Sand in my shoes

As a child my family would travel to lower Lake Michigan for summer holidays. I still remember that slightly moldering smell of my great aunt’s cabins, moss hanging off the roof and long stairways down to some of the most brilliant beaches of my life. Part of the journey to those cabins was watching with fascination and horror as we passed the steel mills and industrial smokestacks in and around Gary, Indiana. There was a smell of sulfur in the air and a certain dread of having to stop there while traveling through. The landscape was muscular, apocalyptic and wholly man-made.

Lake Michigan beaches are crowded with families this weekend.

The Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore hugs this coast and nestles in with the muscle-bound industry here at the base of the lake.

Botanists, politicians, scientists and neighbors all fought for the unique ecosystems represented here. Bogs and wetlands, black oak forests carpeted with ferns, rivers, ponds and of course, the dunes. Mountains of dunes. Dunes that swallow trees, dunes that shelter wildlife, dunes that build and move relentlessly with the action of the wind. Dunes that actually created beaches for the people in Chicago.

My walk today was in a black oak forest at the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore

I will come to know this area better by spending these two weeks in residency. The National Lakeshore is a string of pearls, preserved and collected piece by piece into an assemblage of unique ecosystems. Though I am still stiff with judgment of how the land has been treated in the past, I see some reluctance on the part of the park rangers to condemn the industry in their midst. I am hopeful that the scientists are paying attention and that the politicians are working hard to save even more of the natural landscape.

Can industry honor the earth and provide jobs at the same time? How does nature adapt to intrusion? The employees of this national lakeshore are here to witness and maintain the sweet origins of the landscape. They educate the public, observe the changing landscapes, and continue the work of the people before them who recognized the richness and diversity of this unique ecosystem.

all packed up

I'm taking this road show north. What tools are essential?

Leaving behind: that ergonomically correct table and chairs, the custom ironing platform, movable cutting table, large design walls, backyard garden, fabric stash, home library, large screen computer, a good music system, family and familiarity.

Taking with me: scraps of fabric, my sister-in-laws machine (because my Bernina is being temperamental), Black thread, white thread, a pouch of notions, batting, three books of poetry, my camera, my ipad and some scrap paper. 

I am not taking any works-in-process. I am not taking preconceived ideas. I am not sure it will all work. But it all fits neatly into this tub. I wonder if trimming excess will build inspiration?


letting go

Two of my pieces left their spots on my design wall this past week. They travel to new eyes with an invisible thread to my thoughts.

Don't Go in the Basement, 17" x 16.25" ©2015 Paula Kovarik

Don't Go in the Basement was inspired by a drawing by Jeremy. The wide-mouthed, eyes-focused grin monster leaps out and anchors the lower right corner of this small piece. It is one of the first of my children's drawings projects and is dear to my heart. I know the new owner also loves the piece so I am satisfied it is where it belongs.

Move That Thing, 16" x 11.5", ©2015 Paula Kovarik

My friend Etta owns Move That Thing. These quirky, moving-parts bodies remind me to jitter along when I see it. The talented artist, Amelia, drew the wonderful fish-eat-fish pair at the bottom right. And that sun in the upper right is by the ever sunny Derin. These two artists inspire me to let the inner child out every so often.

I will miss these pieces. When people ask me why I make art I often say it is because I have to.
I am eager to create. I also like to show it, share it and let it journey on. This gives it a life of its own.

big blank wall

Distractions, responsibilities and confusion have set my studio in stasis. The design wall has a big blank hole on it. About two weeks ago I took out one of those precious pieces of cloth I have collected and pinned it to the board. It is a piece of hand woven linen. With slubs and weight and presence. I found it in a junk store in Germany and instantly knew that I had to have this cloth in my work.

Problem is the preciousness. How to deconstruct, define, deepen (and defile?) the cloth with my visions? Those little hand stitches that join the two panels down the center of the cloth have to stay in honor of the weaver. The slubs provide their own layer of texture and depth. Stitching, marking and moving beyond the original cloth challenges my resolve.

Usually when I come to this stage in a work I start with a clear concept. A couple of the ideas in my sketch stash could work with this cloth. But which one? Which is worthy? Why?

Placemat practice, Paula Kovarik

For now I will experiment on smaller cloth. Stained and tattered placemats with scalloped edges present a pallet without risk. Without gravitas. The big blank wall will have to wait. I feel the breath of it whispering.

Texture studies, Paula Kovarik

Sew first, plan second

When Kathleen Loomis sat down to write her book about designing quilts she must have had a lot of fun because this book is chock-a-block full of hints and happiness. She has taken a simple traditional block, the Rail Fence block, and turned it on its ear. Never will you see so many variations of striped blocks.

Not only is Kathleen a master quilter, she is also a seasoned teacher and writer. She speaks to my heart when she says Sew First, Plan Second. I've never been patient enough to sit down and plan, map and build a quilt. The few times that I did that the life went out of my studio. I felt like I was a prisoner wrapped in freezer paper. Just can't do it. Kathleen's experimental layouts and clear diagrams of different settings make thinking about your own design as simple as, well, jumping a fence.

But wait! There are bonus sections. Kathleen generously gives us some very sage advise on choosing colors, mixing values and using focus fabrics. Hints for assembly give us a hint on how she approaches her own work. Her questions and answers will serve beginners and experienced quilters alike.

So, if you are also impatient to get it going, take a look at this book. Through easy to follow diagrams, samples and questions, Kathleen will make designing your own quilt an easy and exciting new venture.

See Kathleen's blog here.
See her award-winning work here.

Reading through Kathleen's book these past couple of days made me get out some of those scrap rail fence blocks in my stash. I think I may have moved too fast! Maybe I need to re-read a couple of chapters.

Reading through Kathleen's book these past couple of days made me get out some of those scrap rail fence blocks in my stash. I think I may have moved too fast! Maybe I need to re-read a couple of chapters.

Here is one of Kathleen's rail fence quilts, this one all in plaid.

Here is one of Kathleen's rail fence quilts, this one all in plaid.