It begins with scent

The stew is simmering on the stove.

This year is different. We won’t be gathering in person. Instead we chose a food swap. Each household will be making some of their favorite foods and sharing it with the other households. We have vegetarians, vegans, meat eaters, dairy-free and gluten-free family members so we threw out the standard menu for Thanksgiving. I am making a curried garbanzo vegetable stew. My niece made red-bean mochi cake, my son is making his signature deviled eggs and my daughter-in-law is making stuffed acorn squash. In the kitchen there is a bread pudding beginning to take form and I have heard rumors of homemade mac and cheese. Pie is on the menu, of course (thank you Miles and Megan).

It might not be the most coordinated menu and some may choose to scatter the makings across several days but the bounty is glorious.

thanksgivingtables_PaulaKovarik.jpg

We have fun at our holiday meals. Years ago I bought some catering tablecloths and fabric markers for our Christmas dinner. Each table setting got a marker to play with. The result has become a tradition. These cloths show children growing up, a scorecard for a family card game, references to Batman movies and phrases of hope. There may be some gravy stains but we don’t worry about those much. Most of all they show our love. They will travel with the food this year. And I will need to get some new ones.

What makes your holidays special?

Wishing all of you a healthy and delicious Thanksgiving day.

We live in challenging times on a miraculous planet. And I am grateful for that.

I’m airing out the holiday tablecloths to ready them for their journey to family homes.

I’m airing out the holiday tablecloths to ready them for their journey to family homes.

On collecting.

My studio is a hive of fabric and images. There are usually 3-4 pieces in process on the walls or tables, notes to myself stuck on various surfaces and a 12 foot bulletin board with paper flotsam pinned in layers. But more than that, I have collections of debris everywhere.

I have become a magpie, collecting shiny objects for the pile.

At the end of each project I wrap the trimmings into these textural balls as reminders of the raw and unfinished.

I collect rocks with holes in them for their animated messages.

I wrap tubes with strips of fabric. I don’t know why.

I stitch down trimmings.

I save thread ends, tie them together and wrap them onto spools or stuff them into holding cells.

I save all found rust. Especially the curly ones.

The bulletin board has 10 years of layers on it. I may have to edit soon.

Scraps from cut up quilts are great raw material for new work.

The fabric rainbow gives me great joy every time I see it.

The mask table is getting full. I may have to figure out some other way of keeping these soon.

I won’t go into the insect exoskeletons, broken shells, animal bones and feathery bits that turn up in my drawers. I think this habit of collecting drives my creativity. The rich raw materials that surround me take me beyond the mundane.

Inspirations and year end insights

Inspirations all around. The spells generated by books, politics, nature, artists and musicians fuel my journey as I create my art. Here are some of my favorites for your end-of-year browsing pleasure.

Beastie Boy and His Pals will be part of the Stitched Dissent show at Christian Brothers University Beverly + Sam Ross Gallery in Memphis, TN January 10 - February 12

Theo Jansen creates spectacular strandbeasts of wood and plastic that come to life when exposed to the wind. I could watch them for hours. He says that he wants to put these animals out in herds on the beaches so that they can live their own lives. I think about my artwork as it travels into the world, living its own life. Check out his video explanations of how these beasts work. Fascinating.

Leo Ray gives us joy and play and commentary and history and calligraphy and dreamscapes in his Infinite Painting. His canvases are all the same size and each one abuts the previous one to add to the inner dialog he is translating for us. There is a wonderful slide show of the painting you can visit with this link. The work ranges from abstract to cubist to surreal to realistic, freely combining texture, rhythm and color over the surfaces. There are over 100 canvases to date. He calls it a “public-access diary”. And isn’t that what all artists do when creating their work — releasing the inner to the outer?

Ragnar Kjartansson’s, The Visitors, left me spellbound when I saw his nine-screen performance at the Columbus Art Museum in Ohio. The performance combines video, music and poetry in a way that I have never before experienced. I floated through the space with a longing, a sadness, and a joy that stays with me to this day. This video link doesn’t really do justice to the experience in person. If you can imagine walking into a room with nine huge screens each showing one of the musicians and their instruments in separate rooms of a historic mansion you might get an inkling of the experience. The music builds and ebbs. The musicians move in and out of the rooms. I am still humming this evocative tune 2 years later.

