I love books.   Always have.  I love how they smell and feel, their different textures and sizes, the way they weigh in my hands and lap, and the foreplay of their pages against my fingertips.  I love the personality of their Titles  and  colorful covers and even their solid-colored covers with no text—that’s so sexy. And how their inner parts get laid, overlaid, blocked,  flushed, and  s           t           r           e           w           n   across the territory of pages for readers’ consumption.  The more delicious the content, the better.                 
 
I love making books, too, in all sizes and shapes using all kinds of materials.  It’s a high form of meditation that centers me completely in the present, in that holy state of “no mind” where thoughts yield to pure creative impulses.  That’s where all the magic happens.  That’s where the art gets made. 
 
It’s in every piece of paper, every color, word, font, visual, and anything I can affix to the surface.  It’s in every stitch of the spine, every layer of glue, and each meticulously measured and cut cover board.  Being a visual artist, writer, and publication designer, I overstand how every element contributes to the whole.  It’s a fine, intricate, communal art form. 
 
I’ve found bookmaking to be the perfect medium for channeling my visual+­literary passions simultaneously.  I may start out with an idea for one kind of book, but the finished piece is always a surprise.  It may end up as a box book made of cigar boxes or a 1-page book anchored to a floor tile or a journal quilt composed of pages from my many journals. All I have to do is trust my creative process implicitly and not be attached to outcomes. Forget about making perfect art.  It’s all about showing up to the work at hand.  And if the work touches people even a little bit, then I am grateful.

My artbook muses are Jenny O'Grady, co-creator of our Dos-a-Dos book art exhibit and former Baker Award recipient; Nick Bantock; and poet Kendra Kopelke.