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

The Dress Maker's Book

   the dress and the form

              the form lends itself

              inanimate in desire

                allows the other

Field Guides to Acquainting with Living Things

     much like the source for their origin, these field guides have room to go in 

their arching concept of what is perception and sequentiality. mostly blank, 

the person who inherits them will have space for personal documentation with 

slight interruption of imagery; return to the scene of the crime of the things I 

left behind, and give them the purpose I didn't have the heart to. 

          

           

in the library of human dynamics

these books house my artist statements for my library of human dynamics, immutable show

If each of us is a book, our pages are perforated and magnetic and could be blank for all their ephemeral accuracy. Though we are sequential beings, our narratives are not linear. Memory is written on holographic stationary, recounting an ambience of history, physics, and expectation. We agree to coalesce by using every day and ordinary expressions, identifying patterns, telling time, and working around the weather. But the blindingly beautiful weight of our potential is hidden in the archives of our library of human dynamics. The truth is immutably infinite, and we function as reflective tricks of this light. I expect to spend my entire life growing acquainted to living things.

in the library of human dynamics