As for me? I put together this little movie of the work I have done this year. It was a great year. I finished 14 pieces and I’m in process on three more. I led a 3-month festival (Stitched: Celebrating the ART of Quilting) in Memphis, taught three week-long workshops (Quilting By the Lake, Focus on Fiber and Art Quilt Tahoe), and took a brilliant workshop by Michael Brennand-Wood at the Shakerag Workshops in Sewanee, TN. I had a solo show at the Rockland Art Center in West Nyack, NY and created a proposal for a show devoted to our political realities (Stitched Dissent) that will travel to two different venues in 2020. Just in time for the vote.

Please vote in 2020.

Here’s a little summary slideshow that highlights some of my favorite moments.

Insights?

I know that I am inspired by reading. Reading feeds my inner voice and gives my artwork ballast. I know that I need to find beauty in everything to keep myself grounded. I know that sometimes my mind will not rest until I have worked things out in stitch. I know that the challenges ahead in our government, our environment and our health will affect the way I think and work. I feel like time is condensing and I am breathless and restless with the ticking sound of not enough hours in the day. I know that I need to learn to rest.

Best in stitches to you all. Thank you for taking the time to read thoughts .

No turning back

I had the privilege of spending a week at a Shakerag Workshop with Michael Brennand-Wood this past week. It was partially an escape from Memphis and the quilt festival that has entangled my spare moments and partially a way to peel back ossified habits and open up new space in my brain.

It worked on both accounts.

Fungi is an assemblage of quilt pieces, wire structures, wood, stitch and felt—A study in growth and emergence.

First, let me praise Shakerag Workshops. This place is a magical oasis in the hills of Tennessee that brings serious artists (both skilled and unskilled) and teachers to play with each other. The atmosphere is educated, welcoming and full of joy. And the food was from the gods. Go there. No, really, go there.

Michael’s class was called Random Precision: 3-Dimensional Line, Stitch, Structure and Light. We used drills, saws, glue, paint, thread, nails, twisty ties, wires and our thoughts to explore space, light and structure. Michael talked about building artwork physically but also conceptually. We considered the push and pull of dark and light, hard and soft, and structured and unstructured bits. It was a joy. And, it will change the way I look at my own work.

I have been eager to explore 3D qualities with my stitching. Through quilting I can build or deconstruct a flat surface that speaks to my fingers. The traveling thread becomes a narrative element that translates my thoughts. Now I will explore how that thread can build space, encapsulate ideas and stretch the boundaries.

Meek is a bundle of threads and wires.

Eek celebrates stitch and fabric by offering up samples to consider.

These figures and assemblages spoke to me. They tickle my fancy and release the prankster within. They breathe life and rhythm into my space.

Thank you Michael. One of the most generous teachers I have had.

many moons

I was not in a colorful mood. So this piece will linger on the boards for a while before I get back to it.

I came back from a number of trips last month with a swarm of images floating through my thoughts but no map to figure out how they go together. It was frustrating to feel so aimless. I looked around at the work that I had done prior to my trips and felt totally disconnected from them.

My friend Jeanne Seagle, a very talented artist here in Memphis said the following in an interview: “Make a lot of work. Put the good stuff in shows. Recognize the bad stuff, and put it in the closet. After a while maybe you can fix it. If not, you can still learn from it what not to do. Just don’t show it.“

After a few days and a number of puzzled thoughts I decided to be radical. I took out all of my older pieces lurking under the studio tables and made some judgements. Some still spoke to me about their intent and focus. Others did not. Some showed a learning curve in the stitching that no longer represents my work. Others were pieces that didn’t get done.

This piece never got done. It was an experiment with geometry and connections.

I chose a few and laid them out on the cutting board for some fun with rotary cutter.

Fun with my rotary cutter. No piece is sacred.

This piece, called Keeping up with the Dow Jones, was done in 2009. I’m over it.

Just that act of cutting up several pieces into 2.5” squares was a release from the aimlessness. I wasn’t sure where I was going to go with it but I knew it was the right step. Catharsis. Resolve…and a little panic.

After some mix and matching, twisting and turning I finally came up with a composition that seemed to hold together. I stitched the squares onto a canvas backing. All 420 of them.

And now the fun begins. My goal as an artist is to channel what is invisible into the visible. The work I do is intuitive and exploratory. I’m never quite sure what will result with a piece like this. I just know that I am channeling lots of different emotions and thoughts. Beauty, complexity, doubt, anger, worry, whimsy, calm and depth. They are all in there. The layering of stitch and fabric brings out the best (and worst) of me.

I’m going to call it Many Moons. Because that’s how long it will take to finish it and because its taken me many moons to get to this stage in my work.