Chewing with the Paper Chipmunk

Moving Day! The Chipmunk is Moving!

2011-06-01T00:57:00.000-07:00

I've finally done it. Bye-bye Blogger! Chewing with the Paper Chipmunk has a new home at paperchipmunk.com.

I'd deeply appreciate it if you'd update your feed readers and bookmarks so you can continue to follow me over there. Thank you.

Bookbinding Sewing Cradle Tutorial

2011-05-20T02:30:00.000-07:00

A friend recently asked me to make new sides for her sewing cradle. I decided just to make another sewing cradle and give the instructions here.

You'll need:
2 pieces of book board that will form the main body of the cradle. Shown here are two 13"x 4.5" (33 x 11.4 cm) pieces.

8 pieces of book board about 3"(7.5cm) long x .5"(1.3 cm) wide. These will form the supports on the "legs" that will hold up the cradle..

2 pieces of book board for the legs/ends. The pieces here are 3.5" (9cm) high x 6"(15.2 cm) wide for a 13" (33cm) long cradle.

And you'll need 2 strips of book cloth that are about 3.5-4" (9 to 11.5 cm) wide and slightly longer than the length of your cradle.

Instructions:

1. Measure approximately 1" down and 1" in from each end. Mark a slit that is as wide as the thickness of your book board. It should exactly match the placement on the other board, but be a mirror image. See photo. If necessary, err on the side of making the slit too narrow--you can always use an emory board later to enlarge it.

2. On each of the smaller end boards, mark a 45 degree "V" in the middle. Do this on both sides, and on both sides of the other board this size. I find a small quilting ruler to be quite useful for this.

3. Carefully glue each small side support piece along the sides of the 45 degree Vs you just made. They will meet just at their tips on the bottom, as in the photo. They won't reach all the way to the top--don't worry about that. Do this on all 4 sides. Put aside to dry.

4. Join the two main cradle pieces by gluing a book cloth strip down the center, as shown (the book cloth is on the underside in the photo). Leave 2 board thicknesses space in the middle.

5. Do the same on the other side. The book board will be sandwiched between the book cloth. It's fine for the book cloth to hang off the ends. You'll trim it after it's dry. Put it aside under weight to dry.

6. After drying, trim the extra cloth off the ends and trim open the slits:

The book cloth isn't exactly centered here because I was ditzy.
It won't be elegant, but it will work.

7. Using your bone folder, you can score down the middle of each side to neaten the joint in the bookcloth.

8. Slide each slit over an end piece/leg. Use an emory board or trim slightly to enlarge the slit if necessary (but be cautious--it should fit snugly). The V-shaped supports will hold up the cradle.

Your finished item will look something like this. You can take it apart for storage and travel.

I've made a couple of these for my own use. One is smaller than the other. That's the one I tend to use most, since I like to make small books.

Punch those sections with confidence.

This is my favorite hole punching tool--a pin vise. These actually come with different kinds of handles, including some that look like craft knives. You can attach a needle on the end of it, for nice holes that are smaller than those made with an awl.

Now doesn't that look delightfully menacing?

Workshop Addendum

2011-05-18T20:28:00.000-07:00

My Handmade Folded Books workshop at Origin Design Lab in Eureka is being rescheduled. It is now on June 2, 3-7 pm. In the meantime, I've been having fun constructing models and writing instructions.

Workshop at Origin Design Lab

2011-05-13T17:25:00.000-07:00

I'm teaching a workshop at the very nice Origin Design Lab in Eureka on Thursday, 19th May from 4-8pm. From the official description:

We will build upon the simple accordion fold to create various book forms. Learn the secret to making a perfectly folded book along with other tips and helpful tricks. You will leave the class with finished models and ideas for plenty more. The material fee will provide a basic kit to get you started, papers and printed instructions. No prior experience is necessary. These books require no special equipment aside from a few easily obtained tools and materials.

Fee: $70.00 + 15.00 materials fee ($5 for Book Arts Guild Members)

Level: Beginning

They're at 426 3rd St in Eureka.

Paper Chipmunk Taxidermy

2011-04-19T13:47:00.000-07:00

Hidden Clue by Sarah Wallace Scott at Abecedarian Gallery

Abecedarian Gallery in Denver, Colorado is currently hosting Artists' Book Cornucopia II, a juried exhibition. There is an online catalogue.

Needless to say, I was quite taken with this particular item, Hidden Clue by Sarah Wallace Scott. Says Sarah,

"In my process of working with paper I found that I could make faux taxidermy using only paper. The problem was that no one could tell the difference. I tore out the pages of a used book and started attaching them in the same way as the other paper to make a more obvious paper chipmunk..."

Paper chipmunk taxidermy aside, I should add that there is work from quite a few interesting people in this show, including fellow blogger Anna Mavromatis (who has blogs about her book art as well as more ephemeral matters).

Books in Capsules

2011-04-06T01:51:00.000-07:00

I've long liked the idea of books in vending machine capsules. I've been hoping to incorporate this into my next show, which will be in the fall. Acquiring an actual vending machine is probably more investment than I care to put in (although, to be honest, I was surprised to discover one can be had for not much more than, say, framing a largish piece of 2D art).

However, I also thought it would be appropriate to have the "vending machine" be a handmade piece of the art. I have built a box that would be the perfect size, although, through trial and error, the dispensing mechanism has become increasingly simple until, in the latest incarnation, it is not more than a sloped drop down to a hole with a swinging door on it. The problem is, the @#$%! capsules tend to get stuck on the way down. I'm imagining the visiting public having to shake the box and shove their fingers up into the chute to unjam the capsules. Not quite the right idea. Alas.

By last night I was ripping out most of the innards of the thing and growing panicky over the time I've let go by on this. (Due to the usual health considerations, I've already lost much precious preparation time.) Sigh... I'll also need to complete about 50 tiny books to go into the capsules, in addition to the rest of the show. I have some one-of-a-kinds so far, and have some multiples in the making. They are actually kind of fun to do. Several have included found word texts. We'll see....

By the way, miniature books in toy-style vending machines are not a new idea. After I started on this, I discovered they have them in Japan, where miniature books are popular. And there are places in the US with a similar idea.

(Thanks to artist Scott Blake for sending the last link. He, incidentally, helped bring an Art-o-mat vending machine to Omaha, Nebraska.)

Sohei Nishino Diorama Maps

2011-04-04T15:51:00.000-07:00

I just came across these interesting "diorama maps" by Sohei Nishino on his website. They are constructed from the "enormous mound" of film photographs he takes when visiting various cities.

They were also mentioned in a January New York Times travel piece about maps and such in London.

Pop-up Exhibition Video

2011-03-21T23:50:00.000-07:00

Pop-ups! They're Not JUST for Kids from Bowdoin College on Vimeo.

With thanks to Elissa Campbell of Blue Roof Designs, who shared this on Facebook (and who says she in turn discovered it through someone at the Book Arts Guild of Vermont).

Update

2011-03-19T04:49:00.000-07:00

At Kyoto University about 15 years ago.

Just to let you know... my previous prematurely posted entry has now been uploaded for real. Blogger stuck it below, so it's tucked down a bit. Sorry for these multiple postings over my mistake! (Although it's a good excuse to use this old snapshot for filler.)

Ach...

2011-03-18T02:16:00.000-07:00

An apology to all who get the feed for this... the embarrassing beginnings of a rough draft accidentally got posted as I was flailing for the save button during a sudden commotion of hail, rain and thunder. The draft has been hastily removed and saved, and I'm getting off the computer for now before we lose our power, which often happens in these situations. More later...

Connections

2011-03-18T02:06:00.000-07:00

Home is in that orange-shaded portion of California.
http://www.crew.org/science/pgaall.html

Days before the terrible earthquake in Japan, I'd had a conversation with a friend about the massive subduction quake that we are overdue for here in our part of the world. He'd taken a class from a famous geologist who specializes in earthquakes. He talked about how it will be around 9 on the Richter and how the shaking will go on for minutes, not seconds as in most earthquakes. The tsunami it will unleash will wipe out some of the lower-lying towns almost instantaneously. We will be cut off from the outside world for weeks afterward due to damaged highways and bridges, likely with no power and maybe no water. I expressed my desire to be long gone when this event occurs. The thought is too horrific to contemplate, even as we live every day with the knowledge that it could very well happen here at any time in the Cascadia Subduction Zone. And then...

When I moved to Humboldt County in the late 80s, I became friends with a woman who had two girls, the younger being 2 at the time. We were in the same anthropology class that required spending a chunk of the semester at the zoo watching the primates for a term project. I remember us meeting there. My friend spread out a blanket and we worked while the "baby" napped, then we took her around the zoo to look at the animals when we were done. While still a student I wound up living just behind them. We became good friends and kept in touch over the years. The toddler at the zoo is now a married university graduate. She's incredibly smart, creative and quirky in all the best ways. And bilingual too.

Kyoto

She is currently living with her husband in northern Japan, working with a cultural exchange program. After the earthquake, there were a couple of tense days here in California as we waited for news. Even her friends in Japan started posting notes on Facebook, wondering if she was ok. She doesn't live right on the coast, but isn't that far from the epicenter. She'd mentioned visiting Sendai before. It was, to put it mildly, an unnerving experience.

At last, she was able to get a line out--she and her husband were ok!

I've been to Japan once, many years ago to Kyoto. I arrived not sure what I'd think of the place, and left enthralled. Thinking about what's happening in that country now is painful.

Before the quake, I'd planned to briefly mention Japan in my next post. I have a link to something there that relates to a current project. Next time...

Paste-painted Dura-lar Book

2011-03-01T05:57:00.000-08:00

I discovered that the paste-painted Wet Media Dura-lar that I mentioned in the last post can be cut, folded and stitched. I made a miniature book with it. The only problem was that it didn't stay shut. The pages insisted on staying open.

However, magnets in the covers solved that problem.

And the magnets can keep the book open in a circle too. (My favorite source for these is K&J Magnetics.)

The bits of colored plastic visible in the top picture are vending machine capsules. They will be explained soon.

Experiments with Paste Painting on Tyvek, Wet Media Dura-lar and Yupo

2011-02-21T17:49:00.000-08:00

I experimented the other day with non-paper materials for paste painting. One of my more interesting discoveries was that you can paste paint on Wet Media Dura-lar. It won't curl, and the paint doesn't flick off (although I haven't yet tried to fold it...).

I've paste painted on Tyvek before, but I thought I'd try some texturing tools I hadn't used much yet. In general, results on Tyvek often seem more textured than on paper, and it usually doesn't curl. Here, I twisted a square cookie cutter in various directions:

This was done on Tyvek with foam letter stamps, stamped in all directions until the letters themselves became mostly illegible :

This is on Tyvek again. The paste was brushed on and then dabbed at with a towel:

And then I played around with the scans in Photoshop, to see how the textures could be further altered:

This was a paper that I'd begun a while ago. I first made a faux-wood pattern in a greenish-blue color. I then later went back and added a fresh blue layer on top and dabbed at it with a rag:

And then played around with the scan a bit in Photoshop:

I discovered that you can paste paint on synthetic Yupo as well. I thought the result was rather interesting, although I'm not sure yet what I'll do with it.

It occurred to me that a long time ago I said I was going to add a paste painting tutorial on here. It seems I never got around to it. Someday... However, there are many tutorials online, easily found with a search.

I just discovered this good recent one from Lili's Bookbinding blog. I'd never prepared cornstarch paste using her method before (my method is mentioned here), so I decided to give it a try. She doesn't simmer the paste on the stove. She makes a slurry and adds boiling water to it while mixing well with an electric mixer. It was fun to watch the paste suddenly whoosh up into form in the bowl this way. I found this paste differed from my usual version. Not bad. Just different. I thought it tended to form a skin more quickly, but otherwise it had a nice consistency. I'd like to use it again. The recipe is on her post at the above link.

Another tutorial I've liked is at Buechertiger's blog (here and here). She also provides links to further resources.

If you know of any other good paste painting tutorials or resources, please feel free to recommend them.

Volvelle Tutorial

2011-02-13T02:05:00.000-08:00

My stats say that a few people landed here recently after Googling "how to make a volvelle." I guess volvelles are gaining in popularity. I've mentioned them before, but not how to make them.

However, I have taught a workshop on how to make one without using a brad or other hardware. Google suggests, and I will offer.

It looks long and intimidating, but this is actually pretty easy once you get the idea. I'm just wordy.

You'll need:

Heavy paper or card stock.
A compass.
Pencil.
X-acto knife or scalpel with sharp blade and cutting mat.
Optional: tracing paper, large hole punch or circle template, Tyvek. A ruler or straight edge can be helpful.

1. Fold your paper.

For our example, we'll use a piece of heavy paper or card stock folded into 3 panels to make a card, and a separate piece of card stock for the wheel and turning mechanism.

2. Make your wheel.

Open the card. Using a compass, measure a circle that will be just a bit smaller than the width of the page (one of the sections)--but don't draw a circle here. Lift up your compass and draw this circle on the piece of card stock that you would like to use for your turning wheel.

