When is enough enough?

I stitch a lot. And I have a lot of raw materials that can be stitched.

So I do.

I stitch.

I collect scraps of my quilts that have been chopped up to create new work. Most of them already have stitching and batting and backing so the work is chunkier, more detailed and textural when I use the scraps.

These are some of the quilts that went under the knife this past year. They live on in new work.

A number of the scraps looked like leaves. The toothy quality of those scraps gave me a starting point. I had an idea of creating a jungle of objects.

A number of the scraps looked like leaves. The toothy quality of those scraps gave me a starting point. I had an idea of creating a jungle of objects.

After assembling the scraps I started stitching to make them more consistently textured. The details add action to the piece and connect disparate elements. When I connect the scrap pieces I usually butt the pieces together and over-stitch with a decorative stitch or free motion stitching.

I do love how this section has face, a leaf that could be a feather and a dragon.

So about this time I have to ask myself when is enough enough? I admit that this texture looks wacko. I mean it to be disturbing and frantic. I think my stitching is taking a journey through chaos these days. Does extra detail bring coherence? Am I channeling this confusion to release tension? It just feels right to me.

We Don’t Really Know, Do We?, 27” x 33”, Paula Kovarik

I’m not sure if it is done. Or if it needs more, or if I will cut it up and start again.

Time will tell.

if at first …

trying trying again …

I had this idea long ago that I could create floating globes that would hang in space and allow viewers to insert their heads into them for a different sensory experience. (See It didn’t work for another go at this idea.) For the past few weeks I have been thinking about meditation and isolation and how important alone time is to me. Sometimes I have to shut it all off and just breathe. What if I could create a globe that would isolate me from that emotional and physical noise?

This second try started with a reworked piece that didn’t work. I had all these scraps that were aching to be put together. But the result was just cacophony not simplicity.

I didn’t want the isolation chamber to be all chaos so I created some new raw materials with canvas and black thread. The black thread story line added more narrative to the piece.

The new black and ivory canvas wedges were too stark so I added stitching to them to complement the triangle wedges.

I lined each panel with lace to obscure the chaos outside with a calmer feeling inside.

I sewed all the wedges together and ended up with a loopy globe.

When I reinforced the top and bottom edges with a pvc pipe insert it hangs fairly evenly.

I’m still working out some details. I embroidered a strip of fabric on the inside that says calm_down_calm_down____calm_down__calm_down. And I am rigging the globe so that it can hang from a hook at head height.

So, now, if the news is making me crazy, or my thoughts are too scattered, I can retreat into my own little isolation chamber. A quiet space.

Do you find that you need a space to escape?

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.

Up and ready

Stitched Intent is currently on display in the Mitchell Gallery at Southern Illinois University-Carbondale campus. The show will run until November 6, just in time for voting. Masks are required and social distancing will be enforced. Museum hours: Tuesday-Friday: 10am-4pm, Saturday: 1pm-4pm. Carbondale is about 6 hours south of Chicago, 1.5 hours east of St. Louis and only 4 hours north of Memphis. Looking for a road trip? Stop by and leave me a note.

I love a dark passionate red, don’t you?

SIC-C is my alma mater. I studied design there and started my life with my husband in the surrounding countryside. We farmed tomatoes and peppers and squash on our 10 acre plot. We designed and built a passive solar home, studied organic farming, and tried to live off the land. We were very poor. But the optimism we had for a better future was never stronger. In those days the topics of solar energy, organic food, conservation and environmental protection were getting some traction. The EPA passed laws protecting our land and air and water. The White House had solar panels on its roof. Education was still affordable. And people started thinking that spraying pesticides and herbicides was not really the best idea for our health.

The space in this gallery is wonderful. Each piece has its own environment.

The space in this gallery is wonderful. Each piece has its own environment.

Things have changed. My show reflects some of the angst I feel about how things are going.

I Watch Too Much TV News will play on a loop while the show is up. 14.5 feet of media madness in one little box. Take a seat and rest awhile.

Galleries are better when there are people in them. I’m hoping that at least some take the time to see the show. The museum staff has been very helpful by posting a comprehensive online version on their Facebook page. But nothing beats being up close and personal to works created with fabric and stitch. These works have intentional meanings. These works left pin marks on my fingers. These works call for action.

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