Ok. First the good news: The book is going well. It’s taking over my studio, but that was to be expected.
Now the bad news: I’m not going to be able to document it the way that I wanted. I wanted to photograph the whole book being slowly opened and show it shot by shot, but that is winding up to be really impractical given my space and time constraints. What’s more, the paper is fragile and while it most definitely will withstand being there in the gallery space for a month, I think it can probably only be opened and folded up about a dozen times before the paper starts to wear. In photographing the first section, I had to fold/unfold it at least that many times before I got just the right photo… and basically, I’m afraid I’ll screw up the book while documenting it. And, you know, it’s one kind of heartbreak when you screw up your work trying to get it to where you want it to be, and another entirely when you screw it up when it’s perfect and you’re just trying to photograph it. So you’ll have to take my word for it for now that it all folds up and then, when I go to install it (as part of that, the whole thing will be photographed) I’ll take more detailed pictures.
What’s more, it’s over 90 degrees in our apartment right now (no, my studio doesn’t have a/c), and I just couldn’t deal. So for right now, I’m just building the book and documenting what’s been built and then showing the intricate folds somewhere down the line. (The good part of this is that it will make updates come a lot quicker!)
So… here’s where we are…
From this view, you are at about halfway into the book. The trees (which I documented earlier) are at dead center; this new arrangement comes in at just left of the trees.
Going yet further left, we come to another house and a small lake which has fish in it. In the house is a girl who looks out the window:
and another looking into the lake. You can see from the picture above this one that the lake actually feeds out into a river that comes towards the viewer in this angle; I’ll document the rest of that part in a few days.
Going further left, we come to a cornfield, now only partially assembled:
The rest is going up tomorrow, just waiting for a few things to dry.
All around the image is a text that winds lazily around the edges of the paper:
The text reads (the part that is revealed up to this point, that is): So much in life seemed to be these contradictions – the places you are drawn to but feel you must never go to, how lonely everything was and yet how impossible to be alone. The sky, the air, the space between things was always full – always humming with activity – there was electricity all around us. The signal was constant if tiny, but there was finding it – which remained an endless task – and then there was getting rid of it. I knew that loneliness was a lie- that the world was so terrible crowded you were never alone but for a moment and that also, all the feelings I had of isolation and emptiness did nothing so important as to link me with an endless supply of people who felt the same way.
(An update to the update: I just freaked out and ordered a new a/c online. I mean, it’s only the first week of June and it’s already in the mid 90s? I need it.)