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This week I am going to talk about the very, very tedious process of making a book. After I finished putting together a limited edition of Lost Time I wanted to return to the drawing into of existing marks. The pages were made from chemically rusted papers that create their own patterns as they are dipped and maneuvered before being allowed to dry. Much of page has is colored with soft golds and beiges. They are a perfect complement for graphite.

With the pages I had left in the pile, I pulled out the ones that seem to suggest and accommodate the narrative for my story about pursuits in life. There were to be no words like in the Lost Time book, just pictures. And it had to be larger – maybe 10″ x 8″. But what really determines the size of a book for me is what my printer will take in paper size. The larger Epson Photo Stylus R3000 has a daunting cost of nearly $300 to replace the multi colored cartridge. So I went back to the possibilities of what my Epson XP-600 could offer. This printer will only take 8.5 by 11″ papers and the cost of replacing ink cartridges is considerably less expensive.

But first the illustrations:

These are the papers laid out in how the colors flow together. There are no illustrations drawn in until I see if there is enough paper. Then I decide what each page should have drawn into it to carry the story forward. Remember there are no words – this is to be a picture book.

And sometimes a sheet is wasted due to having an idea that simply does not work.  See below.

This foot of the man stepping into the rabbit hole was heading in the wrong direction for one and when reversed in a photo program, it still was wrong. It was simply too big. The more I looked at it the more I did not like it. Best to put it away from the other blank pages. Rethink how to get him down there.

Here he is stepping in just over the rabbit’s head and I get to introduce the rabbit in a very large way due to the way marks existed on the paper. I really like this rabbit. Keeping the story moving and the background colors continually flowing was a concern and some of the papers and even the illustrations moved about in the order I originally laid out.

Some pages were just so lovely on their own that very little drawing was needed. The rabbit continues to leave things for his hunter to enjoy more than the hunt itself.

When all the twelve illustrations and cover are finished, the fun part is pretty much over. The rest is work! Each one must be scanned into the computer. I prefer my HP Scanjet G4050 for this as it takes a larger size page and these originals are sized at 7.5″ x 11″. To get a proper color reading I prefer to put black paper behind my image so that the scanner does not make its own decision as to where the edges should be. I can do that in the scanning program before saving it. Of course each of them will be taken into a photo program (I use the free Fast Stone one) and be corrected if there is any tiny black along an edge that will show up later. Note the one above on the left side before it was corrected.

All of these images are scanned at the highest resolution possible for the scanner. I want all those subtle marks to show if possible.

After scanning and then the images being corrected in Fast Stone, they are adjusted in another free photo program I have come to count on called Paint.NET. There is lots I can do in this program and it is an easy one to figure out.

But regardless of what it looks like on the computer screen, you still have to see it in print. This is a bit painful as you watch your ink levels go down deciding on the correct size and how the pages will connect to one another.

Much as I hate to do it, the only way to get the picture book the size I want is to not only hinge the pages in the back but the foredge as well. This will be a pain to put together. The Lost Time book was small enough to have a folded foredge but I want Down the Rabbit Hole to be bigger. It is a picture book. There is not the intimacy of words carrying the story as well as the illustrations.

So I test out each page after making the decision on paper weight, borders and size. Luckily very few of these had to go back into a photo program to be adjusted. Each of these are saved after making sure that “best photo” is checked and the proper paper type logged in.

Finally there is the question of what font to use for the title page and colophon and then laying those two pages out in my Microsoft Publisher program. Every page and front and back covers are now saved in Publisher. I am hopelessly schooled in PC and have no way of changing to a likely more artist-friendly Mac. I need to work with what I have.

For now I think the book will be soft covered like Lost Time. I have increased their sizes to accommodate the minute addition of double hinging and I might want the back cover to wrap around to make the spine. This book will look similar to Lost Time only it will be about twice the size all round.

The one thing I do know about this whole process is that you just have to love your own ideas enough to see them through. An edition of only twenty will be just about enough to exhaust that love.

