Sutured

I talk in my sleep these days. I think it’s all about watching and reading too much news and processing the insanity of our times. One night Jim said I sounded like a drill sergeant. I guess I am trying to fix things.

Let month I made this piece. I called it Disruptors in honor of the dialogue that is happening around disfunction and malaise. I intentionally made this chaotic and layered it with stitch and pattern.

I wasn’t happy with the results. It felt forced and cartoonish. (not that I don’t love a good cartoon) So I decided to cut it up.

The first cut is always the hardest. This practice has taught me that I can always find a way to a new solution. If I don’t it isn’t world shattering. There are too many world shattering things going on right now to worry about “ruining” a piece that I spent time on.

I decided to cut it into 1/2” and 1/4” strips so that I could stitch them back together to create a new pattern. What a pretty nest.

I looked around for more raw material so that I would have more contrasting colors to combine. I sacrificed a beast to this exploration.

I’m reading “The Women” by Kristin Hannah which is about nurses during the Vietnam war. There is a lot of talk about suturing wounds and mending broken bodies. Sewing these scraps together to create new shapes felt like triage to me. I think the world could use a battalion of nurses right now.

Sutured, 40” x 44”, Paula Kovarik, 2025

The piece undulates.

I may turn it horizontally.

mend

I cut things up and put them back together.

It’s process not product right? So why do I save all these “products” in my store room when I can be inspired by them to create new pieces? My work is about transformation and discovery so what stops me from using what is at hand? Nothing. So, let’s get on with it.

I started with this piece. It’s called AHA! moments. I made it in 2010. It has traveled a bit, been shown a bit and has been part of my portfolio for these past 14 years. The fabric is printed with a black and white drawing I did and then enlarged, daubed with dye and stitched. I love this piece. It’s about how the brain organizes and stores ideas.

The second piece is called Layered Chaos. I made this piece two years ago in response to the chaos we are all witnessing in the news. My goal is to merge the two.

They complement each other in a way that inspires me. Those little orange dots in the white piece are reflected in the white dots and dashes in the black piece. They are part of my stitching vocabulary.

First I had to disassemble AHA! Moments from its secondary role as a beast in my installation called the Herd. See a story about that here.

I wanted to cut holes into the dark piece that would allow the white piece to show through. Here I am using white paper to experiment with where the holes might be. I wanted them to travel across the piece in a random fashion. I wanted the final white pieces to look like patches. I soon realized that I would have to cut the white piece in half vertically to show more of the drawing on each side in the final composition.

Then I had to start cutting. It was a scary moment, I’ll have to admit. I had to keep reminding myself that it is all about the process and if the end product didn’t turn out I would still have the raw material to create something else. Here’s the result of the first cuts. The middle image shows the holes cut into the black piece and the right hand image shows what happens when I cut the white piece in half I could show more of the drawing.

Then the fun begins. My basic concept with this piece was to convey the idea of mending and transformation. Nature does that, so why can’t we? As I stitched the white pieces into the black it felt active and purposeful. Like that darkness really needed some of those new ideas.

I love all this detail. The free-motion cross-hatching gives the piece a scratchy energy that appeals to me.

Still a work in progress. Here’s where it stands for now. I’m still thinking about how much white should overtake the black. The piece measures about 65” x 65” for now.

Mending. Transformation. Our backyard is full of examples of one thing taking over others. Rebirthing new miracles. Mending what is injured.

I wrote a book

At Play in the Garden of Stitch

At Play in the Garden of Stitch—thoughts that come while eyeing the needle. 

Published! Available Now.

I put it on paper. It’s now in book form. This is not a quilt.

I spent part of my Covid year writing, analyzing and illustrating my techniques and artwork. After fifteen years of creating and teaching, it was time to tell my story and share my process in a more formal way. 

This is a book of ideas and exercises for those who use stitch in their artwork. What seems like magic are merely (some simple) step-by-step exercises that will lead you to your own creations. 

This is the story of how I work and think as I make new quilts. It contains both successes and failures as both results can lead to finished quilts. One of my favorite exercises is to chop up a finished quilt to re-arrange and re-imagine a new piece working with elements I like and scrapping those I loathe.

As the great Miles Davis says: do not fear mistakes; there are none.
As I like to say: Art is found in the process. And stitching can take you there.

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The book contains lavish illustrations of quilts from my students and myself. For many of these, I demonstrate approaches to using stitch as an element of design and art. To understand my process, I include essays from this journal that reveal how I follow the thread or pursue an idea. 

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Order “At Play” from any number of bookstores including Barnes and Noble, Target, Indiebound, Discover books and more—such as Amazon. And, if you do find that this book has inspired you to try some new ways to create in stitch, please let me know by leaving a review or sending me an email. I would really appreciate it.

If you are interested in stitch and how to express yourself through free-motion quilting, this book will lead you gently down your own creative path. The secret is starting simple and staying at it.

I want to send out a bucket of thanks to my friend, Kathleen Loomis, for her help in making this book a reality. Her patient review of the content clarified my thoughts and made it a better book. Thanks so much Kathleen.