It didn't work.

I’ve had this idea for years that I could build a quilt in a globe form and make it into an isolation chamber. And boy, are we isolated. My dreams had a room full of these things that people could put their heads into. They might see the inside of the outside idea. The undergrowth of the wild surroundings.

So I studied globes, brushed up on my geometry, ordered some paper globes, cut out patterns, and experimented with stiffening substrates. I sewed the substrates into fabric. Glued stiffeners to the underside of pieces. Experimented with zipper and hook and eye closures. Built stainless steel rings for support. Developed a pattern big enough for a head.

This quilt, Stream of Consciousness, seemed like the perfect candidate for my isolation chamber. The quilt is a series of 4” squares with drawings that I did with a fabric pen in one sitting. I then sandwiched those drawings with colorful fabric and quilted them all together.

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Here’s what’s left of the quilt after cutting out the orange peel sections.

Then I thought I had it. The patterns worked in muslin. I was ready for prime time. I sliced up the Stream of Consciousness quilt for the body of my first isolation chamber. Sewed it all together, tore it apart, sewed it all together with some interfacing, tore it apart, sewed it all together with some Buckrum, tore it apart and started building cages.

I’m not good with metal. And, by this time, I am getting frustrated. So I set it aside. And used it as a punching bag for a couple of weeks.

Today I realized I have to give it up. Start fresh. Do another one with studied engineering solutions. This one is just too overworked.

The globe hangs in the middle of my studio in its unfinished form. I use it as a punching bag on bad days. It’s quiet inside. Stops the whirring in my brain.

I’ve been adding more stitching with each iteration of assembly. I’m loving this layering of detail.

I do have some pretty strong ideas on what I will do with the next one though.

There were days when I felt deflated. Here’s what happened to the muslin version of the globe. She looks much calmer than I feel.

It’s process not product, it’s process not product, it’s process not product.

I had to stop thinking

Here’s a way to stop the endless news dipping. Turn off the Instagram pages, close your ears to news anchors, take out the sketch book, scribble, then stitch. I had to stop thinking this week. I had to disappear from day in day out headlines and distractions. It started with a What If?

What if I only used straight lines and angular corners when drawing a line that never ended. Fill up the page then turn the page 90 degrees to fill it up again. What would I discover?

Here’s the drawing

Filling in the intersections yields a background foreground pattern.

On to stitching

A square of raw canvas, some wool batting and my trusty black thread started me off. I use YLI 40 wt. cotton thread. It has a deep black color and a strong presence. You can’t miss it when stitching on a light background. It’s all about commitment right?

The nice thing about this exercise is that it stopped me thinking about anything but where the thread wanted to go. I had to anticipate the turns. Here’s the base stitching.

I find that the stiffness of the raw canvas and the loft of the wool batting gives me a surface that has both body and resiliency.

Next step, fill in the blanks. This step was like finding treasure.

Choosing which blank areas would be filled in allowed some shapes to have more definition while others could fade away. Letting the pattern meander across the surface brought some active negative spaces and some interesting positive shapes.

What are you looking at?

Then I started seeing faces. It’s a very common thing with me (see this post for more on that). So I added dots for eyes.

What a powerful thing a dot is.

It looks like some of these guys are asking the same questions I have.

Here’s where it stands now. I may add more shaded areas. I may add more dots. I may cut it up and make something else out of it.

I See Faces, 25” x 28”, Paula Kovarik

Taking a break from thinking made me feel a little more settled this week. I recommend it.

speechless

Pandemic, murder, demonstrations, voter supression, police brutality and…coming around the bend….climate change. The stress load is heavier and heavier. I’m not sure I can even line up two or three sentences that parse how I am feeling. I’m speechless.

I can only show you what I am working on. This piece is called Silos. Silos as in we are all separating into our own narratives. Silos like how we store up for the future. Silos like when there is a surplus. Silos as in dysfunctional business environments. Silos like media streams that only speak to the loyal. Silos as in isolation.

It started with masks.

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And a quilt I no longer wanted.

She Didn’t Have the Password. 2020.

That got cut up.

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Into head shapes.

And added to a newly created background.

Maybe next time I post here I will figure out what to say.

What are you working on?

They say

It’s never easy, they say. Struggle comes with rewards, they say. It will all come clear with focus, they say. Put your head down and work harder, they say. Trust your gut, they say.

Get out the rotary cutter, I say.

About two months ago I was between projects and didn’t know which way I was going as a next step. I had this ragged piece of thin cotton that I kept trying to iron flat . For some reason the wrinkles wouldn’t go away. So I decided to stitch them in permanently.

I just kept adding texture and color and pattern with stitch until I had a piece that was about 3 x 4 foot that made no sense at all. It was chaos and wrinkles and pretty little textures. A study in thread on a wrinkled piece of fabric. Ho hum.

Then I dreamed about pink rivers. Don’t know why. Just did.

The textures in the cloth reminded me of topographical maps and gridded land masses. The wrinkles stood in for the rivers. So I got out the rotary cutter and sliced and diced and added pink to the stitched cloth. I layered those squares with organza over a vintage tablecloth full of flowers because I had decided that I wanted beauty in my life that day, not worry. (I’m so tired of bad news.)

The squares looked great on the tablecloth and the organza gave me the opportunity to let the rivers flow underground. But when I stitched it all together it was a mess. The organza didn’t want to be layered, the tablecloth was wobbly and the squares of texture ended up looking like a bad craft project gone wrong. YUK.

The wrinkling, wobbling layers did not match my vision of a unified surface.

Enter the rotary cutter. Because within each disaster is a masterpiece. They say.

I took the squares with me on vacation and added hand-stitched details. And, I really do like the way they look. They are intimate, abstract and multi-layered.

Upon return to the studio I saw the leftover piece of textured wrinkled cloth and decided I would combine it with a quilt I made (and never finished) 15 years ago. The combination of the white textured cloth and the subtly colored quilt was intriguing. Using both as raw materials I cut them, combined them, stitched over them and sewed it all together. One day it seemed great.

But the next day I realized it was all wrong.

Though I really do love all that texture, it was hard to focus on this piece. No center of interest, no pathway for the eyes.

So I got out the rotary cutter again.

Now I have these little “masterpieces” that are traveling across the design board asking for a home. I have some new ideas for them this week, and probably will have more ideas for them next week.

They say if the fabric is ugly, cut it up into small pieces.  If it’s still ugly, you haven’t cut it small enough. I don’t think these fabrics are ugly. But I do know that they haven’t found their permanent home yet.

It’s all about the process, they say.