a clearer direction that will make my art more ART and less ART QUILT.

I need to be true to myself, to my voice, while striving to make it better.  I hope that this glimpse into my thought process will help you to find your own direction based on the things you want to achieve in your work.
Please share your journey with me by leaving comments!

I often hear from artists when confronted with the comment that their body of work is inconsistent, that they are simply thinking outside the box.  Thinking outside the box and producing a consistent body of work are mutually exclusive.

“Thinking outside the box” means to discover a way of working that is different from what other artists are doing; it does not mean reinventing yourself with each new piece. It is not enough to try something new, the idea must be fine-tuned, nurtured and developed until it reaches its pinnacle. Thinking outside the box does not mean creating a haphazard and frenetic collection of unrelated pieces, your outside the box idea still needs to be developed into more than a single piece.

No one means to suggest that you should stop experimenting, challenging and pushing the envelope in your work; as an artist you should always be re-examining and evolving.  Thinking outside the box and producing work that does not conform to the standard treatments and techniques is fresh and exciting–but those pieces must work as a group with a thread of connection.

Take, for example, entering a juried show.  The jurors are looking for new and interesting interpretations of the materials and techniques; they WANT work that is “outside the box,” work that takes the medium to a new level.  But if you were to enter three entirely different styles to a show, you would not be illustrating to the jurors that you think outside the box, but rather that you are still struggling to find who you are as an artist.  Even a highly successful piece submitted this way may look to the jurors like a happy accident, something you could not achieve again.  This is certainly not the message you want to sent when you submit work for a show.  It often means that even that highly successful piece will be rejected.

Learning to edit your work is as important as finding your voice.  Even if you are experimenting with different styles and techniques, you must be able to pull together a portfolio of pieces that tell the same story, explore a theme, or are connected by color and/or technique. Showing unrelated pieces only says that you are still struggling to find your artistic point of view.

By all means, do think outside the box.  Use the materials other art quilters are using, but in a way that makes everyone sit up and take notice; add new materials and techniques that no one else is using.  But when you find this “outside the box” approach, really develop it into your own unique artistic voice.  And then, create a cohesive and consistent body of work.

It never ceases to amaze me how many people are out there looking to scam us in order to steal our money or into giving up our personal information (in order to steal our money).  I had two just this morning.

First was the email from Caroline Moore.  When I opened my email this morning, the first one I saw was an email asking about the availability of two of my pieces.  Of course, we all want to think that someone found and fell in love with our art and wants to buy it.  But the suspicion here was the broken English (this is one of my pet peeves–if you are going to try and make it in the cutthroat business of email scams, it behooves you to learn to speak the language at least well enough to know what letters to capitalize and where the punctuation belongs.  Geez, at least have someone else check the wording for you before you send it out!!)  My suspicion was confirmed when I saw that the next several emails were all posts to the SAQA Yahoo group by other artist members of SAQA who had received the same email from the same person.  And in all cases, good old Caroline had inquired about the two pieces each of us had pictured on the SAQA site.  What a lazy scammer she is!

How does one handle these emails?  Probably the best way is to just delete it and ignore it.  Sometimes, the abundance of evidence does not make it so very clear from the beginning.  I have never sold a piece from an online inquiry, but I suppose there is always a first time.  So if in doubt, I politely answer that I only accept payment through paypal and do not ship outside the country (another clue that you are being scammed is the request that the sale be handled quickly because the buyer is leaving the country–which is usually followed by a request that the artist accept a larger than needed third party check and refund the balance to the buyer).  But I have found that sending the paypal email means I never hear from these scammers again.

The other scam happened while I was opening and reading all these emails.  (I guess this was just my day!)  It was a phone call from American Express asking me if I had made any large charges yesterday.  My suspicion was raised by two things; first the caller ID said private caller, and secondly, the woman told me the charges were made in Los Angeles and she sees that I live in New Rochelle.  That didn’t sit right with me, so I gave her my husband’s phone number and called him on his other line.  Sure enough, when she called him she said we really had to cancel the card right away, and when he asked her for more identifying information, she hung up.  A call to customer service at American Express confirmed she was a scammer.  I am sure she would have asked my husband to confirm the account being canceled and the security code, and then she would have been off and running with our card number in hand.

I truly believe that most people in the world are good and honest people who are just going about their lives in the best way they know how.  Unfortunately, there are those few who give the rest of humanity a bad name.  As with everything else in life, if it seems too good to be true, it probably is.  A request to purchase your work could in fact be legitimate, but proceed with caution.  Better not to sell a piece than to be taken.  Don’t click on any links that look suspicious ( I get lots of spam saying it comes from customer service at, for example, paypal.  I never click the link.  Instead, I go to the paypal site and get to customer service that way to confirm or deny the problem).  And NEVER give out either on the phone or in an email, any identifying information like your social security number, credit card numbers, even your birth date.  Better to be cautious than sorry.

It is wonderful to think that someone finds our work online and wants to own it.  In some cases, this can be true.  But I find that in today’s world, it is better to keep your eyes opened and be suspicious of all inquiries until you can confirm their legitimacy.  Be careful out there!

