Quilts=Art=Quilts opens on Saturday

Two for the price of one! The opening reception of Quilts=Art=Quilts and American Quilts: History and Art is on Saturday this week at the Schweinfurth Art Center in Auburn, NY. My piece,  Incoming, will be showing in Q=A=Q along with works by 51 artists from across the world. The American Quilts: History and Art exhibit features historical quilts from the collection of the International Quilt Studies Center & Museum in Nebraska.

If you are in the Auburn area it is a great opportunity to see some of the best contemporary quilt art being done today.

Incoming will be showing at the Schweinfurth Art Center, 205 Genesee Street, Auburn, NY
Opening Reception: Saturday, October 29, 4 - 6 PM

It's magic time!

Arrowmont dining hall

I had the privilege of teaching a wonderful group of stitchers at Arrowmont for the past week. I am still overwhelmed by their talent, their insights and their willingness to laugh and share. I wish I had a picture of the food that was served, the music played and the wandering bear that we heard about. Arrowmont is a place of magic for artists.

We experimented with texture, line quality, composition and just plain fun. It was hard to keep up with what everyone created. There was such a flurry of activity.

Below are some of the practice pieces we played with during our stay. I don't have a pic of all of them, each of the artists created at least 4-5 practice squares and came away with a plan for how they might apply what they learned to their own work. I'm looking forward to seeing the results.

Though the chairs were a challenge the workspace was generous and light filled.

As one wise woman told me prior to my slide presentation...It's magic time! Bringing this talented group of individuals together for 5 days was a gift I will long remember.

travel and identity

Traveling alone puts my inner dialog on speaker phone.

When I traveled to Chicago for the opening at ZIA Gallery this past weekend the speaker phone was kept ringing. Conversations ranged from Why am I doing this? Who cares? Who am I? What does that left elbow ache really mean? Why am I doing this? What if I tried it this way? Wouldn't it be cool if I could listen in to that traffic cops thoughts? Why am I doing this? What's for dinner? to Why am I doing this?

Yep, Why am I doing this? was No. 1 on the hit parade. And I don't have an answer for it.

Upon entering ZIA Gallery these two pieces, Punditocracy and Incoming, take center stage.

I had as many questions as elevator buttons.

Dazed and confused.

If you get a chance to see the show at ZIA (open until July 30) let me know if it gave you any insights or changed your inner dialog in any way. Your thoughts might give me some insight into my own conversations.

preparation and separation anxiety

This piece and 14 of its brethren are traveling to Chicago for a solo show. It has taken me two full weeks of details to get them all prepped, packaged and shipped. And now it is done. The only thing left to do is worry about them being away from the studio on their own.

Incoming by Paula Kovarik, 31H x 41W, 2016

For those of my readers who are near Winnetka, Illinois: please take a break from basking in the sun, sipping lemonade and playing summer games to take in the show at ZIA Gallery. I would love to meet you on opening night.

ZIA | Gallery
548 Chestnut, Winnetka, IL
June 25 - July 30, 2016

Opening Reception
Saturday, June 25th, 5-7pm

this memory doesn't fade

Rock star smile.

Rock star smile.

Mom died three years ago today. Her buoyancy, fearlessness and resolve astounded me. She learned new art forms in her eighties and pursued them with vigor. She spread love and acceptance to all around her without judgement. She could bait a hook at the same time as steering the boat. She loved romance novels, bacon-fried potatoes, fabric in all colors and hearing from her sons. She would get in her car and head off without destination just to get a handle on what was out there. She was my mentor and sideline cheerleader.

I miss her every day.

fading shadows.

Memories fade, but not these. She is sharp in my memory. She talks to me in my dreams. I can feel her hands on my shoulders.

I miss her every day.