"Did you ever really stare at me? Did you ever really stare?...

Did you ever really stare at me?
Like I stared at you."

I love this song, I can't stop listening to it, but I still hear, "Did you ever ride a bear for me," instead of, "Did you ever write a prayer for me."

I'm sorry, Annie Clark. Or, "You're welcome". I'm not sure which.

"Marry me, John, I'll be so good to you...

...you won't realize I'm gone."

Dear Interwebz, Dear Void:

If you were an actual person, this would be the most dysfunctional relationship on the planet. For one thing, we see each other way too much. 

I don't know what I'm doing on here, instead of sleeping in my (cold, empty) bed. 

Oh...

Well, when you put it that way...

It's coming up on the one year anniversary of my Granny's (death--say it!) passing, and am at a loss. I wasn't close to her before she died, and a curious feeling pangs against my chest when I hear family members say they feel that she's close by. It makes me wonder if there is a veil beyond our present reality. That her spirit, indeed, lingers, or if it's a symptom of phantom (Ha!) pain. 

People lose a leg and swear they're still wiggling their toes, why wouldn't you lose your Mom and not feel that she's close by? 

Before she died, I took to looking at the moon. Searching that rock for...for faith, I think. For some kind of comfort. Maybe a week after she died, I remember getting out of class and looking up at the moon, thinking about her. I remember thinking something along the lines of, "Will I always look at the moon and think of you? The way I never thought of you before?" I was barely to my car before a flood washed over me. 

I tried to picture her in the passenger seat, waiting to soothe me, and couldn't. I tried to will her to me, and still felt nothing. The more I tried to find her, the more alone I realized I truly was.

I would have given anything in that moment to feel connected to something closer than the moon. 

I'm sure there is a marvelously astute and poignant conclusion, but I can't think of it. I don't know how to end this (Boy, you just ain't whistlin' Dixie...). I set out to write something completely different. Something vapid and about sleep deprivation. Something about how well I was doing for a awhile, in terms of actually being tired before midnight, and getting up at a decent hour. But my Granny decided to finally visit.

My life is blessed, nothing can be said to the contrary. I feel so old, sometimes, though. Twenty-somethings don't go to class with blood on their glasses. Twenty-somethings don't sit alone in a studio while people are celebrating a wall away. Twenty-somethings don't spend their Friday nights writing about dead Grannies. You're not supposed to be this young and miss this many people.

Right?

-Emily

BookOpolis Submission!

"And David saw himself reflected in the Woodsman's eyes, and there he was no longer old but a young man, for a man is always his father's child no matter how old he is or how long they have been apart.


...And in the darkness David closed his eyes, as all that was lost was found again."
John Connolly, The Book of Lost Things

"The Book of Lost Things"
Completed May 2010
8 3/4" x 5 3/4" x 1"
The Book of Lost Things was a project that emanated from the idea of my Grandfather, and the struggle for release. Try as we might, I don't know if we ever fully let go. We haunt ourselves with the ghosts that time and memory make.  We treasure photos and trinkets that eventually become like framed insects. There they hang, dead on the wall. Reminding us of what time swallowed, and can never have back.

This was a final project for the Books Arts class taught Spring 2010 at Monterey Peninsula College by Denese Sanders, and the second altered book I've made. It's a rough product, but the roughness is a quality I think only adds to its charm. I consider it a product of someone young who was grieving, which is rarely a clean endeavor. For anyone.

This is the 7th year BookOpolis will be showcasing the work of contemporary book artists and printmakers at Asheville BookWorks. BookOpolis is a weekend event, and along with some fantastic work being displayed, offers such fun demonstrations as papermaking, letterpress printing, book binding. 


After BookOpolis weekend has concluded, a selection of work will remain on display in the BookWorks Gallery through November 28, 2011.


So, please wish me luck! I hope my piece will remain in North Carolina until the Winter! :)

 

Mucha master-copy for Painting class

"Mommy's dead. Daddy's dead. Brucie's dead. I think I'll become a bat."

 

 It's almost 5 in the morning, and here's a somewhat failed attempt to transfer a line image onto a linoleum covered woodblock. 

I had typed in, "Batman line art," into Google and stumbled upon this image. I'd certainly like to try this again, but next time I'll keep in mind to:

1.) Spray-fix the vine charcoal

2.) Not forget to cut away from myself. 

Waltz of the Flowers

My cousin's wife, Christina, has asked me me to help with a book making workshop at CSU Monterey Bay this month. I sent her the supply list from the pamphlet stitch binding in Bookcraft yesterday.

I was feeling a little anxious, not having gone through their instructions before, so I put together a few small books using "designer mat pad" I had picked up from Micheal's last year, and plain white computer paper. They were quite fun, and easy to make! I'll need to make a note to tell Christina that the mat pads are a wonderful option to making these little books.

Ah, excitement she wrote! 

(click to enlarge the photos) 

All in together Girls, it's fine weather Girls...

 

Thank god for keeping school handouts! It saved me an unnecessary amount of grief. This binding a non-adhesive binding, "sewing around tapes."

Unfortunately some grief seemed to seep through, and I can't say I'm satisfied with this book. But a start's a start! Chalking it up to a first step on the learning curve.

The front and back covers are comprised of book-board, a decorative cardstock and postcards from James Jean's XOXO: Hugs and Kisses 30 postcard set. 

More to come! I may go back and re-write this, when I'm not utterly brain-dead. Night, ya'll!

Stop me if you've heard this one...

Seriously, folks!

After a few languishing blogging attempts in the past, I hope this one will prove triumphant!

Fifth time's a charm, after all.

There's more to come soon! Books, magnificent books! And explanations!