I love a parade

Wrestling with rectangles to create 3D forms just seems like the right thing to do right now. Slicing, folding, forming, stitching, stuffing and exploring dimensional work is a substitute for the quiet contemplation that is required for stitching at the machine. I have to find ways to inject humor and distraction into my news cycle. My body is not my body right now. It aches with worry for the future. I have nervous energy. Itchiness at the edge of consciousness. Sorrow for Ukraine, Syria, Afghanistan, Ethiopia. I feel like we are marching into mountains of disaster. I am building a parade—headless beings marching.

These headless creatures have taken over my studio.

I imagine these creatures as travelers. They could be immigrants, exiles, or blind and willful followers. They have piled their belongings onto their backs to move into a future undefined. They carry their wounds, their heritage and history. They leave family behind and seek family ahead.

They toil and fail and get up again.

Each day they join the parade of the absurd.

I might need more space soon.

Art that travels

I teach next week with the Design Outside the Lines workshop led by Diane Ericson. It’ll be new geography for me. They say that Ashland is a magical town. A week away with creative stitchers always inspires me. It might be best all around for me to let these creatures be for a bit.

My piece, In the Weeds, is showing at the Eastern Tennessee State University Slocum Galleries in a show called Positive/Negative 37. So proud to be part of that innovative show. If you are near their campus drop in to see some great work.

I am preparing a show of my work at the National Quilt Museum in Paducah, Kentucky that debuts in May. The museum has offered me a corner gallery. Working with their curator, I have chosen a selection of my work that represents some of the many directions I have traveled as a stitcher.

I am honored to have been chosen for a residency at the Virginia Center for Creative Arts in June. Working for 22 days in isolation among other artists including writers, painters and photographers will be a new challenge for me. It is on the top of my mind these days. What to bring? All the toys or a slim selection? More on that later. What would you bring to a residency?

In the Weeds

It’s about the process. I’ve said it before and I say it to myself every day. But it’s more than that. It’s about connection, meditation, intuition and evolution. The work I do is no longer precious, no longer final, no longer static. It lives on, breathes inconsistency and opens new insights. This process keeps me thinking. This process brings pieces together. Here’s a brief summary about the process for a new piece, In the Weeds.

I started with this piecing composition. My thoughts were about sentinels — beings tuned into signals that may not be heard.

I did a lot of stitching on this piece, both by machine and by hand. There was an inkling of dissatisfaction during that time. But my motto tends to be “more is more” right? You can see the warping that is happening to the piece as I add more texture. Not a good sign most of the time.

I let it hang on the studio wall for about 4 weeks. Then I put it into the divide and conquer bin. This piece would not see the light of day until I could resolve its main problems — frivolity without reality, composition inadequacies, warpage meant for the sea not the wall.

Then one day I had an itch to destroy, erase, and engage.

I ended up with 96 4” x 4” squares. And it felt really good.

Reassembly took a few days. This was one of the solutions I had. Still not there. I attach the blocks to a substrate. This time I used drapery blackout fabric. It stitches very well and maintains its shape.

Of course, I am not shy about adding details. And, I added a few pieces from other quilts that were in the divide and conquer bin.

It was about this time that I knew the title of the piece, In the Weeds. According to the Cambridge dictionary: Concerned with so many problems or so much work that you are finding it difficult to deal with something; or concerned with small details, often when this prevents you from understanding what is important.

I’ve been in the weeds about a few things lately. Understanding what is happening in our governmental bodies, concern about the environment, moving into the third period of life. The catharsis of stitching helps quell the storm.

In the Weeds, final composition. Paula Kovarik, 34” x 39.5” The sentinels are still there but they are more active in their environment.

In the Weeds, Paula Kovarik, back panel.