Brian Haggard - Embroidered Memories: 375 Embroidery Designs • 2 Alphabets • 13 Basic Stitches • For Crazy Quilts, Clothing, Accessories

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all those who give themselves permission to create with reckless abandon and make not only quilts but beautiful art as well. The freedom to express ones artistic self should never be taken for granted.

Acknowledgments

I am thankful for the great success of my first book, Crazy Quilted Memories , and to all the many people who have asked me to make a pattern book. What you hold is a labor of love from my daydreaming.

First and foremost I want to thank my mother, Debbie, and my father, Rich, for their continued support and encouragement. Im awed by my older brother, Shane, and his inspiring ongoing story of our family. Shane, you blow me away with your creative mind. My friend Janet Brandt is always a constant affirmation of what creativity is. She is truly an inspiration, and I thank her so much for all of her help in pushing me in the right direction. To my wonderful partner, Kevin Head, who always has that smile and a pat on the back to tell me that this is all worth it and to follow my dreamthank you, Kevin, for your undying support and for having my back in any situation. This year a person has entered my life, lent a hand, and given me so much inspirationJudith Montano, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your mentoring and guidance. Your support will always mean the world to me. I must give a shout-out to a wonderful friend who has moved away but is by no means far from my heartMelissa Taylor, not only do you and your quilting skills add to my work, but your wonderful support and friendship mean even more to me. This would not be a proper acknowledgment without recognizing the crazies from Arkansasmy friend, Sherry Ford; my best friend, Patricia Eaton; and lets not forget my very, very best friend, Jim Gatling (wink). You all have made my entrance into the quilting world a complete joy, and I thank you. I want to thank all of my stitching friends in my Wednesday stitch group for the laughs and support, especially the yo-yo queen, Sally Francis. If ever there is a group that keeps me grounded and motivated, its all my good friends at The Back Door Quilts. Teri Dougherty, Linda Hale, and all the employeestwo words: You rock! I cant say enough good things about the great people at C&T Publishing. I feel so fortunate to work with such a talented and thoughtful team. And the one person who has made this all a realitySandy Elliott, I thank you so much for all the hours of writing and editing and the use of such a brilliant mind. Your friendship is like nothing Ive ever encountered. Thanks for all that is written on these pages; you have to know you make dreams happen. And last but certainly not least, my eternal gratitude goes to my grandmothers Juanita Lucille Carson Taylor and Opal Ester Richie Haggard and my great-grandmother Etta Mae Reid, who inspired me to create these great works. You will never be forgotten. Love to you all.

A Day in the Life of a Crazy-Quilt Artist

A story from the imagination of Shane Haggard for Brian Haggard

The early morning of fall combined with the warm ground of summer has swelled the air with fog. My editor just called to tell me that my first book, Crazy Quilted Memories, has gone international. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the news, I have made my way to the grand porch with my coffee to take some time to reflect in the very spot where this journey started. Never in my wildest dreams did I think my book would be embraced by so many.

French Mannequin

My great-great-grandmother would be so happy to learn that her legacy lives on. The months of digging for and restoring the items that once made her haberdashery so successful have been a labor of love, which is still a work in process. Using these finely worn and aged items to create projects has tethered our spirits for a lifetime. Over a year later I am still unearthing things from the attic tomb to share. I have been careful to explore closely every cobwebbed corner and dusty counter, as each holds a missing piece to the story of her life.

About six months into the sorting process I noticed a narrow beam of light stretching across the floor. It revealed a small space between two wooden slats on the wall. The dry wood had shrunk and uncovered a secret hiding place long forgotten. I gently pulled on the dried wood, and a small door swung open. Inside, a cavernous hideaway.

Covered in layers of time, a metal box in the middle of the room barely reflected the beam of the flashlight. The opening of the small forgotten room was just large enough to climb into. Inside, the walls were covered with pictures and postcards from my grandmothers father during his travels. This was my grandmothers secret hideaway, where she must have dreamt of creating clothing and acted out
her fantasies.

Inside was the most beautiful wooden French dollher hands and arms moved, so she could be posed in various positions.

An Asian rug covered the cold, dusty floor. Small wooden hangers held antique clothes, obviously tailored by my grandmother for her dollseach a miniature work of art, carefully crafted with love. Feeling a cord touching my head, I pulled gently. The room filled with light, and the dangling shade made of silk, now shredded by time, swung back and forth.

The metal box was much easier to see now, and my heart began to pound and my face flushed. It was heavy as I moved it closer to me, and I had to sit. What could be inside? Did I want to open it? Should I leave it as I found it? My curiosity, of course, won the battle. The lid creaked as I slowly opened the top. I got a sense of how my grandmother must have felt the first time she opened the box and saw what it revealed. Inside was the most beautiful wooden French dollher hands and arms moved, so she could be posed in various positions. Her base flared to give her musty dress the illusion of fullness. I gently pulled her from the box and blew several times to clean her face. Her paint had long been rubbed away from excessive love, but detailed carving in the wood revealed the delicate angelic face of the time. Her hand held the skeleton of a marionette in clothing identical to hers. It hung from the single thread that time had not claimed. Both dolls wore clothes of only the finest materials, embellished with lace and mother-of-pearl buttons. I carefully transported her to the dining room table to continue my exploration. She has since been moved from her time capsule and restored to her original beauty.

I share this story because it was and is my inspiration for this book. My grandmother lived in a time where functionality came first; style and fashion were secondary to all else. Items such as this doll were labors of love and a reminder to all to find their playful side. My grandmother would have wanted to see her items used to create functional pieces. Therefore, I have fashioned the items for this book to be functional, while maintaining a sense of the past and honoring my grandmothers findings. Remember to find the playfulness in all you do, and work it into the fibers and threads of your life.

Chapter 1

INTRODUCTION

Creativity is never born out of fear.