Tessellations or a plate of noseless brie...
This tiny project - scaled down to be more than 75% smaller than the original pattern - has been sewn together with fragile stitches, fraying seams and fragments of fabric that have been left tattered and feeling out of sorts from the battle they went through under the foot of my sewing machine, but from a distance, at least, it seems to shine.
These are some of the great wodges of seam allowance that went beneath my sewing machine foot. I think it comes down to inexperience that I even attempted to make the pattern at this scale, as while foundation piecing is fantastic for sewing really tiny pieces, I've learnt from this project that I need to study a pattern to make sure that not too many seam allowances are converging at the same point in order for things to end happily. At some points, 14 seams met. It was horrible. (For those confused about the different types of paper piecing - this is foundation paper piecing (FPP) all done by machine and very different from the English paper piecing (EPP), sewn by hand, which I normally do. I've done very little FPP. As is probably apparent).
The photo at the top of this post gives you some sense of scale, but here's a photo of the nail on my ring finger on top of one of the blocks, which might convey its tinyness more clearly.
The actual piecing of the individual blocks went really smoothly - I enjoyed it hugely and loved seeing a pile of precision-pieced blocks gathering on my desk.
Piecing the blocks into rows was relatively successful...but piecing the rows to one another was quite disastrous and at this point everything began to go horribly wrong. If I was reading this blog post, I'd really want to see close-up photos of the finished piece, because as sewists, it's the details and finish that we really want to see and study so that we can learn ourselves...so I'm going to have to ask you to look on this piecing with kind eyes, because technically, it's an absolute eyesore and I feel slightly like I'm sharing photos of myself wearing just my underwear by posting these photos! Brace yourself.
The blocks which had once been so crisp and precise, quickly became quite the opposite. The fans of graduating colour distorted into swirls with such definition that it began to look as though it were an intentional design feature (note especially the ones at the bottom of the photo below!).
Blocks refused to meet up politely, stitches bulged under the tension of trying to hold so many layers together and points became blunted, as though I were wielding a cheeseboard laden with brie where the nose had been cut from each.
And yet, I find myself drawn to looking at it. Despite its obvious flaws, it feels as though it is more textural and tactile than anything I've ever made. Although it is so very far from the result I was hoping for, I don't feel traumatised by the ruination of so many carefully constructed blocks, but oddly fascinated by them. When it comes to sewing, I am a perfectionist, so faced with having produced this I find myself slightly stunned by its blatant flouting of this type of aspiration...but not stunned in a negative way necessarily. More like a surprised: Oh my goodness! So the world really doesn't end if the points don't meet!
I'd originally intended to hang it in our hallway, but instead it now hangs in my sewing room. It makes me happy to look at it: a cosy and joyful-looking testament to how things can still look overall okay, even if the details aren't all lined up looking present and correct. I'm enjoying the contrast of looking at it from a distance where I feel really quite thrilled by all the colour and sparkle and then sidling by for a close-up of the true horror of it and just thinking: Wow! That's really terrible!
I always assume that most sewists are perfectionists, as I imagine one of the things that pushes us to constantly start new projects is the wish to learn, progress, to become better and more skilled at what we do, so I'd love to hear how you felt if you've ever had to face a project ending so differently from your own expectations in terms of a complete technique fail. Do you find a way to embrace it or do you squirrel it away quietly in a drawer...which you don't open very often? My normal response is the latter, so I've surprised myself in my reaction to this one!
Florence x
Ps. Please don't be put off buying this incredibly lovely pattern by reading about my own misadventures - my only difficulty with it came from down-scaling it so heavily.
Pps. I know foundation piecing is perfect for sewing really minuscule pieces, but I've no idea if dealing with this many converging seams at such a small scale is all in day's work for a really competent foundation piecer - I'd love to know if it would be possible to get really amazing pinpoint results with this pattern with more practise or whether it just wasn't the right pattern to scale down in this way.
Pps. And have you seen these incredible miniature quilts?
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