After I had finished drilling the other night I soaked the alphabet in water and tied it up in desperation. I was giving it a bath. It needed to relax, probably I needed to relax. A friend, Rosie, [link here and here] talking about the [w] hole thing, quipped that the process was getting violent. She mentioned drowning, shooting. Mmmmn, she had a point. Things were not going the way I expected or hoped. Not being able to saw through the holes was a blow. It's still not totally dry but some of what has happened I love; the wrinkling and curling of the paper, the new texture of the paper [it feels so much thicker, more substantial]. I love the bound edge curling back on itself. In fact it's the paper, that has so much vitality and life, that intrigues and moves me. The holes give it the sense of braille, another form of an alphabet.
|After a bath the bound alphabet|
|Opening the pages|
|View through the holes|
|Water meets binding|