I’ve been doing some sewing work for a non-profit recently and it has left me with bits of silk which are less than ideal for the sewing but which, because they have a backing attached, are perfect for book covers. These are made with small scraps of old bridesmaid and prom dresses, glued, stamped and stenciled, and sewn with several different bindings.
This book, with green ribbons and green banana paper corners, is a variation on the slotted spine long-stitch in which the thread of every third signature is wrapped around the two earlier stitches, producing this cord.
I took a paper making class last fall where I experimented with all kinds of handmade papers using cotton, jeans, celery, beet leaves, and various pigments.
This book is one of several silkscreened portrait books I’ve made. The text surrounding the picture is the text to my poem, These Afternoons:
You, and the long afternoon
stretched out cool and grey
at your feet,
and the softness of this
hidden sun sky on your arms
and your eyes and the
angle and shape of your books forgotten,
in the grass.
My arms pale
and the leaves on my back cold and still
under the naked limbs of trees and sky.
My arms light and the wet undersides of
fallen leaves heaped here for me.
Only after, when the
day has closed up shop,
do I feel the cold down under my skin,
and the grey light has filled me in, bit by bit.
These afternoons are not long,
they are sinking down into the darkness,
more each day,
under piles of wet leaves.