Now shorten the distance between the legs on the compass so that you can make another circle that will be roughly around .75" (2 cm) or so in diameter. This doesn't have to be an exact measurement and can be smaller or larger (when this circle is too small, it's more difficult to work with, but if it's too big, it leaves less room for your outside window and the pictures or text that you will put on the wheel.)

Place the point of the compass in the indentation left in the middle from making the bigger circle and draw a smaller circle in the center. You are making a small circle centered inside a big circle--a donut shape.

If you'd like you can use something like decorative edge scissors around the outer edge of your donut/wheel. This will make the wheel easier to grasp when your are trying to turn it.

3. Make the turning mechanism/hub.

Keeping the compass measurement exactly the same as from the inner, small circle on the donut, draw another little circle elsewhere on another sheet of card stock. (Or, cheater's method: simply trace the small hole from your wheel.)

Now increase the compass size to make another circle roughly .5" larger than the little circle you just made. Draw this around the smaller circle. You should wind up with two nested circles.

Cut out around the outside edge of the larger, outside circle.

What you are creating is the hub that is going to hold your turning wheel in place and allow it to spin--sort of a big paper version of a brad.

Now make an X across your nested circles to create a guide. Cut 4 slits from the outside circle just to the inner circle (see photo at left). This will allow you to form two tabs on either side. If the slits you cut are too big, your volvelle will wobble. If too tight, it won't spin.

Now fold up two opposite ends to make tabs, as shown. Rolling these tabs a bit as needed, slip them through the hole in the center of the wheel, then flatten down.

4. Make a space at the edge of your card so you can turn the wheel.

You need to make a little space at the edge of the card (or page) for your fingers. You can use the edge of a large circle punch or stencil. Or you can center a little cut out section at the edge of the card. The photo at left is the idea. Don't make the opening too deep, or the pictures or text that you add to the wheel will be visible in this opening as you turn it. You want enough room to allow you to grasp the wheel, but no more.

5. Position the wheel.

Position the wheel on your card stock. It won't be exactly centered, but will overlap the edge a bit, matching up inside the slit/opening you made. Lightly mark around the wheel so you will know where it will be attached. Now remove it and put a small amount of PVA or strong double-sided tape on the back of the hub only (don't get glue on the wheel itself or it won't turn). Position into place.

6. Make the window on the front of the card.

There are many ways to make a window. You can use a stencil or a hole punch, measure an opening where you'd like it, or even make an irregularly shaped window. You just want to make sure--very important--that the hub tabs or edge of the wheel won't show through where you make your opening.

Keep in mind that this can also be a two-sided structure if you also put a window (or windows) on the other side of the card or book page.

Here is a method for making an arched window. Take a piece of tracing paper the size of your card. Open the card and place the tracing paper on the wheel, carefully lining it up with card edges, like this:

Keeping in mind the position of the wheel and hub and tabs (so you can be careful to avoid having them show through), mark where you'd like your window. Follow the contour of the wheel edge as a guide. You can use the compass as an aid.

Remember doing this in school? Turn the tracing paper over and trace in pencil over the window you just made. Turn this back over onto the front of the card and rub with a pencil or burnisher to transfer the markings.

With the card open, cut out the window.

7. Finish.

It helps a lot if you lightly trace around the window opening onto your blank wheel as you turn it, showing where you'd like to add your pictures or text.

Once completed, seal the card using a small amount of glue or double-sided tape along the edges. Be very careful not to get any glue or tape on the wheel. If you do, you will have a stationary wheel, rather than a turning one.

If I was planning to make anything fancier than a casual card, I'd lay out the wheel pictures on the computer and print them out directly on the wheel. Even when doing this, it sometimes makes it easier to use a wheel with window tracings as a template to scan and work over. You can erase the window markings in your photo or graphics program before printing.

The dotted lines show
where you can add adhesive.

This was solely a mock-up for demo purposes. Which was a good thing. When I was done sealing up my 2-sided wheel, I realized the side with the writing displays through the window upside down (if you just opened the card and didn't turn it around, like I did here for the photo). But that's why we make mock-ups, no? (And why I consider coffee an art supply.)

8. Variations.

If you'd like a volvelle that is simply a turning disk (or other shape) on top of a page, without a window, simply make a hole the size of the "donut hole" in the card front. Thread the tabs of a hub through, and glue your disk or shape onto the tabs, on top of the card.

The hub mechanism forms the basis for many animated paper engineering structures. Books and websites on paper engineering can lead you to more.

Alisa Golden shows a similar volvelle in her new Making Handmade Books. She suggests using Tyvek for the hub. I haven't tried this yet. She also uses a much smaller hole. I can see how Tyvek, being stronger and more pliable than heavy paper, would make using a smaller hole feasible. This sounds like something to experiment with.

Chinese Book Stamps

2011-02-09T16:20:00.000-08:00

Aren't these neat Chinese stamps? I found them a while back and have been meaning to share. I like stamps. It amuses me that the value goes up from scroll to accordion to bound.

Couldn't Leave Well Enough Alone...

2011-02-03T02:13:00.000-08:00

I couldn't keep my hands off the sharks. The bottom just didn't look quite right. So in a fit of industrious exuberance I added more. The next morning, I wished I hadn't. It's not awful. I just preferred the other version.

Alas.

My New Good Luck Piece

2011-01-31T04:20:00.000-08:00

My local long-time friend Natalie is a fantastic ceramic artist. We recently had a discussion about kiln gods. Since I'm not a ceramicist, I wasn't familiar with them. They are, it turns out, pieces that are made to be placed on the kiln as a sort of good luck offering for the firing. She'd recently made some talisman pieces based on this idea.

The other day on an impulsive whim, I walked into the Arcata Artisans Cooperative Gallery where she has her work and bought one that caught my eye. I figured a talisman to appease the arts gods might be just the thing I was needing.

Minutes later on my way back to the car, I stopped in at Northtown Books just down the street. As soon as I got through the door, they placed an order for a bunch of greeting cards of my old collages. The order covered the cost of my talisman.

I like this talisman idea.

I also like our independent bookstores. Humboldt folks take note: if you want something quickly, consider getting it locally. I recently placed a special order from Northtown in the early Saturday evening of a long holiday weekend. It arrived by Tuesday. This, in an isolated place where even "overnight" delivery often takes two nights. I don't know how they do it. Plus, they are really nice people.

You're Here © Ellen Golla

And if you happen to pop into Northtown, my talisman suggests you check out the greeting cards, especially the ones with the mosaic collages on them, like this one here. . .

Map and Googleganger

2011-01-24T05:12:00.000-08:00

I thought this map of US surnames was interesting. It shows the most common names in different parts of the country.

Mine is not a common name. In fact, there is only one other Ellen Golla who turns up prominently in searches. My Googleganger appears, like me, to be a Golla by marriage, be close in age, have the same middle initial, and live in California (she at the opposite end of the state).

Ellen J. Golla, if you've stumbled upon this, feel free to get in touch. I imagine that you have also been asked before if you are "the Southern or Northern California one."

Be Careful What You Take to Bed With You

2011-01-23T00:28:00.000-08:00

Nearing completion.

How ironic that I started this book/object before the situation I mentioned in my last post. Next time I get the urge to portray sharks circling something, I will take note.

Before I go further, I want to thank, from the bottom of my heart, my legitimate readers and friends for their support and encouragement. I've been deeply moved by the kind comments, messages and emails that I've received since I last posted. It's been a bright spot during an otherwise dark time, and has meant a lot to me.

Not to turn this into a medical novel, but I also have an endocrine disorder that makes stress potentially dangerous. What's been going on made me pretty ill, and at one point nearly landed me in the ER. I hesitate to mention this, after bringing up my M.S. diagnosis earlier made me a target for psychosis and cruelty. But the kind people in my life have been fantastic. In addition to great filtering, a trustworthy friend has taken over monitoring and moderating my comments for me. On the off chance something inappropriate gets through, I won't see it. Thank you.

Lovely washi.

On a happier note, I have a book project to share. I've finally been able to get back in the studio a bit, and have been on a Japanese paper binge. If you dip pieces of it into paste (in this case, rice starch paste) and remove the excess, you can form the paper into almost anything. Leave it on waxed paper to dry, and you can have, for instance, miniature billowing drapes.

And what's especially lovely is that it is non-toxic. I wouldn't want to dip my bare hands in acrylic medium or PVA, but rice starch and distilled water? I feel like a kindergartner with something really cool and slimy.

Sticky slime! Dip into the paste, then run the paper
through fingers to remove the excess. Then shape.

After drying.

Curtains!

Arranging.

Be Careful What You Take to Bed With You.

Enough is Enough

2011-01-10T00:25:00.000-08:00

Self-preservation, 4 x 6".
Paper mosaic collage based on a similar
tarot card for the 7 of Wands.

I recently was waiting at the sheriff's station. In front of me was a sign directing people to something serious sounding, having to do with civil cases. It was written in Comic Sans. All caps Comic Sans. I wish I'd had my camera. But since I'd had to go through a metal detector to get there, I figured it likely wasn't a camera-friendly place, alas.

And why would I be visiting the sheriff? Family stuff. Not my immediate family, thank God, but those from whom I am immediately descended. Little did I know when I started making a book of a bed with sharks swimming around it how apropos it would be.

It's such a cliché, the artist with an insane past. Most folks couldn't make this sort of thing up, but, friends, I'm being harassed. By my own parents. For my health and sanity, I've been intentionally estranged from them for about 20 years. Psychological, medical and law enforcement people have all concurred that this is a most sensible and excellent idea.

Nothing says Christmas better than a blog comment describing your dead brother in the box he was cremated in. Thank God for the spam button. Apparently, they'd been monitoring this blog. And after I disclosed my recent diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis, they decided to use the comment function to get in touch.

Almost 12 years ago my brother, E., died at age 30. He was autistic and lived with them. After he was diagnosed with a terminal liver tumor, our father screamed at him "What are we going to do when we lose the money we get to keep you!" E. confided to me that he thought they only wanted him alive for the money he brought in. For most of E.'s life, our father thought it was hilarious to follow him around the house, grabbing his head and shaking it. "It's so light!" he would announce. "There's nothing in there!"

My parents tried to prevent me from having contact with E., in some twisted attempt to use him as a tool to get to me, and punishment for my perceived sins. They believed that hurting him and me both was appropriate. My mother told anyone who'd listen that I'd stopped writing to him and didn't call him after he became ill. She returned his mail to sender, when she felt like it, and they screened all calls and grabbed the phone away if it was me on the line.

One extended family member didn't believe me when I said my brother couldn't call me and I couldn't get a call to him. "That's crazy! I'll go over there, give him my cell phone and we'll call you!" He told me to sit by the phone. It never rang. My father said he couldn't allow that. It would upset my mother too much if she knew my brother was talking to me.

But what my parents don't understand is that most people, at heart, are kind. There were people who let me know when E. was in the hospital, so I could call after hours. At one point E. was sent north from Central California to Stanford for a few days. At the time, I knew someone who worked at that medical center. I flew down there, and the friend arranged it so I could come see E. after visiting hours. E. told me our father had raved at him in the car on the way up, angry over the inconvenience of having to drive him a few hours to the medical center and having to stay overnight in a motel. Totally in character. E. and I got to see each other, say our goodbyes and make our peace. And our parents, up until this post, were happy thinking that they'd managed to prevent that.

This recent attempt to harass me through my blog and cause me more pain because I was just diagnosed with M.S. was the final straw. Most people grow out of bullying by the end of high school. There are ways of dealing with this sort of thing.

So here you go, Mom and Dad. I am old enough at this point, and have the friends, expert professional help and resources to keep you from harming me.

Now, back to working on my current book.

More on the Bed

2010-12-29T23:00:00.000-08:00

Lest I get more credit than I should, I wanted to mention that I looked at several books on miniatures before constructing the bed. For the frame, I wound up largely using a design from Jane Harrop's Thirties and Forties Miniatures in 1:12 Scale. More or less, I divided hers in half lengthwise. I also fiddled some details to allow for the fact that I was using paper-covered book board, rather than stained Obechi wood in various thicknesses as she had, but I was quite pleased with the direction her examples took me in. This is an illustration from her book:

I also wanted to share this interesting book design I found recently. It is shaped like a dolls' house, and opens in the front like one. Possibilities there...

Bed Book Project

2010-12-21T03:47:00.000-08:00

I've had an idea for a sculptural book running through my head. "Be careful what you take to bed with you" will be the only text it will contain.

I've also been looking at books about miniatures and dolls' houses. So I built a miniature bed. Or rather, half a bed. It's going to sit on the open book, looking as if it were sticking out of it. Or at least that's the idea.

Here's the bed frame, which is made from book board, paste and Washi:

Here's the bed after a mattress, pillow and blanket molded from Washi, foam, quilt batting, thread and paste was added. It has a stiff, papier maché-like texture:

The book block has been sewn and is waiting to be cased in. The plan is to make a little paper sculpture monster or swimming sharks or something to put under the bed. I might also add walls or flooring from folded pieces of paper. I am allowing it to develop and let it suggest things to me.

My Fantastical Imagination

2010-12-20T01:30:00.000-08:00

Purposeful studio chaos.

