23 Mar 2011, 10:11pm
Arts Books General Photos Poets

Making Books

flutter books
Some of the handmade flutter books from the last few days.

What a marvelous time. Learning, discussing, free-flowing into group and solitary activities. Books everywhere we look. Doing something useful with the hands, learning, eating, sharing and teaching. A lovely group of people to spend a few days with. Thanks to TA Carter we got to hunker down for some writer time and in a gorgeous space.

die cut machine
Learning to use die cut presses.

Buried under that are some stamp kits and more bits and pieces of paper inspiration. Ideas come directly to the finger without the brain piping up its insistent voice. Who was it that said the next time you hear in your head how smart you are, consider the source. The brain thinks a lot of itself but the body can handle things on its own without the clever grey doodle up there being so front and centre.

Silences piled on silence. Not since the monestery time have I be in the hush of people who walk and move and talk or don’t talk but either with a quiet feel. Not a traffic sound around. How restorative that alone was!

Madawaska River
The Madawaska River with its ice floes floating by.

It’s hard to believe the day before that looked like this:
blowing snow

wipers can't wipe the low lying fog
It was a whole other season on our way up with wipers being no victor against fog.

oops express?
An odd business name even if it is a convenience store. Forget something?

Oh yes, some of the other little books I made
a pocket, a door, a flutter
on the 3-day writing retreat, reading, discussing, writing and making books one page at a time. The flutter book like the little orange one, or the doorways big white one is made without spine binding from a single sheet of paper with folds and cuts, variants of accordion-style such as this on p. 13 of the pdf. The white paper was made by The Grunge Papers. Other papers were brought in by various people of our haiku group.

Quote: “The Pause; that impressive silence, that eloquent silence, that geometrically progressive silence which often achieves a desired effect where no combination of words, however so felicitous, could accomplish it.” ~ Mark Twain

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