About ten years ago, I became obsessed with bookbinding. Feeling different papers, glues, cardboard and fabrics. I would make tiny books and send them all over the world, and receive tiny books back. It was always so exciting to find a thick envelope in my mailbox. I would count the stamps. I would study the postage marks. But most of all, I would think about the person who made the book. How they might have felt for certain textures on papers. Cut edges so they fit just so.

Admittedly, my interest has wained over recent years. However, I carry a handmade notebook in my purse at all times, and it accumulates my sketches and collages until its filled. Here are a few pages from the latest, which I'll soon be sending off to a dear friend across America:


Sarah Marie said...

this is SO, SO neat. I love it!!!! Your friend who is about to receive it is so lucky! What fun. One of my pals made me something like this once and I adore it. Yours is way more in depth. If that makes sense. I dunno what I'm saying but I really like what you've created!

Laura said...

Did you raid our garbage can before I left? I'd recognize those scraps anywhere. I love these babies and all the newly posted works. You have definitely found your style. I love you.

Aurore said...

Sarah-I'd love to see what your friend made for you!

Laura-yep, those are the scraps. Now they've been shown and are on their way to New York.