I threatened to someone that I would post a picture of my work table. Now I'm getting around to it.

Along with it, some background. It's been an interesting time. I have a show coming up next year, and need to be productive in the studio. I also have been dealing with health matters that make that difficult. I used to spend a lot of time cutting paper and creating intricate collages. Over the last decade or so, it became impossible to continue doing that.

Getting a diagnosis has been a long struggle. One neurologist years ago told me that my problem was that I was an artist. He informed me that the same "fantastical imagination" that allowed me to create my artwork would lead me to have "a fantastical interpretation of my bodily sensations." This neurologist also, by way of emphasizing how funny and crazy we artistic types are, told me that one of his patients was the musician and painter Don Van Vliet, popularly known as Captain Beefheart, who, incidentally, lived in my small town and died just a few days ago at the local hospital. To emphasize his point, the neurologist, while laughing, impersonated Captain Beefheart's distinctive Multiple Sclerosis-related movement difficulties with what I'm sure he thought was a comic flourish. I didn't know Don, but had heard that he had a reputation for fiercely defending his privacy. We wild and funny artistic types.

I was also told that I'd caused my painful problems myself through my artwork (too much fine hand motion, even though I had other symptoms that clearly had nothing to do with my arm pain). I am now careful to avoid mentioning art to medical people, lest it bias my care.

I could spend several web pages detailing cruelties from doctors and others. A friend once laughed at me and made it clear she thought I was a contemptible hypochondriac. Others haven't said it to my face, but I suspect they've thought it.

This past week has been bittersweet. I finally found a decent specialist out of town. I now have a name to put to this (it's basically M.S.). It's degenerative, but the decline won't be all that quick. But I can shelve any fantasies I might've still been harboring that things will get better.

I recently started a new medication that has helped with some of the more distressingly mind-numbing symptoms. A few days after starting it, I had a sudden urge to pull out some of my old collage things, including a little 4 x 6" picture I hadn't worked on in almost 6 years. The picture above is my chaotic worktable when I had it out. It was wonderful to be immersed in my old work again. My recent trip put a damper on my stamina, but I'm hoping to get back to it. I've also been working on some book-related projects (pictures to come).

I'm always torn over how much I should post about medical things. There is a sense that one should maintain one's privacy, and other people's medical problems are boring. On the other hand, I don't like that vague feeling of stigma. Being ill or having a disease isn't a source of shame. I've also long been using my experiences with the medical establishment as creative fodder. I can't pretend this aspect of my life doesn't exist.

Product of creative fodder?

(As I wrote out those last few lines there was a sudden massive flash of lightning and a thunderclap outside the window. A sign?)

Time Flies

2010-12-10T23:55:00.000-08:00

My last film camera. It's the one I was using in 1997.

I cannot believe it is 10 days into December. How did that happen?

Somewhat fitting the theme, the other day I was browsing through a book called Photomontage: A Step-by-Step Guide to Building Pictures. It came out in 1997.

"In the future," it tells us, "people will make their family snapshots with digital cameras. At this time, the best digital cameras are very expensive (in Chapter 10 the illustrations for steps 8 and 9 were done with a $30,000 camera . . . )."

I was sitting in a coffee shop and nearly choked on my brew. Intellectually, I know I didn't even have a computer in 1997. But it's still amazing to contemplate that 13 years ago (ok, almost 14) today's technology was as futuristic as something out of a sci-fi movie. I can only imagine what features that $30,000 camera had (or rather, didn't have). I hear there was a Canon then that could boast an awesome 6 MP, but 1.5 was more the average).

Dracaena Flowers

2010-11-24T00:25:00.000-08:00

Heavens! This has nothing to do with paper, books or art, but is so pleasing I just had to mention it. About a day ago my bedroom started to smell as if it were filled with roses. Lots of roses.

Then I noticed sticky gobs of sap by my printer (fortunately, not on the printer). I looked straight up over my head and saw this. It's a Dracaena (commonly known as a corn plant). I've had plants like this for 25 years and never previously had one do this. Its name turns out to be Dracaena fragrans—those lushly-scented flowers, apparently, are a defining feature.

One houseplant website says they rarely bloom indoors. I thought I was mean to it, but it turns out they like low light and forgetful watering. Who knew?

It sits right next to a mother-in-law's tongue that blooms annually. Perhaps this will become a regular occurrence.

One of my mother-in-law's tongues in bloom.

Floating Pictures in Slide Holder

2010-11-21T18:41:00.000-08:00

I've been playing around with a translucent microscope slide holder. I glued some pictures of white doves onto slides and stacked them inside. The effect reminds me a bit of a miniature fish tank, with things floating in a little box. Only the semi-opaque character of the plastic adds a certain ghostly mystery.

Living Where I Do...

2010-11-15T02:29:00.000-08:00

Leif Parsons/NY Times illustration

I'm going to be having a show next year at Eureka Books.

It isn't happening for a while yet, but I'm bringing it up now because the bookshop was mentioned in the New York Times on Sunday. The author of the piece, Amy Stewart, is one of the co-owners. It's a true, and funny, story involving the store and Humboldt County's most famous agricultural export. The link probably won't be up for long.

Paper Mosaic Collage Sighting

2010-11-06T22:03:00.000-07:00

The other day I discovered that one of my old Underground paper mosaic collages is being used, with permission, in an interesting online exhibition at the musée historique environnement urbain.

This link will take you to the beginning of the London section of the virtual exhibit. If you roll your mouse over the pictures and follow the arrow that appears on the right, you'll eventually get to All Trains Go to King's Cross St. Pancras. It's being used to illustrate the tube-like nature of the deep level tunnels. The main site for the virtual musée (in English or en Français) has links to all kinds of exhibitions on aspects of urban life.

By way of background, the picture was based on a photo that I took several years ago at Manor House Station on the Piccadilly Line. The title comes from the announcement on the electronic sign. They've since "refurbished" the station. I haven't seen the cleaned up version in person, although judging by the glossy, bright pictures, I suspect I wouldn't actually like what they've done.

How an Artist's Book is Not Like a Picture

2010-11-04T04:13:00.000-07:00

I've been pondering ways of conveying the progression of time and movement in books. I was recently re-skimming parts of Keith Smith's Structure of the Visual Book. He talks about how the structures of artists' books relate to those in "music, poetry, story-telling and cinema." He then cautions:

Carryover of past concepts is often inappropriate... Revolutionary ideas must be realized when starting to work in a new medium. The basic problem in making books is approaching it as if it were many single pictures, and it is not.

This error comes from working in one medium, and carrying over principles to a new process, rather than discovering what is unique about the new medium.

As someone who used to work largely in single pictures, this is something that I've found to be both exhilarating and vexing about making artist's books.

I was listening to a talk that Bea Nettles gave at Duke University (thanks to a link posted on the Book Arts List). She mentioned how in one of her books she partly conveyed the slow, subtle process of aging by gradually transforming the background color of the book's pages. As the book progresses and the subject grows older, each page becomes ever so subtly more purple. By the end, the viewer realizes that the pages have become deep purple, hinting at how a person almost imperceptibly ages from day to day, slowly evolving into an older person. Now that's the sort of thing that makes a book unlike a painting.

New Issue of Book Arts Newsletter

2010-10-27T00:24:00.001-07:00

I thought I'd post a link to the ever-informative Book Arts Newsletter, which is edited by Sarah Bodman at the Centre for Fine Print Research at UWE in Bristol. A new issue appears every 4 to 6 weeks. Here's the one for November 2010 (PDF) that just came out. And this is the index page with background info and links to the archive.

Paper Backing Silk Video

2010-10-15T13:25:00.000-07:00

Someone mentioned here recently that she'd tried to back silk with paper, but had problems. By coincidence, I just came across this video and thought perhaps it could be useful.

Retail Therapy

2010-10-11T12:32:00.000-07:00

I've been away. I had to travel to a big University of California medical campus for what turned out to be some ok help from one department, and some patronizing and dispiriting non-help from another.

Alas, feeling down and wanting to console myself, I did a little shopping. Large universities, especially ones with big science programs, have bookstores with esoteric goodies. Coming all this way, at least I could pick up a few petri dishes, slide holder cases and watch glasses for later. I have some slides at home and was wondering what I could sandwich between them in the semi-translucent holders.

I think some of the petri dishes will become "cards" for friends. I'm trying to figure out what to use to write inside them that will suggest fuzzy and/or semi-translucent blobs of cultured bacterial matter. Suggestions are welcome.

The student checking me out at the bookstore asked if I was doing an experiment. "No, I'm an insane artist and I'm going to use these to make bacterial-looking birthday cards." His face brightened considerably.

Making Book Cloth

2010-09-26T19:13:00.000-07:00

Book cloth making time! I first did a few sheets following the directions I learned a long time ago from a book, using rice starch paste. Then I experimented a bit.

[Please be patient and try not to get confused, since I took pictures at various times when I was doing different cloths. We might jump around from florals to squirrels without notice.]

First, you need a smooth flat surface to work on. I've saved my old worn-out cutting mats and use the back sides of those. Spritz the cloth with water--get it good and damp. Smooth it out with the right side of the fabric facing down:

On a piece of scrap paper (here, newsprint), brush an even layer of paste onto the backing paper, which should be just a bit larger than your piece of cloth. Always brush from the center out to the edges and be sure not to miss any spots. I'm using basic Japanese kozo:

Smooth backing paper, paste side down, over the fabric:

Using a dry brush helps smooth the paper:

As does using a rolled up towel to tamp down the paper onto the fabric. This also, especially, helps create a better bond between fabric and paper:

I also use another method to smooth down the paper onto the fabric, but almost hesitate mentioning it. This could potentially stretch your fabric and push too much glue onto the side of the fabric you don't want it on. That said, I've discovered that carefully using a roller (going, as you always should, from center outward towards the edges) will give you incredibly smooth and well-bonded book cloth (you might not even want it that smooth--this could partly be a matter of what you desire):

The original method I was taught was that one should now carefully turn and smooth the book cloth over onto a new, clean surface, right-side up, then paste around the edges to hold it down flat as it dries:

From recent experience, I can report that this is also an excellent way to drop your wet, newly-made cloth and ruin it. (I did not take a pic for posterity.)

So what I started to do was just leave the cloths in place--don't

touch!--right-side down to dry, without an extra turning step. (Do you know why we are supposed to turn over the cloth? Does not turning increase the likelihood of paste getting onto the side of the fabric you don't want it on?) Regardless, I've found that, at least for the dropping-prone, the leave it alone method works:

When dry, peel it off, trim off the extra paper edging and voilà--book cloth:

Modern Book Burning

2010-09-13T20:08:00.000-07:00

http://www.xkcd.com/750/

1940 Map Model of San Francisco

2010-09-08T15:26:00.000-07:00

From the National Archives...Via sfgate.com

An interesting map story appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle the other day.

A giant museum-quality three-dimensional relief map of San Francisco as it appeared 70 years ago has turned up in a UC Berkeley warehouse, stored in 17 wooden cases...

If assembled, the relief map would be 41 feet long by 37 feet wide and would show the whole city from the bay to the ocean, the Golden Gate to the San Mateo County line. It's an exact-scale model of San Francisco as it looked in 1940.

The model is carefully detailed, showing every street, and every building, all of them hand-painted. There are even tiny trees in the backyards and the parks...

Book Arts Guild at Eureka Books, plus Donner Party Digression

2010-09-05T21:36:00.000-07:00

Last night was the opening for the North Redwoods Book Arts Guild exhibition at Eureka Books. This has become an annual event over the last few years, and this was the best yet. It's great that we have such an enthusiastic and supportive local spot for book arts here in our little corner of the world. Most of the books will be up for the month, including my pharmaceutical piece and the cat book noted below in recent earlier posts. If you're local, come see it while you can. Members from as far away as Thailand submitted books. The books have also been posted on Flickr.

One of the problems, though, of having a show at one of my favorite bookstores is that I, not being so big into large social gatherings, had to keep fighting the urge to duck upstairs to hide among the shelves. At one point, temptation was too great and I discovered a marvelous FBI manual from the 70s on forensic investigation. I owe my friend Shirl, who likes to alter things with a deliciously irreverent eye, a present. I hope she's not reading this.

Nothing to do with art, but I tend to digress...during the evening my eye fell upon an old favorite, Ordeal by Hunger by George R. Stewart. The book is an account of the Donner Party, and in this particular version, there's an appendix with a letter that 12 year old Virginia Reed wrote to the folks back home after surviving the ordeal. "My Dear Cousin I am going to write to you about our trubels geting to California..."

Young Virginia ends by offering this bit of sage advice: "Dont let this letter dish[e]a[r]ten anybody... never take no cutofs and hury along as fast as you can."

Words to live by. Especially for those of us prone to digressing.

E-motive

2010-08-28T16:30:00.000-07:00

The We Love Your Books "e-motive" exhibition of experimental and artists' books is happening now in Milton Keynes. I'm pleased to have my small part in this (pictured below).

There's more information and pictures of the entries at their website. Emma Powell, one of the organizers, has also put photos of the entries, as well as pictures of the show itself, on Flickr.