Many art quilters are confused about what it means to present a consistent body of work.  This is often asked for when applying to galleries, professional organizations, or entering shows.

A consistent body of work is a group of pieces that hang together and are clearly by the same hand. There should be a consistently clear, distinct and unique voice, in a style that does not look like, or seem derived from another artist’s work. It is the style—that is the artistic approach—that must be consistent. Simply unifying otherwise unrelated styles of work by theme does not constitute a consistent voice. (This is the goal of an exhibition, when many artists show how their different styles address the same theme.) If you are showing a “wide range of styles”, in fact you are revealing that you have not yet settled on a style you can call your own.

The first step in creating a consistent body of work is to find your voice—that is, to establish your own working style. Only then can you produce a group of pieces that express your singular artistic position. Finding your voice is not a quick and easy exercise, it involves self examination and self discovery, along with experimentation and development of a clear, strong direction. Some things to think about:

• Ask yourself what you enjoy in the process and what you would like to let go.

• Develop an expertise in the techniques that inspire you and eliminate those that you feel are holding you back.
• Think about fabric choices—are you more comfortable with commercial fabrics? Patterns or solids? Hand dyeing your own fabric?
• Do you want to include surface design and/or embellishment?
• Are your colors consistent with your voice? This does not mean you must always work in the same colors, but whether your color selections are subdued pastels or strong saturated colors can change the look of your work, and the impact they have as a consistent body of work.
• What do you want your work to say; do you wish to make a political statement? Express the tranquility of nature? Examine the inner workings of human emotions? Do you want your work to appear serious or whimsical? Subdued or full of movement? What motivates you? What do you want people to take away after seeing your work?
• Consider working in a series, this will allow you to examine and explore different aspects of your subject and techniques in order to help you determine what you want to continue to develop.

Only after you have established a voice that embodies your unique artistic vision, can you begin to build a body of work. All the pieces should appear to be from the same hand, make the same statement, and utilize the same technique or combination of techniques that form the thread throughout the “body” of work. Presenting a cohesive and consistent body of work requires that you edit your existing pieces with the following criteria in mind:

• Are your techniques similar in all the pieces? Combining works created using different techniques rarely holds together simply because they all have the same subject matter.
• Keep in mind the age of the pieces. A great work from 5 years ago is likely to appear out of place with your current work as we all evolve over time.
• Are the materials/colors dramatically different amongst the pieces in the group? If you work mainly in primary colors but include one or two pieces in subdued, earth tones, this will not look cohesive. The same goes for working with mainly solid fabrics versus highly patterned ones.
• Do all the pieces make the same statement, set the same mood?

When all else fails, have someone else look at your body of work and see if anything stands out as different from the rest. Many artists find it helpful to have professional critique of their work to help them establish a direction.

When you begin to enter your art quilts into shows or exhibit locally you can expect to be asked for three things:

1. An artist statement
2. A professional resume
3. A short bio

These three things can be confusing to some people and it is important to understand what they mean in an art context.

A professional resume is not like the resume you might prepare to send out for job interviews.  It does not include your education, where you live, or jobs you have had.  A professional resume is simply a listing (usually chronologically with the most recent at the top) of

1. exhibitions
2. awards
3. public installations
4. publications
5. teaching
6. major collections that have purchased your work (if your family and friends own your work, don’t list it here, it looks unprofessional–everyone’s family and friends have their work.  The most comprehensive collection of my work is in my parent’s apartment in Florida, but that is not particularly impressive).

A professional resume should be organized like a list by category and should always have your name and contact information at the top.

A short bio is just that–short, maybe a paragraph or two.  It should outline your artist biography, not your personal bio.  Not relevant are things like how many children you have or where you have taken workshops (actually listing workshops can work against you as it invites comparisons to see if your work is derivative).  Use this to talk about art education (not graduate education in unrelated areas of study), where you live, and any high points of your art career that you want to stress.

The artist statement is the area where most people seem to get hung up and don’t know what to say.  So here are some guidelines about how to write an artist statement.

First of all, the artist statement should be written in the first person–I, me, my–and not the third person.  This is not a press release or an article about you for a magazine, it is your personal statement about your artwork, therefore it should come from you.

The artist statement is your chance to explain your work as if you were standing next to someone looking at your work in a gallery.  Talk about:

1. what influences you
2. your process
3. the materials you use and why
4. what it is you want to say through your art
5. Communicate what you want people to see or to think about while looking at your work
6. If your work has ever been favorably reviewed, quote it–but be sure to identify the source.

Avoid using “artspeak” and write for an audience who knows nothing about the medium or your work.  If you have several distinct styles or bodies of work, you may want to consider writing a separate artist statement for each of them.

Many venues will ask for a short version of your artist statement, so write and keep two versions–one no longer than a single page and one that is about one or two paragraphs long.  The artist statement should be about your work in general, unless you are specifically asked for a statement to accompany a particular piece.

Finally, your artist statement should be written in your voice, in other words, it should sound the way you would phrase it if you were speaking to someone about your work.  Don’t use trendy or flowery language, and don’t try to make your artist statement a work of art on its own.  Avoid writing it as poetry or haiku, make clear and concise statements that sound like your normal conversational style.