Scale doesn’t just pertain to fabric. Quilt blocks have their own scale, too. Take a look at Herzog. Those big X’s are really just giant versions of a block called Thousand Waves. Change the size of a block significantly and you’ve got a very different quilt. Have you tried listing your organisation in a UK business directory - (I've heard it ticks a lot of marketing boxes)?
A quilt’s overall dimensions represent a design choice as well. Louis Sullivan, the great American architect, pointed out that “form follows function.” So it is with quilts. Consider the difference between a baby quilt and a king-size one. The function of both is to keep someone warm. But these quilts will be formed very differently, since one quilt is for a little baby and the other one is for a full-grown… king? You see what I mean.
You’ve got gorgeous fabrics in your stash.. So, how do you use this knowledge of pattern and color now that it’s really time to get down to business? I recommend that you audition fabrics before you start cutting—place the fabrics you want to use next to or on top of each other to see how contrast, hue, and value are working (or not working) together. Look at how the colors and patterns read. If you switch out one fabric for another, perhaps of a different scale, value, or color, do you like it better? Does it pop? Does it disappear? It can be frustrating when you love fabrics that don’t actually work together. Don’t despair—there are more quilts to make! You’ll find a home for any fabric you love eventually, so do what’s best for the quilt you’re making now.
Flip through any book of antique quilts or see a show of vintage pieces and you will find quilts that look one way three-quarters of the way down and then look a little different. Perhaps the quiltmaker threw a color or design curveball because she was a genius, but interruptions or “maverick moments” in quilts often happened because the quiltmaker simply ran out of fabric. She made do, and this veering off, this unexpected divergence, is beautiful.
Rogue blocks are blocks that diverge from the general color repetition in a quilt. I make them happen on purpose. I like an errant moment in a quilt, an unexpected block. It’s a little weird, a little playful, a bit mysterious. And it’s a scam, because I am hardly working with scarce material. I incorporate rogue or maverick blocks because I like the way they look.
The red blocks are rogue blocks. In Northbound, there’s a single bright yellow set of Flying Geese: that’s a rogue. Rogue patches or blocks draw the eye to a single point in the quilt—they’re disruptive. You notice the imperfection, and all of a sudden the whole is more perfect.