Archives for posts with tag: books

The studio feels good. It emits an aura of moderate organization leavened by a pinch of chaos. Already, heavy books are pressing one book cover whilst 6 pairs of boards and 4 spines sit ready to be covered. Perhaps tomorrow will bring the cutting of paper for pages and signatures. Yippee!

Each book has the honor of starting from left over museum board used for matting; the covers will come from new and scrap paper; and, a good mix of new and old paper will comprise the pages.

Goals set for photographic projects yesterday. Lesson plans planned to sell yesterday as well.

Adieu!

The Tacoma Public Library has offered a summer reading program not only to children but to adults as well. There is nothing quite like a reading program that elicits my own deep competitive spirit. No sport, board game (except maybe the devilish Scrabble), card game, or some other such lark ignites my spirit more than a scorching, Pacific Northwest summer filled with reading books and writing reviews. It takes me back to the days of yore when, in middle school history and literature classes, teachers rewarded students “extra points,” as it were, if they read more pages of outside reading than other students. Requisite to this was a submitted, written summary of the book. I plodded my way through such books as James Fenimore Cooper’s Last of the Mohicans and The Pathfinder. Suffice to say, I often found myself rewarded with those points even though other students needed them more.

That was then, and now is a couple of decades and a half later in my middle age, which has lent me the worldly experience to know that there exist readers whose book consumption equals that of the Scottish people’s consumption of deep-fried Mars bars and other unusual, sheepish confections (i.e. haggis). I will try to keep to fiction and begin with some of Twain’s steamboat punk:

  • Pudd’nhead Wilson
  • Mark Twain on Travel – a selection of his travel writings, and
  • Tales of Wonder – a collection of his science fiction writings.

May the games begin.

Ah. This post is taking longer than I thought…

Another beginning to an end. This is the third time I’ve rewritten this entry…

And the forth time begins.

Books, I lose myself in them, or I loose myself in them. It works both ways. No greater resource exists to acquaint myself with my fellow humans both past and present, imaginary all. Aren’t all books from the imagination sung whether founded in events or not? My current bent, when not buried in fiction, is in the spiritual and religious. While I will likely never be religious, I will always, likely, be spiritual. It has never made much sense to me to hand my fate over to an indifferent, different, wrathful, or peaceful god, idol, goddess of any sort for the betterment of myself. Buddhism would suit me, but no practice or orthodoxy attracts me. Yet, perhaps it is age, I’ve become curious about the moral and spiritual depths people feel in religion and have come to respect for those very things. I could attribute this to the recent death of a close companion or a mellowing of fervor or learning to listen, but it may simply be timing.

In no particular order:

  • R. Iyer, The Essential Writings of Mahatma Gandhi
  • Ibn ‘Arabi/Sells, Stations of Desire
  • K. Tippett, Speaking of Faith
  • F. Lewis, Rumi: Past and Present, East and West
  • M. Grater, Creative Paper Toys and Crafts
  • R. & M. Feller, Paper Masks and Puppets
  • N. Turner, Florentine Drawings of the sixteenth century
  • S. Cantón, Spanish Drawings

I reflected, in a moment unburdened by bigotry, that I knew many people who had faith in one religion or another and they found hope, moral guidance, love, strength, and much else in their faith so much so that I could no longer look on religion as some monochromatic painting without feeling, thought, or reason (as I’ve been apt to so many times) or inspiring violence. So, I’ve begun reading and my prejudices led me to the Dalai Lama, Mahatma Gandhi, Krista Tippett of On Being, and others. I’ve also begun speaking with friends and acquaintances regarding their faith to see how it guides them daily and lifelong. I am trying to cultivate a better understanding of faith and religion, so that I am not so prejudiced in my own thoughts and beliefs.

There are also many art related books. Some are more serious and related to my very personal growth as an artist while others gravitate towards the art I make with children. Yet, one never knows where inspiration will fall from.

Exactly that. This discreet journal keeps secrets well hidden in chewy, fruity goodness. Just don’t offer your friends a piece of gum.

On Thanksgiving Day, I was looking over my husband’s parents’ shelf of library books, and there upon were two that caught my eye. (We often covet their books. Some can live with others coveting their wives or husbands, but he who covets other’s books should covet discreetly.) One was a work of fiction by a Booker Prize winner from the 90′s, and the other a book on handmade books tending towards the fine arts rather than printing and journals. I had a mind to take the book because it is public property, and I’m a part of the public and she wasn’t using it just yet, but reason prevailed. Well bitten, I went to the library the next day to return some materials for E and left with Eco Books by Terry Taylor, which is not the book that E’s mother had checked out but will do. Then, this book full of projects looking instructive and doable just sat there daring me to make something.

The first that caught my eye as a real possibility was the book made out of drink coasters – beer coasters to be exact.

It required three of those, string, paper, tape, ruler, and some sort of cutter. I had all of that. In fact, sniping beer coasters is a hobby of mine, so those were plentiful. It’s not a hobby that gets out of hand, and I’m fairly picky. Plus, I don’t think the waitstaff mind, which is a shame because I’d like to think that I was getting away with something. A little adrenaline rush does one good. Maybe I should try it naked. There’s an idea, imbibe, strip, steal coasters. Perhaps not. Anyway, I happened to have sniped a very decorative one by Delirium tremens, a Belgian beer, that featured a pink elephant floating on a dark blue background and chose that for my cover.

The back cover sported a more somber, monk flavored beer coaster. For the signatures, printer paper and left over grocery bag parts served well. It came out looking thusly. I started Saturday night and finished Sunday afternoon. All in all it probably took about 3 hours to sort out and finish.

I did add one tool to the supplies: an awl. It made punching small holes very easy and fun.

(I like punching holes. In fact, when we were at a paper store looking for a corner rounding punch, I purchased a hand held hole puncher and have been punching holes and rounding corners with glee ever since. Grocery store receipts look so much nicer with rounded corners.)

Now that’s done, I must move to the next project. Having perused the book Friday night, I hustled over to a very second hand shop, St. Vincent de Paul, to peruse material acquisition possibilities, which were rich and cheap, and came away with a bounty of ideas.