perseverance

I've had this philodendron for over 30 years. It sits in a dark corner, needs about a cup of water every week and never complains. The roots wind around the old plastic pot as if in a dance. Periodically it drops a magnificently browned leave from its core. The stems are marked by the passing leaves with great sculptural detail. Then, in the Spring (how does it know?) it sends out a shiny new leaf that points straight to the sky. The texture is almost liquid, the color is from another planet of green. Time to wake up, smell the rain and reconfigure.

swimming up stream

swimming upstream, ©2013, Paula Kovarik

So many thoughts and directions going on in my life that I feel the urge to just dive into the deep and let the current take me. I decided to put that feeling to good use by working on this pattern I started a while back. I was trying to find a way to do a continuous line in quilting that created a school of fish. That didn't work but it did give me a good base for this pattern. I may try other colorways to see if I can make them more joyous. They look a bit wall-eyed to my taste. a perfect metaphor for how I feel. wall-eyed.

i love ironing

wrinkled, Paula Kovrarik, 2013

There is something very peaceful about ironing a large swath of fabric. In the past few days it has been a great calming device for me while balancing life's challenges and shutting down my business. Actually, I should say I am transferring my business to my able associate so there is some sense of continuity and calm. But still. It won't be me making so many decisions soon, just a tidying up and letting go...enough of a challenge to my control-freak nature to make my insides a little wobbly.

Ironing is a tonic to chaos. But when I saw this piece of fabric I thought I might preserve these wrinkles. The random pattern caused by the centrifugal force of the washing machine reminds me of my inner landscape.  Wrinkled, a little disheveled, moving forward, round and round and tossed into a new form. I may stitch these wrinkles and preserve them as a memory of this time.

scrapped

Earth Stories, scrapped. Paula Kovarik, 2013

Spent yesterday deciding to scrap about 8 weeks of work on a piece devoted to the SAQA exhibition, Earth Stories. Angst, terror, relief, joy, and trepidation pushed me toward the decision. How could I possibly give up? Why spend so much time on something that is not working? Am I overthinking? Where is the piece taking me? Why do I feel like I am swimming up stream on it? Maybe if I spend a few more hours working on it I can salvage it?

No.

It was clear as day that I was making it worse. So happily, and with a sense of relief, I put down the seam ripper, wadded it up and threw it on the "Let's Make Some Pillows" pile. Because once you cut up a piece into 12" squares and put some extra padding behind it, anything looks good.

Now looking forward to the real solution. A more ordered and thoughtful composition that speaks to my original intention.

too pretty

Paula Kovarik, 2013

As I was leaving the house a couple of days ago I snapped this composition of some weeds growing in one of the planters on the deck. The little snow-frosted hearts were too hallmark for my taste but did serve to remind me that we are surrounded by beauty. The swirls of grass have inspiring lines.