In addition, participants were asked to submit photos or scans from their sketchbooks as they worked through the process of creating their pieces for the show. These have also been posted as a set on Flickr.

Nice printed catalogues of both the exhibition and the sketchbook spreads are also available.

It makes me tired even contemplating the work that the organizers Emma Powell and Melanie Bush must put into arranging these shows each year. It truly does seem to be a labor of love. As I say, I'm pleased I can be a part of it in my small way (literally, since my laptop book is a miniature).

E-motives, my entry for e-motive

A Cat's ABC

2010-08-28T01:07:00.000-07:00

In the end, I did decide to finish a couple more copies of A Cat's ABC in addition to the recent pharmaceutical work. It's a small open-ended edition miniature, about 2" wide and just a bit taller.

Daily Planners

2010-08-21T02:21:00.000-07:00

My Daily Planner

I did a stupid thing last month. I discovered that if one takes life-sustaining meds, it's a bad thing to forget a dose. A really bad thing. This little oversight, and then my trip south, put me out of commission worse than usual for a while. I guess I should've paid more attention to my own bookmark design from a few years ago. Alas.

I'd been planning to contribute something for an exhibition next month at Eureka Books that our local book arts guild is having. I was going to make something appropriately sellable and commercially pleasing, like my miniature cat ABC book. But it just wasn't in me. So I finished My Daily Planner instead. It fit my mood better.

PS: I wrote earlier about how I waxed the papers to make the cover material for the little books.

Books as Props

2010-08-08T15:31:00.000-07:00

New York Times

The Sunday magazine in today's New York Times has an article on the use of books as decorative objects.

"In July, Amazon.com announced that, during the previous three months, it sold more e-books than hardback books. This may or may not portend something about the future of the form in which long chunks of text are published. But what about the future of the long chunks of text that have already been published as physical objects with paper pages bound between covers? There are, after all, many such things around. Set aside any emotional attachment you may feel toward the reading of physical books; the truth is that creative uses for books that do not involve engaging with words on a page already abound."

A Book Break

2010-08-08T01:14:00.000-07:00

I went down to San Rafael to see the Art of the Book exhibit at Donna Seager Gallery before it closed. It was wonderful and truly inspiring.

I also found it reassuring. I often feel insecure about the little imperfections in my books. It was enlightening to handle work by some of the book artists I admire most, and to see that theirs, too, splay or have stitching that is not quite perfect, or windows that are just a tiny bit crooked. It's good to be reminded that those little idiosyncrasies can add character and warmth to a piece.

The show has come down, but is still online (via the link above). Note that there are two pages of pictures.

I also got to stop at California Carnivores in Sonoma County, my favorite plant nursery of all time. It was quite hot during the trip home. It wasn't safe to leave my new babies in the car when I stopped for coffee, so they came in with me. For some reason, people stared.

Do Typefaces Matter?

2010-07-21T15:17:00.000-07:00

From bbc.co.uk/news/magazine

The BBC News Magazine has an article on the importance of typefaces. With thanks to a tip from the Typo-L listserv.

"To most people, typefaces are pretty insignificant. Yet to their devotees, they are the most important feature of text, giving subliminal messages that can either entice or revolt readers, says Tom de Castella.

When Avatar, the biggest grossing movie of all time was released, one section of the audience was immediately outraged . . ."

You Will Not Be Taken Seriously If You Use Comic Sans

2010-07-09T16:31:00.000-07:00

Here is further proof. Really. For the sake of one's dignity, some fonts are best avoided .

Volvelles

2010-07-05T03:13:00.000-07:00

Volvelles are paper wheel charts with rotating parts. The modern ones, such as those reproduced in Jessica Helfand's Reinventing the Wheel, are enjoyable. But there's something so captivating about the ones from previous centuries that were incorporated into books. These were used for serious stuff like astronomy, medicine and fortune-telling. They were computing devices in their day. To think that the modern movable book has such exalted ancestry.

When I posted a picture recently of a volvelle from Petrus Apianus's 1529 Cosmographia, it whetted my appetite for more. Here are a couple of other examples from the Cosmographia.

From the Lambeth Palace Library Exhibition catalogue.

A spread from the Library of Congress website, showing the positions of the sun, moon and planets.

According to the Lambeth Palace Library Exhibition catalogue, Petrus Apianus (1495-1552) was a mathematician and a pioneer in astronomical and geographical instrumentation. The Cosmosgraphia was a European best-seller. It appeared over the next century in as many as 45 editions in 4 languages, printed in 7 cities by at least 18 printers. It contained four volvelles.

Here are a few links to historical volvelles:

Robert Sabuda has a brief history, with pictures. An early one, pictured below, was made by a Benedictine monk in 1250 and was used to determine when to observe holidays. Some say it is the earliest known example of a volvelle.

A few reproductions from the 1552 Astronomicon Caesareum, which contained 35 volvelles, can be found here. The following image from it is thanks to the Wikipedia page on Volvelles:

This page also has a brief history of volvelles and some more pictures from the Astronomicon C., among others, but be warned that several of the links here no longer work.

The following is a "cipher encoding machine" from around 1600, from an exhibition of manuscripts that was at the Getty:

Doesn't it just make you want to start cutting and assembling circles?

Tasteful Letterpress

2010-06-28T04:22:00.000-07:00

"The sweetness of the melting ABC on your tongue" in 48 point chocolate FagoMo Bold font sounds rather appealing as I sit here with a sweet tooth. Typolade Text aus Schokolade is in Stuttgart.

What sort of ink is compatible, I wonder. Chocolate sauce?

Lambeth Surprise

2010-06-21T17:53:00.000-07:00

A good friend recently went to Wales and England for a visit. The Lambeth Palace Library was on her itinerary. This is the historic library and record office of the Archbishops of Canterbury and is the principal repository of Church of England historical documents. It's one of the earliest public libraries in England. It was founded in 1610.

They are currently having an exhibition of rare manuscripts and documents in celebration of the library's 400th anniversary. It sounded like a stroll in paradise for book lovers.

Today I got an unexpected box in the mail. Nestled inside among all sorts of wonderful books and ephemera from the UK was a shrink-wrapped copy of the lushly illustrated Lambeth Palace Library Exhibition catalogue. Oh my!

Thanks K!

This is a spread from Petrus Apianus's Cosmographia from 1529, which shows a movable volvelle that could be used to tell the time in any latitude.

Books as Comfort Food

2010-06-15T19:34:00.000-07:00

I've been rereading one of my favorite art books, Drawing the Landscape by Chip Sullivan. Its intended audience, I believe, is aspiring landscape designers and architects who want to learn to draw, which wouldn't include me. But I love street views and maps, and this book is so quirky and full of good advice. It's hard not to like an art book—one meant to be used as a textbook, no less—that tells you that a proper art studio needs to include a comfortable place for reading and napping. "Perhaps a couch with a bookshelf nearby." He then goes on to describe napping and reading as essential parts of the creative process. I hadn't looked at it in a long while, and was surprised to realize it even included a few examples of book art at the end. He cites his earliest artistic influence as Mad Magazine.

I've been going through one of those physical periods of frustration where I haven't been able to do much. Rereading a favorite old book like this has been like comfort food.

From the section on the creative process:

"There is a certain degree of magic and mystery to creativity, but if you understand the process, it may come easier. First, you must be open and receptive to your imagination. Creativity is not one of those things that comes effortlessly; it is not instantaneous. It takes a lot of work, and artists strive for it constantly. Creativity is 90 percent hard work and intense preparation. Ideas implanted in your mind linger for a long time; they're nurtured, then explode into a burst of creative energy. . . The creative flow is very much intertwined with perseverance." (My artist friend Joan also blogged about this very thing a while back.)

A practical consideration is how does an artist persevere to create when lacking in physical stamina and fighting off other forms of physical limitation? But I keep trying to actively feed my head with ideas. Favorite books are good nourishment.

Pictured: The couch in my studio, which is actually a covered plastic love seat. The framed print above the road sign pillows is an example of Joan's artwork. The deer crossing sign next to them is papier maché.

Maps Cut in Paper

2010-06-06T23:58:00.000-07:00

These all-white layered cut paper maps of rivers by Lauren Rosenthal are amazing (if you follow the link, click under projects to see more).

Detail from Upper Delaware River Watershed,

2008 (c) Lauren Rosenthal, hand-cut watercolor paper.

E-motives Laptop, Finished

2010-06-04T15:22:00.000-07:00

The cover has a little more wobble than I'd like, and there turned out to be problems with the Tyvek cover—it was wearing on the corners. So I did some touch-up and coated it in matte medium, which seems to have worked. It's not the texture I would've preferred, but still, my little book about online depravity is done.

(An earlier post about some of the inside pages is here.)

Jig Videos

2010-05-30T16:51:00.000-07:00

I like this guy's bookmaking videos. Here he makes a jig for an embossed inset.

It was third in a series on making jigs for an accordion. Parts one and two are here. It's interesting to see how people approach such things.

E-motives Laptop Project

2010-05-18T04:39:00.000-07:00

The miniature laptop, my recreational amusement of the moment, is coming along. The basic form is assembled. The keyboard will be resized and added soon. For a while it wouldn't close properly, but that problem was solved with the use of a smaller diameter hinging wire. And the pages for the book, which will be housed in the "screen" and are meant to look like parody web pages, are just waiting to be put together (the mock ups are shown here).

"How to stalk someone" turns out to actually be a popular search item on Google. I was thinking in terms of parody, outrageousness (although you'd think I'd know better, seeing as I've been harassed myself). After typing only a little bit of it, the rest of the phrase quickly pops up, suggested by the search engine itself. This is presumably based upon this term's 5,190,000 hits. Um.....interesting. I think.

Etc...

(Ok--perhaps it'll make more sense once it's finished...?)

Tyvek For a Miniature Laptop

2010-05-14T04:31:00.000-07:00

I've had an idea that I've been hoping to turn into into a book before the We Love Your Books submission deadline in less than a month. The theme for their next show is "e-motive," to be interpreted widely. The book will be about unsavory things people do online--"not everybody's e-motives are as nice as yours and mine" will be part of the text.

I decided on a sculptural cover designed to look like a laptop. It's made of bookboard and a little bit of basswood. For the keyboard and overall look of it, I scanned all the various sides of an actual old grey laptop and manipulated them in Photoshop. Even so, what could I use for a covering material that would suggest a laptop in looks and texture?

I had a hunch that Tyvek might just work. In Photoshop, I made a sheet-sized area to print from the scan of the laptop's outer top cover. It's a slightly textured-looking grey. I printed this onto the Tyvek with my pigment inkjet. Only it came out green, not grey. So I tried it again only using black ink. Not bad.

To hinge it together, I cut a plastic cotton swab handle into sections and fashioned them into a hinge attached to alternating parts of the cover's inner edges. Through this I will thread a wire to hold it together. It's still not assembled, but it looks as though it's going to work. The reason the bottom half looks blue and streaky in the photo is that I had to rip the Tyvek off. It's waiting to be re-covered. The keyboard will be added on top of that.

It doesn't exactly feel like a plastic laptop cover, but it suggests a plastic-like texture, and is definitely not like paper. And the variations in the Tyvek add to a look of beat-up old laptop. We'll see...

The book's pages are going to fit into the screen area on top. Along with all the rest of it, I'm still working on those.

Background on Tyvek

Jumping to Conclusions

2010-05-12T05:21:00.000-07:00

As some of you who get a feed of this blog know, I recently put up a post about stumbling upon someone selling cards of my artwork online, unbeknownst to me.

The cards were originally from a company I'd licensed some collage work to several years ago. That relationship didn't end well. The company went out of business without telling me. To this day, I have no idea if I was paid everything I was owed. I was left with a bad feeling about the whole enterprise. My first reaction when I found this new, unknown (to me) distributor was a suspicion that these were cards that I'd never been paid for. My license with the original company ended almost a decade ago.

But it turns out the people selling the cards are legit. They bought them years ago when the other company was still around and, theoretically, I should've been paid for them at the time by the original company. They found this old box in inventory and decided to sell them. I believe the current distributor. In my sheepish haste, I deleted the original post.

I guess the saddest thing to me is how easy it is, as an artist, to jump to conclusions to assume that something unsavory is going on.

Above, one of the images in question: Path of No Knowing (c) 1996.

Maps as Art

2010-05-04T01:56:00.000-07:00

The world's smallest atlas, made for Queen Mary's doll house.

Source: news.bbc.co.uk

I've been pondering a potential project--a metaphorical atlas (for lack of a better description). I've long loved maps and map-like visuals, and have been wanting to use that kind of imagery in my artwork for as long as I can remember. I think the time is coming to do it as a book. We'll see if anything materializes. For now, it's mostly in the sketching and pondering phase.

What made me want to mention this was stumbling upon this exhibition review on the BBC news site. The British Library and the Royal Geographical Society are both currently putting on shows that focus on the artistic aspect of maps. One of the items they show is the miniature atlas above.

