A flower pot? A bird's nest? A book!

Like Rafe, I get a little intimidated when I look at artist's books. I tend to have tunnel vision (at times) in the way I work (and write), soft and small is my path. In creativity class, I made a little book that I really loved: it was purple, and I painted the inside pages with water colors.

Later, when I tried to create something larger (for my final), it fell apart, literally. What a bummer. I won't be putting an image of that here.

I think I was drawn to Leijonstedt (she only gave one name--like Madonna) because she is so far beyond the edges of my comfort zone that is both scary and inspiring to see where creativity can take you in book-making. Her work is varied, from the more traditional bound versions of existing texts to scuptural works that push the boundaries of what can be considered a book. All her work seems to be centered in nature, structurally or in terms of her color palette. They all feel connected to earth and time. This is her hand bound version of A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf:

I just want to hold this in my hand to know what the texture of that cover feels like. What I liked the most about her work, however, were her sculptured books, particularly Paradise Found.

She doesn't explain exactly what materials she used for this one, but everything seems so textured, soft and moveable. She actually writes a small argument on her site about why this should be considered a book: there are pages with handwriting on them (handwriting!), they are bound within this flower-pot type structure, and they can be enclosed with the binding. I would never (or maybe I shouldn't say never. . .) think to make a book like this, but, WOW, how beautiful! I would love to have this sitting on my coffee table or in my office. I think the experiance of reading this would be so wonderfully -- what's the word? -- kinesthetic? This is the perfect blend of book and artwork, in the way that it could be viewed as both or either. It looks like a garden when it's closed, a nest when it's open -- so many possibilities! Leijonstedt says that she thinks a book can not only be read through its literal pages, but also "from its tactile details and structural function." I would like to think that, as I move forward in the course, I will begin to think more about writing the structure and material of a book, allowing them to be read along with the words inside.