Inspirations

I am a collector of images and ideas.

Artists

The list is long, longer each day I discover someone else making incredible work. I linger on all of them. Here are six from a list of thousands.

Nature

I have to be in nature to be healthy. Sometimes I stand in shock and awe because of the beauty and mystery. I might have to buy more photo storage for the thousands of photos I have of these miracles.

Books

I read all and everything—Science, Mystery, SciFi, History, Maps, Essays, you name it I want to read it. These six are from my list of thousands that stuck with me after reading.

Cracks

I walk every day the weather allows it. Cracks in the sidewalks, cracks in the streets, cracks on walls speak the language of transformation. Here are six, some don’t show up unless it rains.

Things on roofs

A lot of my art is about communication, how it happens and when it doesn’t. These images remind me of how many ways we reach to the sky to capture the stories floating by.

Where do you get your ideas and images?

Send me an email

Abundance

In these times of uncertainty and worry I spend as much time as I can surrounded by nature. Spring is a time of abundance and the gardens are full of examples. I trust the earth to push back on our species ill-advised disregard of the whole in service of the small-minded. Calls for political actions, marches to protect our water and ban pollution, reports on the destruction of natural areas render me speechless but determined.

Our garden in Memphis

I’ll be teaching at the Alegre Retreat in Gateway, Colorado next week. The environment there is colored in oranges, reds and dramatic blues.

Last week I was in the Mississippi Delta traveling country roads through small and large communities. The live oaks in Mississippi are dramatic examples of life lived long. Their overarching branches dipping to the ground spoke to me of ancient ways, virulent strength and abiding patience.

Mississippi delta highway flowers and live oaks

Spring is a short season. I breathe deep in hope and beauty to reassure myself that we will come to our senses. And that the cracks we are seeing in the fiber of our environments will heal.

fraud, fallout and fervor

I spent last week full of imposter-syndrome doubt. Looking around the studio I saw past efforts, early experiments and final failures. The cacophony of the surroundings not only confused me it also impeded my thought process. I kept staring blindly at the design board and finding ways to avoid anything at all having to do with making art. I walked out and sought solace in distractions. Database cleanup? yup. Instagram surfing? too much. Fabric folding and organizing? Ad nauseam. Asking questions like “what’s the point?” oh yes.

Fallout

I am a determined artist. I believe that process will bring insight and stalling is part of it. Though those gaps in activity engender a feeling of inadequacy I must try, discard, try, discard, try, discard. I have to be relentless. When I could find an opening in the doubt cloud I worked on this piece called Surge. It’s about deterioration as well as growth. Inspired by rotting wood, colonies of organisms and pathways of growth, it gave me a map to follow in my panic. Yes, it is a kind of panic for me. A feeling that I can’t come up with something original, something that transcends the obvious.

Surge, Paula Kovarik, 2022

Fervor

Nature has it right every time. As an example I have this magical driveway. Every time it rains the cracks in the surface are revealed. They fascinate me. The organic shapes and fissures tell stories. It’s like the earth below is trying to burst out. They beckon me with the mystery of that transformation.

I have begun the process of interpreting these magical messages—it’s a start for a new map. I don’t know where it will take me but I feel the fervor again. Reminding myself that it is process not product that is important.

I will start again.

exuberant distractions

How can I resist these colors? Why am I sitting in front of computer instead of grazing idly through the parkscapes gathering up the color? Fall beckons. Make haste to the outdoors.

Hardy Ageratum and Henry's Garnet Sweetspire.

Hardy Ageratum and Henry's Garnet Sweetspire.

I will continue the hand stitching on this piece (The grass was greener) outside, in the lingering spectacle.

The grass was greener, detail, Paula Kovarik, 2015

A potential stitch pattern? Hyacinth Bean vine takes over the back deck.

awestruck

Our yard is bursting with azaleas, irises, bluebells, salvia, hostas, lilies and mint.

But we don't have any peonies. So I slipped over to the neighbors yard and snipped a couple of buds from their prolific bush. Don't tell anyone.

Hard to imagine how this species decided to put so many stamens in one pocket. Looks like a party going on.