Back from Beyond

2010-05-02T16:01:00.000-07:00

I trekked to the Bay Area last week. I'm still getting settled back in. I went to an evening workshop with Sara Burgess at the San Francisco Center for the Book. Her papercuttings are divine, and I figured mingling with some knife-happy, paper-crazy folks outside of my isolated corner in the Redwoods might be just the thing.

I also reconnected with a few old friends along the way that I don't get to see nearly enough. This was good, but also sad. So many people I care about are going through such hard times--major economic insecurity, unemployment, frightening health stuff...

As for the workshop, my hands did not want to cooperate. Not to boast, but I used to be able to wield a scalpel or X-Acto with a fair amount of skill. Not so much anymore, alas. But the show-and-tell of Sara's work alone made the night worth it. The books she makes from her all-white scherenschnitte-style papercuttings are exquisitely intricate. She fashions some of the cut pages into map folds that pop out when opened. She showed us one multi-layered carousel book that looked like delicate layers of lace. Unfortunately, there isn't much of her cut paper work online, but she says that she plans to put more up on a site she has just started, White Papers Press. You can already see a few examples of her work's complexity there.

These snaps are from my drive home. I went slowly and stopped a lot on the way. The rain made it particularly scenic.

Catching up After the Outage

2010-04-09T18:05:00.000-07:00

Our electric was out for a day and a night. Blech. Let's hear it for rural living...

So, with a whole day's worth of email and stuff to catch up on, what better thing to do than find a nice little paper-related video?

Each frame was crafted from a 4 x 6" piece of card stock. By Javan Ivey.

Waxing Paper

2010-04-05T00:25:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned before, I wound up waxing inkjet-printed papers for use as covering material for my latest books. I've been quite pleased with the result. I thought I'd outline the process.

First, rub an even layer of wax over the paper. Since this is for a miniature and my block of beeswax is rather large, this is fairly easy. (This fantastic block of beeswax, by the way, was found in a local health food store for less than $3.)

I then experimented with different ways of sanding the waxed paper. Regular fine grit paper did not work--it rubbed off some of the ink. I found this rubber sanding pad at the hardware store, and it works well. I can also roll it up to make it a little easier to grasp. For some reason, a regular sanding block with the same grit number did not work.

Then smooth with a buffing pad, also from the hardware store.

Wiping with tack cloth helps smooth out the wax, but it can leave a little stickiness. I buff some more after this step. Repeat until the desired finish is obtained.

Even though this is a small area to do, this process was causing me problems. I have painful and not very strong hands. I got the idea to try a cheap electric toothbrush to do some of the buffing. It works...up to a point, although I found it actually was not that much easier. However, it is another option and does allow for some finer finishing. I discovered at the drugstore that the toothbrushes are not all equal. Some only vibrate, and others simply don't feel nice in the hand when they're turned on, and, on some, only a small portion of the head moves. If you like this idea, take advantage of the ones that allow you to turn them on in the package at the store. That way, you can get a better idea if it might work for you.

In spite of the hand thing, I've been excited about this. The finish is just perfect for this project. It's smooth and glossy, and is far more durable than regular unfinished inkjet paper. It also deepens the colors of the printouts. I use an Epson with pigmented Dura-Brite inks. I'm not sure how others would hold up to this process, but I imagine they'd be similar.

My Daily Planner

2010-04-02T05:43:00.000-07:00

Book blocks made from pharma inserts, waiting to be cased in.

Here's some more background on those miniature books I mentioned in the last post. Several months back, I found a 7-compartment weekly pill organizer in the drugstore. There was just something about the size of it—slightly larger than usual—that screamed "art supply."

I decided to make little books that look like day planners, one for each compartment. The pages come from copies of the pharmaceutical inserts from my meds. They are 7/8" x 1-5/8".

I've been trying to find a suitable covering material for the little books. I'd been thinking of using Tyvek, but in the end it didn't look "day planner" enough. Mostly, the tiny lettering just didn't look right no matter how I tried to affix it to the Tyvek. I opted, instead, for inkjet prints on paper.

I made a solid black background and used white lettering. But then the coated inkjet paper scratches so easily and the texture wasn't quite right--what to do? I decided, as a protective gesture, to coat the papers with beeswax, something new for me. It turned out that the coating not only offers scratch resistance, but the texture of the wax rubbed into the paper definitely suggests "day planner" to me. I was quite pleased with the result. They are smooth and glossy and not "waxy" at all (unfortunately, the picture doesn't convey this very well).

I made the first one last night and eagerly showed my husband, who said, "Wow, a bible--how funny!"

Bible?!

I had to confess, it did look more "bible" than "day planner."

At any rate, I can recommend wax-coating inkjet printouts. I'll explain a little bit more about my process for coating them in the next post.

A finished "day planner"

Tyvek Tinting

2010-03-27T16:05:00.000-07:00

Tyvek is so versatile. I've been trying to find the right cover material for a set of miniature books (more on them later). I decided Tyvek might be the way to go. Even though I have some big sheets of it, I decided to split apart some Tyvek mailing envelopes--the lazier and cheaper method when working on miniatures.

My favorite way of decorating Tyvek is to use a foam cosmetic sponge dipped in acrylic ink. I then evenly smooth the color over the Tyvek, rubbing it in with the foam sponge.

It's best to work on top of some scrap paper and to wear vinyl or rubber gloves (I like the close-fitting kind, not the dishwashing kind).

Rubbing an even layer of the ink into the Tyvek brings out the patterns of its non-woven fibers. And one of the nicest things about acrylic ink is that it doesn't leave any discernible texture or tackiness--perfect for book pages. It just soaks into the Tyvek.

Once the Tyvek is decorated, it can be used for all sorts of things. Cut into strips, it can be used as decorative tapes to sew signatures onto. Keith Smith, in Non-adhesive Binding Books Without Paste or Glue, says of it: "Archival, flexible and strong, Tyvek seems perfect for pages in a book. It can be sewn...and since it is strong, it can be a substitute for book cloth. PVA must be used for the adhesive..."

I've used it for accordion pages and small book covers. Most of what I've read claims it's archival, although I think nobody will know for certain until it has been used for more decades. Keith Smith cautions that some binders are skeptical, warning that the plasticizer in it may eventually dry out and shatter. That said, the stuff is used to wrap houses and it's a popular art material. I just use it and enjoy.

This shows a little gift book I made a while ago. The cover material and the pages are paste-painted Tyvek. I wish the photo could convey its tactile quality--very sturdy, yet people seem to like to pet the covers and pages.

Show in Point Reyes

2010-03-24T06:28:00.000-07:00

This is the last week my book Atmosphere will be at the "Rain or Shine" Wild Book Show charity exhibition at Gallery Route One in Point Reyes.

The last day is Sunday March 28, when there will be a party and live auction from 4 - 6 pm. You can bid on the books then, or, I believe, take part in a silent auction leading up to it. Proceeds will be split with the artists in the schools program in the area. I won't be there, as it's too far away, but if you happen to be in the Marin area, the address and hours are on their website.

Atmosphere is a miniature accordion of cloud photographs taken from my backyard and at the ocean near where I live. The pages are transparencies layered over coverweight matte paper. Both the transparent and paper elements were inkjet printed with pigmented inks, creating a layered dimensional effect. It has a magnet closure (of the weaker variety).

Atmosphere. Ellen Golla 2010.

A Springtime Use for Books

2010-03-21T15:10:00.000-07:00

Book artist Simon Goode posted some pics from the Solihull Artists' Book Fair on his Flickr stream, including this one. Perhaps not quite what normally comes to mind when considering which books to take into the garden.

Originally Posted by Simon Goode on Flickr

More Magnetic Attraction

2010-03-20T16:20:00.000-07:00

I mentioned a while ago that I've experimented with using magnets for closures, with limited and varied success. The problem was the tiny magnets I've tried are very strong, but once the bookcloth and/or paper are placed on top, they aren't really strong enough. Recently I got some more, slightly bigger, magnets from my favorite source. Oh my.

The first difference was after I unpacked them. The stack of square ones (1/2" x 1/2" x 1/16") held together with such force I couldn't pull them apart! I do realize that I don't have the strongest hands, but still... it took surprising effort. The trick was to carefully slide them with as much strength as I could manage (and even then I somehow got my hand in the way and got pinched hard enough to start dripping blood...yike).

Then I discovered that if you leave one sitting too close to the rest of the stack--say, within a foot or two of it--it will, after a while, begin to move and will SLAM into the stack...with enough force to smash the attracted magnet into shards. Pretty trippy.

I'm thinking these babies will have enough force under bookcloth and paper to work (hopefully not too well), although I have yet to try them out in anything. I'll let you know when I do. I should add that the company I got these from recommends this size for brochure closures.

Those with pacemakers and metal implants should probably steer clear...

Why I Will Never Be a Successful Entrepreneur

2010-03-16T00:51:00.000-07:00

The soggy damp Northwest of California is a great place to grow bog-dwelling carnivorous plants (these are my babies). Even with global warming and our now noticeably drier summers, it generally stays wet enough to keep them happy.

Unfortunately, there's also another wet-loving organism that thrives in this climate. Moss. In particular, an invasive, nasty and vigorous moss that spontaneously emerges on the soil of my plants and takes over their pots. I pull it out. It comes back. Only more determined. I really hate this stuff. And it grows not just on my plants, but on everything--our cars, our roof, our walkways... Trust me. It's not cockroaches that will survive nuclear annihilation. It's invasive moss.

Several things spring to mind when I see this green plague. Some of it isn't polite enough to repeat on this blog. But one thing I'd never thought is "People will pay to have this sent to them!"

I discovered that there are those with a more entrepreneurial mindset who bottle this stuff and sell it on places like Etsy.

I suppose this is why I'll never be a financial success. I'm completely lacking that business gene. When I see killer moss choking my plants and taking over my home, my first thought isn't "terrarium sales!"

Alas.

The Awful German Language... and the Awful State of American Higher Education

2010-03-13T00:10:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a good day. I got two beautifully crafted handmade books in the mail from Germany. One is a copy of Mark Twain's The Awful German Language, with hand-printed lino cut illustrations, and the other is called To Touch and to Cut, a cleverly designed math-related miniature. They are by Buechertiger (aka Hilke). I know several book artists who used to be mathematicians, Hilke included. What's the connection there?

As for the Mark Twain, I'd been following the making of it on Hilke's blog. Having taken three years of German a long time ago when I was a university student, I was entertained by her choice of text. Looking through these books is a real treat! They are quite wonderful.

On a sadder note, though, I'm finding it a bit ironic to be reading this particular selection now. As many of you know, the situation at California's state universities is dire. At my alma mater, Humboldt State, they are slashing programs and faculty and reducing the salaries of those who remain. Students are not only paying a lot more to attend, but they're crammed into their classes, if they're even fortunate enough to get into the ones they need. One of the programs that got the ax not too long ago was German.

We just heard from an acquaintance who teaches at the University of Nevada Reno that they have gone a step further. Their administrators are planning to eliminate the entire Foreign Languages and Literatures Department. No more French, German or Italian. Can you believe it? (If you're on Facebook, the students have set up a page about it.) And now even as I was writing this, someone else told me that UCLA, where I once took multiple foreign languages and linguistics classes, is planning to do something similar.

Even though people always thought I was an art student, I didn't actually major in art once I came to Humboldt State from UCLA. I had a double major in language studies and anthropology. It's been quite a while now, and my working knowledge of the languages I studied is growing fuzzy. But learning them still was one of the greatest gifts I got from my education. It shocks me to think that course offerings in major European languages are now considered expendable at American universities.

That's awful. Beyond awful.

Fun Little Time Waster

2010-03-11T15:06:00.000-08:00

Warning: stay away from this site if you have a tendency to compulsively doodle.

Microscope in a Book

2010-03-09T23:52:00.000-08:00

From 1820, an engraving of a microscope built into a book binding at the Wellcome Library site.

With thanks to Margaret Fenney, who posted this on the Book Arts List.

More Inspiration from the Land of Children's Books

2010-03-07T00:33:00.000-08:00

This time around the topic isn't children's books themselves, but a how-to on illustrating them. This was another find from Eureka Books that dates to the 1950s. There really is so much overlap when it comes to the design of kids' books and that of artists' books.

This especially got me thinking about possibilities for illustrated end papers and book covers, along with other aspects of book structure.

But what I most wanted to do was share the chapter on typography with bookmakers I know who tend to think of font and type matters as afterthoughts, if they think about them at all. Henry P. here says:

"Type is the most important element in most books. Even in the young child's picture books it is still a factor of great moment. No book could be considered well designed unless its type faces were well chosen, its size appropriate, and the type panels well proportioned and well printed. And the relation between type and illustration must be a successful one....Illustrations are almost always near neighbors of type in some form, and they must be compatible...

Occasionally, an illustrator is tempted to use an exotic type face because it goes well with his pictures, but here another factor enters: legibility. There are many...display types which excite and delight the eye for a line or two but which bore and repulse if pursued page after page. The so-called book types have stood the test of countless hours of reading and have survived because they do not weary....

Picture and text are bound to influence each other, beneficially or adversely. Who would choose any but the way of cooperation between them?"

Indeed.