About thirty years ago when I was a member of a weaving guild I took a weekend workshop in weaving our identity. Being a literal thinker I warped my small portable loom to make a self portrait using the tubular weaving technique that allows for the figure to be stuffed while still on the loom if desired. I saw myself as medium length grey hair, always choosing to wear pants over dresses, and a bit of a hippy. I still have blue eyes, still think earrings are like underwear and saw myself as a happy person. Since I was also firmly involved in basket making, I stuffed some of those materials coming out of my head. And when I did that I knew she was not complete as a self portrait at that time if she was not housed in a basket – of course! So here I am – in and out of my perceived place of belonging in the late eighties.

She hangs in the guest room near another weaver’s interpretation in figure form of how I looked selling my wares at a Renaissance Fair. Both the figure I wove of me and the basket she sits in were done on the same loom with the same warp threads – just a simple matter of spreading them out further to accommodate the corn husks, raffia, reed, heavy yarns and of course beads.

It was fun to do. I did not have to think about anything but fitting materials to techniques and techniques to materials. It was simply a portrait in fibers – nothing more. It was meant to be a singular piece, not part of a series and definitely not for sale. If there was ever an intention of having this piece say “art”, it would be impossible. There is way too much immediate evidence of materials and techniques. And that makes it “craft”. In this case not even that good of craft. Others in the classroom had much better command of their abilities to weave finely shaped forms with appropriate materials. And still even their self portraits were not “art”. They were not an idea fixed in form. An idea that gives the viewer pause to look at what might be being said in the work. All our pieces simply called out to the viewer that we all made doll-like figures on looms with yarn. Nothing more to think about except perhaps how well we each accomplished that goal.

When I moved to North Carolina and went back to college to get my Bachelor of Fine Arts and then on to graduate school, I was introduced to “the art world”. No one cared about “how” I made something but “why”. Then if my intentions were clear and not buried under materials and techniques that spoke more about good (or poor) craftsmanship than about whatever my issue at the time was. And those issues had wide ranges at the time – from the war in Bosnia to the fading of a patriarchal system adrift in feminist theory.

I had a lot to say – a lot to talk about. And in an area where craft is livelihood it was hard to find those passionate about their ideas and doing whatever it took to get those ideas across in a visual form to  share in publications and exhibitions.

And I am not talking about someone who is trying to make the most beautiful basket or exquisitely crafted jewelry, clothing, furniture, pottery, etc. Those are all made with the intention of being decorative art, functional art/craft but not an idea fixed in a form and presented as simply as that – a visual thought that the viewer looks at and says, “Here is something that the artist intended me to be a part of – to experience – to feel.”

Art is not “better” than craft. It is simply different.

If you are in a craft guild, then the talk will invariably all be about “how” and then “how much?” “How did you make it, how much time did it take and how much does it cost?”

Art in a way is so much simpler. It is only about “What are you saying here?” And “Why?” Craftsmanship is only there in service to the idea, not to become the dominate feature.

The above image is one of several “specimens” from the installation exhibition titled Expedition to Elsewhere: the Evidence. There is no way the viewer is looking at craftsmanship here. It is purely “What and Why”.

Finding my people to talk to about art took time and the formation of an art group. We have met continually for more than fifteen years. Some have left due to being more about the how and others because of lack of passion for their own work or interest in the rest of ours. But now we are a hard core group who meet once a month to talk about what matters to us to make. The only “hows” are how we feel about those efforts.

Here is a list of questions for those interested in starting an art group of their own.

QUESTIONS WHICH HELP TO ESTABLISH THE OBJECTIVES OF AN ARTISTS’ ORGANIZATION:

By Sandy Webster

1. What do you want from these meetings?

2. How often should we meet?

3. Where do we meet?

4. Will everyone bring work each time?

5. Will there be a progression in the work?

6. Can there be a clear statement (written) by each participant on where they want their work to go and how they plan to see it through?

*Note:

We just had our last meeting of the year on Sunday. We meet at 2pm and take turns talking about our work in my studio until dinner time when we stop, eat together and everyone leaves. There is always wine and appetizers. There is always art to be discussed. We are a close group and have total trust that what we are feeling and doing matters – to all of us. It takes time and it is so very worth it.