Leaving.

This is one of the first books I made out of handmade paper. The process occupied almost every square foot of my small living room and kitchen. The binding is actually embedded into the pages. It was really challenging trying to keep track of which string went where and I was pleasantly surprised when it all worked out. I left the binding threads hanging, long out of the sides of the pages because I thought it gave the book a more earth feel and the reader has to participate more to turn the pages, sweeping the strings out of the way. The text reads:

Leaving.

I would like to blow away with the
leaves today.
Surely some of them make it all the
way to Santa Fe.
There they catch in sagebrush with
local cotton wood leaves
to rest forever under snow and bright blue skies.
I would like to rest forever!
I would like to ride the wind and change colors.
I would like to fray and melt back into the earth.
I would like to mingle with stones and worms.,
to sink back to roots and feed new green leaves
who have yet to paint themselves and dance across city sidewalks.

What joy there is in sadness!
Those old leaves rattling about on the street
sing the meanest, low-downest blues I've ever heard.
But they feel no pain
even stuck in gutters and drain grating, soggy and forlorn.
They sing their blues for us.
They dance around our feet
lamenting the lives of such big, tall creatures
who never paint themselves red
or dance on the wind.