Children's Books and Artists' Books

2010-03-05T01:32:00.000-08:00

Books meant for kids often have some of the best ideas for artists' book structures. They are, in many respects, often quite similar--they have an emphasis on illustrations with perhaps a little bit of text. Sometimes they also have an unusual structure or shaped pages.

I recently came upon a couple of children's books from what looks to be the 50s.

The first was sent to me by a friend. It's a German translation of an English book that was called Animal Lore and Disorder. It advertises "more than 200 comic animals." The pages are divided horizontally, so as you turn them, you create little mish-mashes of mixed up animals and mixed up descriptions to go with them. This here is a "Cowk," a cow/elk: "This animal lives in the farmyard. He gives lots of milk and cream and...hunters often go around Canada hunting him." The book itself is interestingly made. It is essentially a pamphlet with hard covers and a buckram spine. The paper cover wrapper is glued directly onto the book boards, with flaps left free. They tuck in around the front of the book. You can see the raw edges of the book board.

The second I found in a bargain bin at Eureka Books. It's not in great condition, but I liked the form of it and the way it was made. It's an accordion. The pages are shaped book board panels, all joined together with book cloth hinges and a cloth spine. It's satisfying to open and arrange these heavy, smooth panels joined with cloth. The sections move in a way that wouldn't be possible with the cheaper production methods of newer picture books.

I'm already imagining how elements of these two book forms can be worked into my artist's books.

Robin Robin

2010-02-28T15:30:00.000-08:00

My friend Robin Robin died on Friday. He'd been ill, but stable. This came as quite a shock.

Robin was an incredible commercial and portrait photographer with a career that included long stints in Los Angeles and Paris. We met after I'd had a bad experience with another local commercial photographer. Finding someone who really knew how to take professional quality larger format transparencies of artwork in this rural place was difficult. The transparencies were a necessity so I could get images of my paper mosaic collages reproduced. My work also has a glossy sheen to it that makes it difficult to photograph. I hired Robin to retake all of the 4 x 5s of my collage artwork. He did a stellar job of it. His wife Stephanie was his constant companion in the studio, as well as elsewhere, and we hit it off in a big way.

Without Robin's quality transparencies, I likely could not have kept my work with the Bridgeman Art Library. When I had my last solo show, Robin showed up, tripod in hand, to get pictures of the gallery. It was Stephanie who, indirectly, led me to get involved with the book arts world. They both have had a huge impact on my life here. They have also simply been good friends.

A few years ago, Robin had an idea for a photography show at the local museum (if you click the link, scroll down to February). He wanted to do portraits of local artists. He wanted me to be one of them. The day of the shoot, he had Stephanie sit near me as he took the photos. As I'm sure he knew we would, we got each other in hysterics laughing (I remember I was telling her about my fantasy plastic lawn ornament, a mating turkey decoy—don't ask how we wound up there). As soon as I started gasping with laughter, he started snapping. Dang him. Then I learned further details about the show. He was planning to make the portraits wall-sized. "Robin," I nearly screamed, "you didn't tell me you wanted to be f'ing Chuck Close!" Grudgingly, I had to admit they were the best pictures I'd ever seen of myself. Robin let me have copies of the proofs to use for promo purposes and whatnot.

One day a few years ago I was fishing some locally grown carrots out of a bag. I pulled out a multi-legged mutant that was so funny my husband and I were nearly writhing in tears at the sight of it. I wanted a picture. Then I remembered we'd be seeing Robin and Stephanie the next day. Robin could get a better snapshot of it than I could.

I should've known better. Robin took it to his studio and did a set of portraits, even rubbing it with oil to give it a nice sheen. To this day I can't look at a carrot without thinking of Robin's photos. I joked with him that he could even make a carrot look sexy, but it wasn't far from the truth. He was amazing with a camera.

And he was the sort of person one would feel lucky to have for a friend. He's going to be terribly missed.

Piddle on Papyrus

2010-02-24T03:27:00.000-08:00

I don't have a professional graphics background. But through my work with books and printed matter, I've come to notice type.

And ever since I first started noticing it everywhere, the Papyrus font has set my teeth on edge. Trust me—in 10 or 20 years anything in Papyrus is going to look atrociously dated, in the same way that certain typefaces from the 70s scream of that era. It already looks dated.

And then there's Comic Sans. In order to better understand what it is, exactly, that makes Comic Sans so upsetting to so many, I googled "comic sans sucks." I got 30,900 hits. I discovered there is even a Ban Comic Sans web site.

Comic Sans is used so much, and so often inappropriately, that it has become a cliché. It was based on the writing in comic books and developed for balloon captions for a Microsoft children's program. Most comic book writers don't even actually use it. They use other comic fonts.

I hadn't realized, but quickly discovered, that lots of people loathe Papyrus too. In fact, "papyrus sucks" gets 1,090,000 hits on Google. There are even a few anti-Papyrus groups on Flickr and blogs devoted to hating Papyrus. It's rather gratifying to realize other people share one's own pet peeves.

As I say, I'm not a graphic designer, but I can appreciate the sentiment...

Graphic Avenger.

Book Show in the San Francisco Media

2010-02-20T15:13:00.000-08:00

Designer Bookbinders, based in the UK, held an international competition last year in association with the Bodleian Library. It turns out that the resulting show, Bound for Success: an Exhibition of Contemporary Fine Bindings, is visiting San Francisco until March 6 and got a write-up in the San Francisco Chronicle today. Images of the winning entries, which are exquisite interpretations of a water theme, are also on the Designer Bookbinders' site (there's a link in the body of the text that will take you to the pictures).

Long S

2010-02-19T23:36:00.000-08:00

I was amused by this recent post from Jeff Peachey and thought you might enjoy it too.

Papermaking Day

2010-02-19T03:24:00.000-08:00

I never used to understand the appeal of making paper. Rip up a sheet of paper, put it in a blender and make... a sheet of paper! How exciting. I stuck to found and purchased papers and left the wet stuff to other folks.

Then one day a long while back I got curious. I made a primitive mould and deckle with some screen, tore up some old junk mail, shoved the pieces in a blender with some water...and made some surprisingly cool-looking papers. I was hooked.

I eventually got a pour-style mould and some dried sheets of different kinds of pulps from Carriage House Paper. I discovered the thrill of experimenting with various (and sometimes strange) inclusions and the joy of running one's fingers through a vat of cool proto-paper slush.

On the other hand, it can be a tiring process. I went for a long time without doing it. Then recently my friend Michele wanted to start making paper. I loaned her some books, which was all well and good, but what she most wanted, please, was a demo of that pour mould. And so I pulled out the old papermaking paraphernalia.

We got some especially interesting results with a mix of blue jean and sisal pulps, which I'd been rehydrating since the day before. Michele is a hoot. She's a former mathematician, and at one point in the process she expressed out loud her desire to have a math book to deface--this paper would sure be improved with some equations! Said I, gazing at my pile of university library discards, "Would physics do?"

The results are still drying under clamps and boards. I can't wait.

Comet Pictures

2010-02-14T01:25:00.000-08:00

This is only related to paper in a loose sense. I often used to use 35mm photos as source material for my collage work. I have quite a few photos in boxes, books and piles. Every once in a while I scan a few. These are of the comet Hale-Bopp from 1997.

This one on the left was taken at a mountain pass off of Highway 299, a twisty road that heads east from here. I had gone inland, because here on the coast it's too foggy most of the time to get a decent picture of something in the sky.

There were quite a few other people skywatching there as well. After I'd set up my tripod, a truck pulled up and parked behind me. Whenever it became dark enough between passing cars to take a picture, its driver would beam his headlights on me, ruining my exposure. I suspect he thought he was being helpful, providing light. I wanted to go tell him what he was really being, but felt intimidated. Eventually, though, I did manage to get a few snaps and was happy.

That general time when the comet was around provided a few strange memories. One night that March there was also a lunar eclipse. It was an unusually clear evening, and I was driving down the highway with my husband just after dark. The sides of the road were lined with parked cars where there normally would never be any. People stood all around staring up in a daze, gazing back and forth from one part of the sky to another, from the huge comet to the eclipse and back again. It looked like a scene from a Sci Fi flick. The aliens are landing. Or the Apocalypse is about to begin.

This picture on the right is especially for my friends D. and M., who weren't yet born in '97. D. loves comets and all things astronomical. This was taken in McKinleyville, not too far from where they live.

I happen to like comets too, although not with such a scientific bent. By coincidence the year before Hale-Bopp appeared, I did the paper mosaic collage Sleepers Awake (below). This comet was actually constructed from pictures of a galaxy from an old book. I cut them up into little bits and rearranged the bits into a comet.

I guess, in the end, I did manage to make this somehow be about paper.

Louisa Boyd's Work

2010-02-11T22:48:00.000-08:00

It occurred to me I haven't shared any Flickr finds or web discoveries in a while.

I've been enjoying Louisa Boyd's intriguing book forms, collages, paintings and other work on her Flickr stream.

Some of her books certainly add a new dimension to the concept of a sculptural book. She binds (and sometimes alters) books, then tears and shapes the pages to make objects. Often these relate to birds, or are even shaped like birds. The one pictured here is "Paper Bird #1--Housemartin."

As for her non-bird books, in recent times I've been growing a bit jaded by altered books in general. But then I see something like "Keeping Secrets" (pictured below) and my interest perks up and I want to look again.

Her paintings and other works are also interestingly textural and evocative.

Louisa additionally enjoys keeping in touch with like-minded people through her Facebook page, so if you're on there you might want to check that out as well.

Victorian Cutups

2010-02-07T00:26:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned earlier, I've been looking at Mrs. Delany and Her Circle, the catalogue for a recent show about the 18th C. collagist that was at the Yale Center for British Art and is soon to be at Sir John Soane's Museum in London (14 Feb - 1 May). Another exhibition catalogue I've been browsing is Playing with Pictures: the Art of Victorian Photocollage. The related show started at the Art Institute of Chicago, and is currently at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NY through May 9. The book is quite enjoyable. I wish I could see the exhibition, which was just favorably reviewed by Roberta Smith in the NY Times. She says:

"Breakthroughs aren't always all they're cracked up to be. Collage, one of the riverheads of modernism, is usually thought to have been introduced around 1912, when Braque and Picasso began gluing pieces of newsprint and wallpaper to their Cubist drawings. But what if it turns out that at least one form of collage was practiced decades earlier, not in Paris in the teens but in Victorian England in the 1880s and '70s? And not by ambitious your-body-my-art macho geniuses but by women at the highest reaches of society, including the Royal family?"

She ends the review by noting how modern the concepts behind so many of the pictures in the exhibit look. Many are strikingly reminiscent of work by well-regarded artists of the later 20th C. through today. "May this exhibition serve as a reminder that the most interesting thing about such distinctions [between the Victorian works and modern fine art] may turn out to be the inevitability with which they fray, as more kinds of visual play, by women and others, comes to light."

Well-promoted exhibitions such as this make me hopeful that perhaps, finally, we'll get rid of the irritating notion that Picasso and Braque invented collage.

Codex Goes to the Fair

2010-02-04T04:40:00.000-08:00

As it turns out, my last two available bottles of Codex, out of an edition of 5, are heading to San Francisco this week. If you're in the Bay Area this weekend, Feb 6 - 7, consider stopping by Eureka Books' booth at the San Francisco Antiquarian Book, Print and Paper Fair at the Concourse (7th and Brannan), where they will be on view and available for sale. They'll also have copies of a new edition of my miniature Cat's ABC (more on that soon). Eureka Books put up an online catalogue sampling (PDF) for a peek of some of the rare books and ephemera they'll have there.

Adverse Events on Codex...with Some Poisonous Plant Exposure

2010-02-02T04:15:00.000-08:00

I have a collection of pharmaceutical informational inserts. I mostly use them as art material. Some actually came with my own prescriptions, and some were given to me. (It's helpful to have an acquaintance in the medical field who is willing to pass these things along.)

I first started paying attention to them when I was putting together an entry for a We Love Your Books show in '07. The theme was A (is for add) B (is for book) C (is for collaborate). I chose to do P is for Pills. It was probably the first book-related thing I did that I packaged in a pill bottle. I filled it with little pamphlet-style books made from the informational inserts.

At any rate, I felt that my bottles of "Codex" (tiny books in capsules that, as a work, I'm calling The Literary Cure), needed a little something more--an accompanying informational insert, of course! So I opened up InDesign and Illustrator and got to work.

Of this edition of five, three are already spoken for, and one will be headed to a big book fair at the end of this week. I have not actually made that many bottles of Codex yet. Tiny capsules with tiny books are slow going for someone with hand issues (that is, me). The three that are being purchased were ordered by someone who is willing to wait, even knowing that it might take me months. What a great person! I partly added the insert for her. She deserves a little something extra for her patience.

All this reminds me of the funniest real pharma insert I've seen. Have you ever read the fine print on some of these? This was for a well-known sleeping aid. It had the familiar charts displaying the adverse events that had been noted in clinical trial subjects. After all the various bodily systems and their related side effects were listed, there was a mysterious category of "social circumstances." Here it was noted that one research subject, after consuming the sleeping aid, had experienced "exposure to poisonous plant." I tried to imagine... a crazed sleepwalker nibbling on a euphorbia? Running through a field of poison oak? The possibilities...

