True, the copy I printed was very pale. Very pale. While that didn't help, it wasn't the real problem.  Apparently, magnified to more than 500% of original size, all the lines in the comic got very fuzzy.  Tracing over them with a sharp pencil clarified the nature of the problem, but not the image. I'd have to go back to the (computer) drawing-board and produce a precise line drawing.  

With a grid added to divide the image into 25 sheets of paper, it was ready to print.

Coming up next: Holy seams, Batman! We're actually sewing!

But where to start? Working from the center outward was one option, and maybe a good one. Instead, I chose to work from the edges in, and from the top down. Though I confess, that decision was really based on wanting to start with the easiest part.  That long, straight seam across the top was the clear winner. (Actually, two long straight seams; there's the dark green, then a narrow strip of black, then the lighter green.) The next seam would be a curve, but a long, gentle curve. Piece of cake.

My working method was similar to piecing quilt blocks: build up sections with straight machine sewing, then join to other sections with more straight seams. In places where that method broke down (like the angled yellow-and-brown window frames in the photo below), I did what I could on the machine, then finished up the "hard parts" with hand-applique.

As I selected each section for sewing, I cut the corresponding shapes from the paper pattern to use for cutting the fabric, adding seam allowances to each piece. 

So far, so good, but the black and grey colors in the original were not looking like a quilt for a toddler.  The brighter, shades-of-blue Batman was what I was looking for.

The next step was very computer-intensive, as I traced every single colored shape from the drawing. (There's probably all sorts of software available to automate all that tracing, but I use a slow, tedious method, using Microsoft Publisher. I do not recommend it to anyone with a normal tolerance for tedium and frustration, but it works for me.) Assuming I'd have the original comic image to use as a pattern , I made this tracing a bit rough--no finesse in the drawing, just enough detail to see the color patches.

Then I played with re-coloring all those shapes in different shades of blue and green. Thinking ahead, I chose my palette from the colors available in Kaufman's Kona Cotton. After all, I wanted to be sure that I could actually find fabric to match my color choices.  You can see two versions of color trials below. ​

Honestly, I rather prefer the version on the left for its moodier atmosphere. But some of the colors are a bit too close in value.  I decided to go with the version on the right.

With the drawing finalized, it was time to scale it up. The computer made this part easy. My expanded comic  was proportioned to cover one sheet of paper; scaled up to 500% of original size, it would make a 42 1/2 inch by 55 inch quilt. The pattern would print out on 25 sheets of paper. Perfect. 

Using the full-size pattern and my favorite color trial , I calculated yardage requirements and placed my order. I'd need black, a bit of white and peach, brown, orange, 2 shades of yellow, 3 of green, and 5 of blue. Phew! 

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I'm glad I didn't find it sooner, or I might have tried to duplicate it. As it is, I think my hanging incorporates two or three of the same design elements. 

Like the Advent and Easter banners, the pattern for this one will be available for instant download in my Craftsy shop.

At the center of the piece is a brilliantly white element, which reads as a star (for Advent) or a cross (for Lent). The narrow shapes and sharp points give the impression of  slicing open the center of the hanging, admitting a burst of light into the purple darkness.

 "...And God separated the light from the darkness." (Genesis 1:4) 

The placement of the purple fabrics, progressing from the lightest values at the center to the darkest at the edges, continues the theme of spreading light.

Construction of the hanging is simpler than it looks.  There are 24 6-inch blocks of identical design, differing only in color. I named this block design, “Genesis", for the dramatic way it divides the light and dark values. 

The same set of 6 templates is used for both the lighter and darker halves of each block, with no left-handed/right-handed variations of the block templates to keep track of. Avoiding mirror symmetry in the blocks keeps the overall design dynamic.

The central star may look complicated, but it's really an easy trick. The "arms" of the star are added by machine on top of each quadrant of assembled blocks.  Then the 4 quarters are seamed together.  Slick.

The old pulpit hanging in the church had long drapery fringe on the bottom.  Not wanting to use fringe, I opted for a row of prairie points to finish the lower edge. 

Instead of the standard quilt binding, I used a wrap-around backing technique.  That has the advantage of forming an integrated hanging sleeve, and means no binding to sew on.

The pattern, available now in my Craftsy shop, includes full-size templates for the blocks and the star, plus detailed piecing and assembly instructions and a clear color-placement chart.

Next week, I'll share my Easter hanging, which features lavish appliqué over a thousand-pyramids background.
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Not every quilting design will lend itself readily to the template method.  Spiraling lines are particularly template-resistant.  But once you learn to look for the solid shapes within a design, marking with templates is a breeze.
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