she smelled like a Four Roses factory

This a cursory example of a coptic bound, pretty raw book. I made two for friends who tend bar, and needed a place to keep their recipes. The cover is a repurposed book, and the insides are graph paper, lined on back. They each have a moniker placard, some tabbed cards to use at will, and elastic to close, with an envelope for recipes written, on the fly. 

an excerpt from Music for Chameleons by: Truman Capote

Dear, please deal with the negative space I left

     It started with a ledger I found,

preserved in its original plastic, to

make a home planner/vision for a 

friend.  

     Using text books and other cut-outs, 

I provided things native to his land, 

leaving space for adding and subtracting. 

     The subtracting part is important,

so rather than glue, I sliced the pages

with a utility knife (trying not to cut 

the next page), and placed the cutouts' 

corners in the slots (remove at will).

     My favorite feature uses three 

similar layouts to the house, implying 

a garden using velcro on certain 

spaces on the plots, and providing a 

library of plants of varying sizes and 

colors, with velcro on their backs, in 

the envelope. 

Practice Makes Perpetual Motion

      

     I made this journal for one of a very few people I know who keep track. Memory is difficult... 
    I began keeping a daily log of one liners, but it's only a slight hint.
    Anyway, this is a repurposed elementary school "practice book". The book block (above) is coptic bound, and glued to the covers by the end pages at the beginning and end of the block. The covers are joined by more of the repurposed purse leather. The leather is concealed between the back of the front cover and first end page, and comes around the back cover. The spine has a spot to index the book. 

"The instant of petrified violence that sometimes foreruns a summer storm saturated the hushed yard." -T. Capote

for a friend who understands the petrified violences in the yard before the storm, and the other kinds.

The Analog Nature of Planes

A repurposed book, originally from 1929,  I gutted this copy of Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo. Using leather from an old purse I connect the covers by using a Japanese Stab Binding design and waxed thread. The inside pages are blank and are made from old white paper bags, cut to make pages, while maintaining their creases. There are no end pages because the beauty of the original book deserves display, and the Japanese Stab binding is exposed with the wear of the purse leather.  

You look so strange as a continuous wave
Reaching and sweeping
The valleys were our all night diner and you were always up in the air
Have you heard of wait and see? These things take time
and all the other cliches
I was going to show you life as a full object, not the dispensation of memory
I wanted the momentary beauties to approach infinity
Don't medicate me; it can't be that bad
and all the other cliches
Let me be specific
I am in literal hell while you run a marathon through the pathos of your past
I spoke with the devil, (his proximity not at all coincidence), and he let me in on it
Regret is his irony, and distraction his imitation of beauty. 

The Hard Part is Over

To know you and not believe in you is a peaceful acquiescence to heritage, while wanting more from now on.

Deconstructing Truths

I'm trying to stay current, and it isn't easy.

The era of the love letter gave way to this: a tip not a throw...back
Anticipate the absence of show; a hidden timing that is not private
Turpid and Teflon, the language of intimacy is also a crime without reprehension.

vows and other expectations

be sacred for me
i saved you
to receive my words without vessel of idea