Mrs. Delany, Part II

2010-01-20T04:47:00.000-08:00

It was in the mid 1990s and we were getting ready for a trip to the UK. As I compiled a list of places I'd hoped to visit, I showed my husband a picture of one of Mary Delany's 18th C. "paper mosaics" (as she called them) in an old book. How nice, I said, if it turned out that I got to see one at the British Museum (which houses her work). He, a university researcher, told me to write to the B.M. and request to see the collection. I think I laughed. I had no academic affiliation. But I wrote anyway. They replied that I should call to arrange an appointment after I'd arrived, and to be sure to bring my passport to the Students' Room in the Department of Prints and Drawings when I got there.

I'd expected to spend a couple of hours looking at the Delanys. Given the context in which I'd only ever seen pictures of her work--old black and white crafts books and the like--I'd been under the impression that the paper mosaics were quaint little flower pictures--probably a curiosity, really.

Then I saw them in person. I was astonished by their intricacy and ingenuity. They had just the right kind of balance that collage work should have. They weren't pictures of flowers that happened to be done in cut paper, but, rather, the cut paper aspect was an integral part of their being. It provided a texture and blending of space and a sculptural element that another medium simply could not provide. How, I wondered, could these amazing, botanically accurate plant portraits in paper not be given more credit for their place in the history of collage?

But, then again, work in paper has traditionally never been taken all that seriously in the art world. It has been considered the stuff of commercial displays and folk crafts, unless, of course, it was taken up as a side venture by an established painter, á la Picasso or Matisse. Then it's been innovative. If it was done by an 18th C. female amateur and the subject matter was flowers...

What was originally supposed to have been an hour or two in the Students' Room turned, instead, into days of complete immersion in the Mary Delany collection. It was hard to pull myself from these incredible bits of cutting and pasting history.

And, it should be noted, history is a key word here. For Mary Delany herself was an interesting person. She was an 18th Century aristocrat who knew the King and Queen and their family. She mingled in circles with Handel and Swift, among others. The letters she wrote have been collected and published and are famed to this day. Many of the paper mosaics have, I discovered, notations on the back that recorded events that occurred as she worked on each piece. These include such things as visits from members of the Royal Family. These dated to around when the American Revolution was happening. She began to make the paper mosaics when she was 72, and continued until her eyesight failed ten years later. She made nearly 1,000 of them.

Fashions change, in art and opinion, and these days I'm beginning to feel vindicated. Mrs. Delany's reputation in collage, and, indeed, the status of art made from paper in general, is rising. I've been enjoying the recently released--and rather lush--companion book/catalogue for Mrs. Delany and Her Circle, an exhibit that ended this month at the Yale Center for British Art.

What a joy it is to read lavishly illustrated, serious essays about Mrs. Delany's place in paper art history. Among other things, it includes chapters devoted to the technical aspects of how the collages were made, as well as analyses of the papers and tools she used. It also includes top-notch reproductions of her work, not just of the collages, but of her drawings and of the embroidered court dress she made as well.

The dedication in Mrs. Delany and Her Circle is to Ruth Hayden, a descendent of Mary Delany's sister and the author of another recommended book, Mrs. Delany: Her Life and Her Flowers.

Earthquake

2010-01-10T01:36:00.000-08:00

We had a 6.5 magnitude earthquake yesterday, centered to the south of us here in Humboldt County. Fortunately for us, we shook a lot and lost our electric for several hours, but there was no damage and nothing fell off the shelves here at home. People we know who are not that far to the south didn't get off quite so lucky.

The photo above was taken at the seaside in the town I live near, Trinidad, about a week ago. This general area is scenic, but seismically scary. A few major tectonic plates converge here. Eighteen years ago we had a series of three major earthquakes over two days. It was the only time I've ever seen an entire house (the one I was living in) wag vigorously back and forth. I wound up with a deep appreciation for the flexible wooden buildings we have here in California (nothing, miraculously, broke in spite of that motion).

Our most recent event made the national news. This coverage [update: since removed] from the San Jose paper includes a couple of YouTube videos. One of these is like a Humboldt County joke--it shows a bunch of people standing around in the woods like stunned deer, wondering if a redwood will fall on them. Sigh.

Arachnid Visitors

2010-01-01T03:57:00.000-08:00

This doesn't have anything to do with paper or art. But since I started this blog nearly a year ago mentioning the black widows in my studio, I thought I'd kick off the new year with another black widow in the studio story. Yesterday afternoon I reached behind my cutting table to grab a piece of cardboard. Suddenly, a you-know-what was scurrying toward my hand.

Mercifully, she then turned and ran like hell in the other direction. Still, one does not want to be holding a piece of cardboard with a startled black widow running around on it. I caught her and put her outside. I imagine she's left some cousins and sisters and maybe an egg sack or two behind. They hide well.

So I was amused to run across this old story on the BBC today. They're so common around here. Apparently, they are quite a rare sensation when they show up in Wales.

700 eggs in the egg sack?

International Postcard Project

2009-12-23T15:55:00.000-08:00

A while back I was sent an intriguing call for entries for an international mail art project that Helen Allsebrook was organizing in Bristol, England. I decided to sign up. Several weeks passed and I forgot about it. Then a mysterious packet arrived at my post office. It was from Bristol.

The format turned out to be a set of three postcards to be completed by sets of participants. The first person chooses a postcard to do, then passes it on to the next person on the list, who then picks one of the remaining two cards to work on. The third person finishes up and sends the accordion of postcards back to Helen, who will be combining all the submissions into an April exhibit at the University of the West of England. The show might, after that, be traveling to Rochester, New York.

I was the third person of my group, the last to get the cards. The back side of my postcard came preprinted with a text about monkeys in a botanical garden:

"Monkeys in Botanical Garden...These evergreen gardens are situated at Cluny Road, less than two miles from the town. A well known beauty spot that has never failed to attract a cosmopolitan crowd of visitors."

Since my own garden happens to be carnivorous, that is what came to mind. It was to be a collage using, partly, inkjet printouts of stock pics and my own photos. Then my printer died. This must be something karmic to do with me and international art projects based in Bristol. My last two printers each went gears up while printing out bookmarks for the Bristol-based Bookmarks VI and VII. That last printer fiasco happened a mere 5 months ago.

And so, I spent a hunk of the last week waiting for a new printer. In the end, it was fun. I look forward to seeing pictures of the resulting show (or two). Thanks to Helen for organizing this massive endeavor involving 240 participants. She also passed along a few links to others who've posted stuff about their submissions: Debra James Percival in Ottawa, Jackie Batey of Damp Flat Books in Brighton, Steve Hanson in Wales, and Rose Enright in London.

Pharma Shrine

2009-12-21T01:35:00.000-08:00

This pharmaceutical shrine has been a long-term recreational project. It still needs more work on the outside. Here's a peek of (mostly) the inside, which is just about finished. Those are tiny Rx pads on the bottom shelf. The thing on the side that says "3 mg" is a pull-out display tray. I might put some more samples or pharma credit-type cards in it (yes, such things exist). I embedded magnets under the doors so that they shut with a satisfying snap.

At Last, a Little Bit of Studio Stuff

2009-12-14T04:19:00.001-08:00

Finally, I've been able to spend a little bit of time here and there in the studio. After a longish period of not being able to do much, I'm trying to get caught up on some projects. For one, I'm completing a couple more copies of the Literary Cure (pictured at right). This particular small edition seems to be developing a following. I hadn't realized that the concept of literature as pharmaceutical would resonate so well with others.

Here are some mini book blocks drying while clamped in small clothespins. They will be trimmed down and have covers added later.

Then they will eventually be put in capsules. Here's another example of what the finished encapsulated books look like.

There are also little book-like items with printing on them that are clamped and drying with the others (in the picture before last). They are miniature prescription pads for a pharmaceutical shrine I'm finishing up.

This is a sneak peek through one open side. Better pics of this will appear in a few days, hopefully photographed well enough so that you'll be able to appreciate the gold-leafed interior and offerings.

And while I'm at my messy worktable, I'll show a couple of my favorite tools that are sitting here. Top left is an ergonomically shaped teflon folder. It makes folding papers so much easier. The blue item is my British scalpel handle, which makes grasping the scalpel easier. In general, I prefer working with scalpels rather than craft knives.

More soon as things progress . . .

Don't Underestimate Boys

2009-12-08T01:06:00.000-08:00

A while back I came across a blog thread that was, more or less, about girls and boys and bookmaking (unfortunately, I lost the link). The artist had shown some pictures of a gift set she'd made for a little girl's birthday present. It included a customized journal/book and some other customized things to go along with it. The women commenting on the site oowed and ahhed, and said what a lucky little girl the recipient was. And then someone chimed in (the way I remember it) that it was a shame that little boys only cared about things like legos and super-heroes. She'd sure like to make gifts like that too, but only had little boys in her life. They wouldn't like gifts like that. I felt sad for the little boys in her life.

Two of the biggest artists' books fans I know are twin 7 year old boys, the sons of a friend of mine. They are normal, lego-loving boys. And they are completely fascinated by book structures. One year (6th birthday? I'm losing track...) I made them each a flag book with blank tabs surrounding the name of each boy, with the idea that they should decorate and customize the books themselves. To my surprise, those flag books seemed to be the hit of the party. One of the twins called it his "magic book." Another time, I gave them personalized little pamphlet-style books, and they, apparently, are still pasting things into them and using them. At the moment, they're waiting to hold me to a promise to come over to make books with them. When their mom had mentioned something about my studio, last time I saw them, little 7 year old D.'s eyes grew huge with excitement. "You have a studio! A real art studio!" You might as well have announced that I had my own train in the backyard. He wants to come see the studio.

I used to be afraid that they'd be disappointed if I were to give them homemade gifts, rather than some perhaps more cool or coveted thing from the toy store. It turned out that they have genuinely liked their handcrafted cards and gifts. I always let them know that they can learn to make the same kinds of things themselves, too. It had never occurred to me that because they are boys I was supposed to assume they wouldn't be interested in handmade books and art-related activities. Boys deserve better than that.

Wheels for Big and Small

2009-12-05T05:23:00.000-08:00

A beloved friend passed away last month. He'd been ill. It wasn't a surprise. But still very sad. He'd been a BIG person...in every way. Big personality, big physical presence. Before he'd become too sick, he'd also been a gunsmith. Imagine a very large, loud-voiced (often spewing loud expletives) guy working away in the gun shop. I used to delight in sending him birthday cards each year that were childlike, such as one with a crayon stick-figure drawing of him holding a pistol and saying "Bang! Bang!" We were opposites, but we'd always had a lot of affection for each other.

One birthday, my juvenile "card" offering was a Matchbox car that I'd glued a trailing banner onto, with the words to Happy Birthday written out. The tiny banner was rolled up and tied to the roof, to be untied and unrolled for reading. I was told later that one of his young grandsons was enthralled with the car and wanted to play with it every time he visited. The little guy was gently told it wasn't really a toy, so he should only just look at it. (My, did I feel mean!)

Recently, I needed some kind of birthday cards for a set of twins, children of another friend, who were turning 7. I decided to make a couple of the banner cars. I found matching Matchbox cars and customized them for each boy. They were well received.

Come springtime when his own birthday rolls around, I have a suspicion that my friend's grandson will be getting his very own happy birthday car just like the one his bampa had. And it will come with explicit instructions that he should be allowed to do whatever he darn well pleases with it (although I'm sure his bampa wouldn't have said "darn"). This is part of my unofficial campaign to plant subliminal thoughts in my friends' children that art can be fun. It doesn't have to be serious. Silly is good, no matter what size you are.

Pop-up Collection Video from Australia

2009-11-25T15:13:00.000-08:00

This segment from a show about collectors was originally broadcast in Australia back in March. Carol Barton also mentioned it on one of her blogs. Says the blurb:
Graphic designer Corrie Allegro has an immense collection of 3,500 pop-up books collected over 30 years and including four Australian-produced books. The collection dates from the 1830s to the present day, with over 90 pre-1940s books. The books were created by “Paper Engineers” and not made just for children, but rather for adults and students, to explain things - how architecture and famous buildings, the human anatomy and plants and animals work. The earliest pop-up books were made in the 1500s, but they weren’t produced in quantities till the 1860s. Early books illustrated astronomical and scientific works, and it wasn’t till the 18th century that pop-up books were produced for children. The collection includes books illustrated by well known Australian designers such as Graeme Base’s My Grandma lived in Gooliculch, and political cartoonist and satirist, Patrick Cook‘s The Pop-Up Waltzing Matilda. The oldest book in the collection is Metamorphosis which was produced in 1830.

Corrie says, “It all started by coming across a simple pop-up book in London in 1978. As a graphic designer working with paper, textures and colours ….I was hooked. The beauty lies in the unlimited possibilities of designing 2-D images that ‘come to life’ by turning a page”

Julie Chen Videos and Magnetic Attraction

2009-11-16T13:13:00.000-08:00

Last March Julie Chen came up here to Humboldt to give one of her "Book Brain" workshops to the book arts group I belong to. It was a good experience, and I can highly recommend it to anyone who is thinking about taking one of her classes.

