Karen Paust - Bead and Button Magazine

“I love my mobiles. They are my
favorite things,” says Paust. It’s no
wonder Paust is partial to them.
With creations so lifelike, they only
need the animation of a breeze to
complete the illusion.
“As an artist, I don’t really categorize
myself,” she says. “For me, it
is important to explore all types of
mediums and be open to evolving. I
keep a journal to sketch and write
down poems, dreams, and ideas,
which can materialize into beaded
pieces, paintings, sculptures, knitted
sculptures, or wearable pieces.”
>> In the neckpiece Autumnal
Equinox, the elements are so
lifelike that the sunflower
dazzles even when viewed from
the back. Paust doesn’t stint
on the flower’s sepals any more
than she would on its petals.
Photo by T.E. Crowley
Across the country and back
Looking to expand her horizons,
Paust moved to Santa Barbara,
California, in 1988. “I wanted an
adventure,” she says. “But it was
difficult being an artist in Southern
California. I had three jobs to pay
the rent and very little time to work
on my beading.”
Then, a wildfire swept through
her neighborhood, and Paust lost
everything. All her beadwork went
up in smoke, except five pieces she
had sent to be photographed for
publication.
Word got out through Alice
Scherer’s beading newsletter about
Paust’s ordeal. No sooner had the
item appeared than Paust began
receiving packages of beads. “It was
like Christmas,” she recalls. “For
months afterwards I received small
parcels and encouraging notes.”
Despite the support, it was time
to return to Pennsylvania. With
more time to focus on her beadwork,
she received more recognition.
Her carefully wrought pieces
attracted collectors, and the Mobilia
Gallery in Cambridge, Massachusetts,
and Julie Artisans’ Gallery in
New York began to represent her.
In her studio
We’ve finished our tea, and Paust
invites me down to her studio. A tall
cabinet holds a splendid assortment
of beads, ordered by hue. There are
pots of crochet and knitting needles,
jars of buttons, even a container of
cast-off beaded insects, leaves, and
Of her Spring
in the Woods
neckpiece, Paust
says, “On a springtime hike, I
came across a Luna moth that had
just emerged from its cocoon and
was drying its wings. I thought it
would be challenging to bead a
neckpiece with the moth and the
early-spring flowers that were blooming.”
flowers that didn’t make the cut. She
dumps them out and sorts through
them, pointing out what failing
made her abandon each one.
Paust then demonstrates her
favorite way to bead: standing up
with her beadwork perched on a
chin-high windowsill.
“It’s the most comfortable way
for me to work because the beads
are right at eye level and the light is
good,” she explains, laughing a bit
because of how unusual it looks.
A few of her bead paintings hang
on the wall, and I stop to admire one.
Photo by T.E. Crowley
>> In Trying to Root, a surreal figure – half woman, half
carrot – is planted among common plants – sunflower, thistle,
thorn apple, morning glory, wisteria, and beet. Paust uses a
pointillist command of the color spectrum in this portrayal,
dappling the carrot woman’s skin with purple, red, and green.
“I love beads because they are the
perfect medium to illustrate the way
the universe is made of tiny bits of
energy,” she says. I’d venture that
Paust’s studio buzzes with such
energy. After a joyful farewell, I
leave Paust to return to the moth or
wherever her boundless creative
energy leads. w
Contact Karen Paust in care of
Bead&Button, or visit her website,
www.karenpaust.com, scheduled to
debut in early September. Contact
Pam O’Connor at pampal@msn.com.
Photo by T.E. Crowley
beadandbutton.com | October 2006 117