Good news! A very nice woman came to take away my Civil War fabric, freeing me to play with my painted canvas. Et voila!
I lie. There was nothing fast and easy about this mess. I painted (stamped, dabbed, spritzed, silk screened) every piece of the fabric used in this 34 x 29" rag. I began it months ago for Cyndi's class. It started as a mark-making exercise using black paint on watercolor paper. I criss-crossed my paint, added something puffy, and came away with plaid.
Since then I've been arranging, stitching, ripping, rearranging, stitching, ripping, gluing, trimming, ripping, and stitching painted canvas until I'm sick to death of the piece and may need to put it away for a while before I quilt it. On second thought, I never get back to projects once I put them away to "cook." I'd better keep it out in plain sight where it will continue to annoy the heck out of me so that I finish it. THEN I'll hide it away.
The quilt (still to be quilted and embellished) contains fabrics I painted (etc.) in classes and at home over the past year and a half. It's busy since I still don't know when to stop adding things. At least I'm restricting myself to a few colors (yes, that's a few), and that's progress.
My husband (bless his heart--Southerners know what that means) commented that I'm developing my own style. Sure is: Schizophrenia.