Julie was featured several weeks ago on the PBS show Craft in America. It used to be available for viewing at the PBS site, but they've since removed it (how unkind of them). You can still see a couple of segments from it here and here. I particularly liked one quote from her. Talking about how she uses skills from traditional bookmaking and printing to make beautiful objects, she stresses that creating an attractive item is not the end purpose. The polished look and the methods used in the construction of the books are there to help support the content. "Everything that goes into the piece should contribute to the meaning of the piece," she says.

While poking around I found another interesting Julie Chen video from 2004 that originally aired on the San Francisco PBS station KQED. One of the scenes that awakened my fuzzy brain was of Julie showing some of her books to her students at Mills College. One is a carousel-style piece that is held in its open display position with magnets, rather than with ties or whatever. How clever. It made me want to pull out my own magnet collection, which I got a long time ago from K & J Magnetics on the advice of another book artist (who, in turn, had gotten the idea originally from Julie Chen). These particular magnets are tiny, yet very strong, making them ideal to embed in book board and such. Or at least that's the idea. When I played around with mine I found that the magnetic pull wasn't quite strong enough once the book cloth and such were added on top. Perhaps I hadn't been using the best sized magnets, or enough of them. At any rate, I think I might have to give it another try. The video also shows Julie paper shopping at Flax in San Francisco. Just the sight of all those flat files bulging with paper makes my heart pound..

Mrs. Mary Delany

2009-10-30T03:07:00.000-07:00

Art historians annoy me. Nothing personal if you happen to be one, mind you. It's just that I get ticked off whenever I read an official art history version of how collage came to be. The Cubists, we are told, invented collage. When Picasso and Braque decided to paste some scraps to their paintings, this became a brilliant revelation that changed the course of modern art. Bleh. People had been doing things, some of it quite interesting, with cut paper for centuries before the Cubists. But generally these people were women or peasants or their day jobs didn't involve working in a traditionally accepted fine art medium such as oil paint, so they don't count.

The Georgian aristocrat Mrs. Mary Delany (1700-1788) was one of those interesting characters in collage history. I wrote about her on my website:

Beginning at age 72 and continuing for ten years until her eyesight began to fail, she created almost 1,000 botanical illustrations from cut paper. Her pictures were made with incredibly intricate detail. She would cut out with exact precision each tiny detail of a plant—individual stamens, bits of pollen, cactus spines... She called her works “Paper Mosaicks.”

One of the great joys of my life was getting to study a majority of these in the Department of Prints and Drawings at the British Museum. They have now scanned the entire collection of nearly 1,000 of these works and made it available online.

And while I was browsing on the web, I discovered that the Yale Center for British Art is currently having a show that seems to cover similar material to the radio program. It even got a mention on a NY Times blog, and a nice review of it was in the Hartford Courant [update--since deleted]. It ends by saying "...Delany, in her quiet way, continues to influence artists hundreds of years later." She certainly has influenced me.

Going Viral

2009-10-24T17:50:00.000-07:00

Ok...this isn't paper-based art, but Luke Jerram's glass sculptures of viruses are fascinating. And he does touch on an interesting question in regards to traditional biomedical illustration. According to the website:

These transparent glass sculptures were created to contemplate the global impact of each disease and to consider how the artificial colouring of scientific imagery affects our understanding of phenomena. Jerram is exploring the tension between the artworks' beauty and what they represent, their impact on humanity.

The question of pseudo-colouring in biomedicine and its use for science communicative purposes, is a vast and complex subject. If some images are coloured for scientific purposes, and others altered simply for aesthetic reasons, how can a viewer tell the difference? How many people believe viruses are brightly coloured?

Joan Gold's New Blog

2009-10-20T01:59:00.000-07:00

My painter friend Joan just launched her first blog. Joan is a master colorist. Color and composition are what her works are all about—pure, joyful color. Imagine being in a room surrounded by big paintings that look like these, and tell me it wouldn't afterward make you want to race straight to your own studio (or other preferred art-making space). It's like listening to music that compels you to dance. Even though my own work is so completely different, and even in different media, I find Joan's studio and her shows quite inspiring. They connect to that primal part of my brain that lusts for texture, color and the smell of paint.

Bookmarks VII Update

2009-10-04T00:36:00.000-07:00

A while ago I mentioned that I was taking part in Bookmarks VII, the latest installment of an international book arts project organized through the Centre for Fine Print Research at the University of the West of England in Bristol. Book artists from around the world contribute an edition of 100 bookmarks for free distribution to chosen venues such as bookstores, libraries, galleries and schools in different countries.

The idea is to introduce more people to book art, while allowing the artists to get their work out to a broad array of the public. Each artist also gets to keep a collated set of everyone's bookmarks. This was the third time I've taken part. I must say, it's exciting to get that bundle in the mail, filled with little works of art. My edition of 4 designs is described on their website as well as in my earlier post.

This year has another local twist. Eureka Books, which also just hosted the North Redwoods Book Arts Guild exhibition I'd been making stuff for, is, for the first time, one of the worldwide distribution points (one of only 3 in the US). It's wonderful to see book art, and book artists, getting all this attention in our little remote corner of the world.

Brimstone and Dreamweaver

2009-10-01T02:30:00.000-07:00

I have been trying to update my website for roughly the past five years. I originally was going to hire someone to do it. I knew nothing about making a website. After hiring and firing two "designers," a friend who was in a web design program at the local junior college offered to do it. This seemed perfect... until she took my first $100 payment, skipped town and wouldn't reply to any of my messages. This was a couple of years ago. I still haven't heard from her.

Then I decided I was going to have to do it myself. There's been a running joke around our house these past few months. "Do you hear something? Is the house possessed? That wailing and moaning... The agonized cries of tormented, damned souls are filtering up from hell!....No? Wait.... oh, it's just Ellen working on Dreamweaver."

At last, the big event happened this week. I hit "put" and it went live. I finally have a website again. I feel like the tortoise that just crossed the finish line. Or a damned soul who just got a pardon.

The site is Zebra Crossing Picture Factory, or zebracrossing.org

Recognition for a Papermaker

2009-09-24T04:21:00.000-07:00

Several years ago I stumbled upon Japanese Papermaking: Traditions, Tools and Techniques in the local university library. I wasn't a papermaker, but wanted to know a bit more about the topic. The book turned out to be an enjoyable mélange of travel writing, ethnobotany, history and detailed fine craft how-to. Up to then I wasn't all that familiar with the author, Timothy Barrett, but soon came to know that he's a respected presence in the paper and book world, and is affiliated with the University of Iowa Center for the Book.

I was pleased to hear that Timothy Barrett was just named a recipient of a 2009 MacArthur Fellowship. One doesn't usually expect to find the likes of papermakers included in such honors. In a recent press release Timothy says,

People have asked me how it feels to receive this award....More than the money, I have to say I've been moved by the recognition. I've spent most of my career focused on the history, technique, science and aesthetics of hand papermaking. I've been lucky to be a part of the UI Center for the Book for the last 23 years because, in general, career tracks in my specialty are few and far between. So it is very much to the MacArthur Foundation's credit that they acknowledge creativity in new fields of study, as well as in established disciplines.

Indeed.

Bookshelf in a matchbox

2009-09-22T02:55:00.001-07:00

Another Flickr find. Not quite as small as capsule-sized, but pretty teeny. This is from Buechertiger in Bonn, Germany. If you go to look, I recommend having a peek at the individual book pictures too. Coptic endbands the size of pinheads?

Bookshelf in a matchbox
Originally uploaded by buechertiger

Paste Paper Part Two

2009-09-20T00:38:00.000-07:00

A while back I was on the hunt for a decent pasting brush. I'd been using standard cheap brushes, and had invested in a more traditional round brush (for clear paste), which wasn't going to be helpful for painting. None of the brushes I'd tried really worked well.

One day I was browsing in the hardware store. On a whim, I decided to treat myself to a fairly good synthetic house painting brush. The bristles were firm, but not too stiff. As it turned out, it was the best brush I'd ever used for such purposes. Paste flows smoothly and the hairs don't fall out. It's quickly turned into one of those things I wouldn't want to be without. I wound up getting more in different sizes and with different handles. You really do get what you pay for. Now that I've experienced these, I never want to go back to the $1 specials!

If you want to make paste paper, good brushes will make a difference. My favorite paste recipe comes from Diane Maurer-Mathison:

Blend 1/4 C. cornstarch (or tapioca flour, etc.) with 1/4 C. water.

Add 1 C. water and heat on medium high, stirring with a whisk until it thickens.

Remove from heat. Add 1/2 C. water and let it cool thoroughly. Strain if necessary. When cool, divide into containers. I use roughly 1/4 cup of paste for each color, but this can be varied. Add a teaspoon or two of acrylic or watercolor paint to each portion of paste. I sometimes will also add a few drops of glycerin to ensure that the dried paste painting remains pliable enough for folding without cracking. But this additive is certainly not essential, and most paste papers work fine for books or cards without it.

This paper was done with copper acrylic paint mixed into the paste, painted on black paper. The pattern was created with a dental tool that came as a freebie from somewhere. I think it's supposed to be some sort of tongue cleaning device, but I much prefer it as an art supply. This dental tool decorated paper is in honor of a friend who almost just needed a root canal. (Hi there, M!)

The blue one below was done on Tyvek. The results tend to be a little more muted than when done on paper, but that often adds to the interesting effect. The golden pattern was done on the shiny side of some Japanese Masa paper. Most of the others (examples in the previous post) were done on Strathmore drawing paper, which I've found to be extremely versatile. In another post, I'll show the step-by-step process for wet on wet paste painting on plexiglass.

Paste Paper, with Diversion on the Uses of Methylcellulose

2009-09-15T05:39:00.000-07:00

I went to a paste paper workshop last weekend. The instructor was nice and the company fun. I hadn't had an extended stretch of paper decorating in a long time. I picked up a few new tips and tried a different way of making paste paper. It was enjoyable.

But, as it turned out, I wasn't crazy about the way we were doing the papers. I'd originally learned to do paste painting on wet paper stretched taut on plexiglass. In this workshop we worked on dry paper. Judging from what I've read over the years, some people can do it this way. But I don't seem to be one of them. The paper curled and I found the process exasperating. Furthermore, we were using methylcellulose. Again, a lot of people do it this way. I've even made some pleasing methylcellulose paste papers over the years. But I usually prefer to use some kind of starch-based paste for the better detail provided. Once the papers from the workshop had dried, I wound up with hardly any that I liked.

However, I still found the class valuable. It reminded me how much I used to like to decorate paper. A few days later when I was back in my own studio and had access to my stove, I boiled myself up some paste, pulled out my sheet of plexiglass and a tray of water, and treated myself to some paper decorating satisfaction. The designs you see here are details from a couple of those papers.

I'm highly gluten sensitive and have some weird allergies, so I have to make my own baked goods from scratch. The upside of this is I get to have on hand all kinds of ingredients that some people might find strange, including a variety of wheatless starches—tapioca, arrowroot, and amaranth—along with the ubiquitous corn. I've made paste out of them all, as well as out of rice flour and some rice starch that I'd actually bought for making paste rather than for baking. All of the starch-based pastes are pretty similar in texture and workability, although the amaranth is a bit heavier and has a warm color cast to it.

The canister of methylcellulose that I've been using for years, in fact, came from a gluten free food supply company. It was meant to be used as a gluten substitute in baking (although I've never used it for that, only for bookmaking and paper work). It was less expensive than any methylcellulose I've ever seen in an art store, yet seems to be exactly the same stuff. Out of curiosity when I was writing this post, I looked to see if that company still sold it (it's not actually a popular gluten free additive for home cooks). Sadly, they do not, but I discovered some interesting facts about our old friend methylcel. In addition to being used by bookbinders and food manufacturers, it is widely used as an emulsifier and thickener in cosmetics and shampoos and is a common ingredient in pharmaceuticals. In fact, it is the "cel" in the laxative citrucel. Gelatin-free capsules are often made of it, as are the eyedrops that I use. Virologists and stem cell researchers use it in the lab. It is a base for creating fake slime and goo in movies (it was used in Ghostbusters, for instance). It is also, alas, used in the porn movie industry to simulate...things best not thought about.

Miraculous stuff, but nonetheless I prefer my starch-based painting mixtures. I have a further thought on paste painting, but it will have to wait until the next post.

Sticks and Chains and Waxed Paper in the Studio

2009-09-10T23:59:00.000-07:00

One night as I was flailing with gunk-covered hands for some freezer paper or waxed paper or some such, inspiration struck. The resulting roll holder has worked so well, I thought I'd post pictures. The whole thing hangs down from underneath the side of a table, so it doesn't take up any space.

There was also already a nail above, and that turned out to be perfect for holding a letter-opener type cutting implement, which is great for slicing off pieces of freezer paper.

The green stuff on the tabletop in the first picture is some used stencil material. It doesn't have anything to do with storing rolls of waxed paper. As I say to every visitor, don't mind the mess!