LAURA WARNE
Graphic Design | Communications | Art
A Natural History
In late 2024 I began a series of butterfly-shaped art quilts “pinned” inside display shadow boxes and under glass domes. They are my ode to my daughter and how I wish I could somehow stop time during these glorious years of her childhood, when she is changing so fast it takes my breath away. Since becoming a mother, I think a lot about memory and the passage of time; these pieces are my humble attempt to freeze both in time.




























Kintsugi
2024 and 2025 brought a fair share of unexpected twists and turns. I've had to move twice, and without access to a studio, I began picking up a paintbrush again. I began working on a folding card table with some old paints and boards. Art has always been the thing that gets me through difficult times. Another unexpected source of comfort has been the Japanese concept of kintsugi.
Kintsugi has helped me re-frame difficult times. Instead of seeing the messiness of life as a flaw, or something to be ashamed of, maybe those experiences make me a better version of myself. I know the challenges I’ve faced have made me a more compassionate and empathetic person. I am someone who extends grace to people, because I know how hard life can be. I am a better person because of my struggles, not despite them.
"If a cup breaks, we can choose to glue it together as if it was never broken. Or we can allow the cracks to be honored for how they change an object. Maybe even make it more beautiful."

First Day of Preschool, 2025
Baby Quilts
"I've always loved old quilts. I love seeing the stitches of the original maker and appreciating the work that went into them. I like to imagine the woman (or women) who made them. I also love seeing the signs of wear and tear that tell me the quilt has been used and loved."
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Quilts have inspired my artistic practice for many years; I wondered, why not literally use them as the starting point for art? I know many old quilts end up tucked away in closets and drawers. By incorporating them into my artwork, I can give them new life. I also love the idea of engaging in an artistic collaboration across time, with an unknown maker.
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Quilts are a unique art form because they are fundamentally functional. They have both a maker and a user; someone who literally slept under it, snuggled up with it, and may have even dragged it across the floor. Imagine if paintings were treated the same way! I love seeing evidence of use because it is such a special part of the quilting tradition. Quilters usually want their quilts to be loved and used for warmth and comfort.
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There is also an artistic tradition of making quilts to celebrate the arrival of a baby. The fact that an old quilt was made for a child holds special significance for me. I look for one that speaks to me on secondhand sites like eBay and wait eagerly for it to arrive. Once it does, I begin to imagine the composition.
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These quilts were originally made for an unknown child who was loved and celebrated. I rework them to celebrate my own daughter's arrival and childhood: her wide grin on the first day of preschool; her walking along a path wearing fairy wings. These are the small moments I want to savor and celebrate.
I know I am far from the first woman to put skill and time into a quilt as an expression of love for a child. By using an old quilt that has been loved by both the maker and user, it acknowledges the many women and children who came before us, that we are a part of something much larger that will continue long into the future.
Fairy Wings, 2025
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