Book One from Scotland

My trip to Scotland was rich with ideas and thoughts about making books. I made a quick, first book to bring to my book-making group for our twice yearly book exchange party. This is a simple accordion photo book portraying the wonderful sunsets I found in Scotland.


Pages are printed 2-up on 9″x12″ Co Mo Sketch, a soft finish, heavy drawing paper,  trimmed to 8×5″, and tabbed together. Finished book is 8.12×5.12″. Most photos were shot as panoramas on my iPhone 6.

A second copy is printed on Accent Opaque 100lb. cover, tabbed and bound similarly. Covers are Crescent board covered in Lokta and a simple collage made from previously printed pages.


This book taught me some lessons about printing. My first attempt was on a paper called Super Max text. It’s a lovely paper, but it didn’t take the ink very well. I don’t use photo paper, which might give me the best results, but would not be best in a bound book. I tried a second printing on Epson Presentation paper, which also did not please me. Some images printed too harsh and some had strange color, especially the greens. Both the Co Mo Sketch and the Accent Opaque gave me the best results overall. I tried to adjust color management without making much difference.

Book #69: Finished

This is a compilation of Charna’s and my photos from our trip to New Mexico including short paragraphs we wrote and information found online. IMG_2704 (1)The cover is a print called “Santa Fe Typical” by McCarthy. Binding is the Secret Belgian Binding. I spent quite a long time thinking about how to construct this book. My original thought was since the print is symmetrical I would wrap it around the spine and both covers. However this would have made the book smaller than I needed to present the photos. Also, I wanted to use the 8″ x 10″ unbuffered bond but that would require a single sheet binding. Finally I used an 8.5″ x 14″ matte presentation paper, folding the 14″ width at the 10″ mark to create a finished book 8.5″ x 10″.

IMG_2703Here is the book in progress showing inside the binding. I used the folded over sheet for both text and smaller photos.




First Books

img_2577I didn’t really think about them as books, certainly not artist books. They were just compilations of photographs. The first book, which no longer exists, was created in 1963 or 1964. We took a trip to the East Coast going from Gettysburg and Williamsburg to Cape Cod. This book contained photographs of Victorian houses on Cape Cod. I didn’t know anything about making books or using archival materials. A few years ago I found that the book had aged badly, filled with brittle and yellowed pages. I think I removed the pictures but don’t remember where I put them.

In 1969 we took a trip to Europe and Israel. I was a student at the Art Institute of Chicago and had already taken several years of photography classes. So the books are intact, although not in very good condition. They are too thick for the spiral binding, which threatens to come undone. The photos are beautifully printed and mounted; I was an expert darkroom technician. However, I never added any details about location, people, dates. I was only interested in the images. I’m sorry now. I’d like to know where I took some of the pictures and who some of the people are; I no longer remember. But the truth is most of my books are still primarily focused on the image.

Art and an Osher class

I am from a crowded place where siren songs
blast holes in the steady drone of traffic.
I see tall buildings and blue water and
smell bread and flowers as I walk
and sometimes unpleasant perfume
on fashionable women who walk past me.
I would like to taste the lilacs and touch
the passing dogs and cats
But never come close to the lovely ladies.
I am rather pleased with this first attempt at poetry. It was inspired by a wonderful Osher class I took last month at Carnegie Mellon. It was called “Artists as Activists Choose Pittsburgh” and facilitated by Leslie Golomb, who presented ideas about activist art and in three subsequent weeks brought in other artists who created activist work. In the final class Amanda Gross, a fiber artist, asked us to tell her something about ourselves using the following:
I am from… sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch

This is only a small part of what I enjoyed in the class. To explain, I have to make a small digression. Some weeks ago I went to the Carnegie Museum of Art to a space they called “The Sandbox” filled with “photo books” that are actually for sale. I looked at all of the books and understood very little of what I was seeing. The curator/salesperson kept asking me if I had questions. I think slowly of late, and couldn’t even begin to frame my questions. The books contained photos that may or may not have been taken by their author/editor/curator and meant nothing to me. She showed me a book she had compiled, telling me the photos were “vernacular.” That meant they were taken from a collection, made by someone else, over a period of 25 years. She got permission from the owner to put them in “her book,” which was bound professionally. I told her I made books and she gave me a look that said ‘aren’t you a sweet, little old lady.’ So, I am an old lady, not necessarily sweet, and I was confused. All of this was absolutely meaningless to me.

Back to the class: four weeks of food for thought about meaningful art, often beautiful, certainly significant. My artist friends are not here in Pittsburgh and I don’t often have a chance to participate in this kind of stimulating conversation. In the first class, Leslie, who is a print maker, talked about artists as acivists and also about her own work, which has dealt with feminism and slavery amongst other themes and ideas.

In the second class, Ben Sota, the founder of the Zany Umbrella Circus, talked about his passion for circus and how his presentations in other countries have generated thoughts about freedom in his audience.

Bec Young, a printmaker and fiber artist, talked to us in the third class. In addition to doing volunteer work in her community her prints deal with activist themes. Quoting from her artist statement: “…seek to give voice to stories that remain unheard with work that is beautiful and powerful.”

Amanda Gross, who inspired my poetry, showed us her beautiful work and talked to us about her huge community organizing project called knit the bridge, which brought people together from all over Pittsburgh. This last class tied together all of the ideas about making meaningful, beautiful art and banished the despair I felt in the Sandbox.


It’s snowing. What I really want to do is hibernate in my bed, in a cave made of quilts and blankets, and remain there until the outdoor temperature is near fifty degrees and the sun is shining. I’ve been back here for one week and I’ve got cabin fever already.
So, here are the pictures from Israel; maybe they’ll make me feel better.


Yona and me, on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean, just after sunset. The picture was taken by Haim Lev, Yona’s friend, who comes to this spot every evening, to photograph the sunset.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Ceaserea, now a national park. When I was there in 1966 some of this was there, but much has been excavated since. You could just walk along the beach and pick up pottery shards or bits of stone.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Tel Aviv: There was only one tall building the last time I was in Israel. Amazing how much has changed in thirty years. Highways, now much better than ours, were all two-lane and people who passed on curves obviously had a strong belief in God.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Jerusalem. I spent most of the four days visiting friends so I didn’t see much of the city. I know that much has changed in the 30 years since I was there before.

Emek Hefer, the most fertile valley in Israel.

Emek Hefer, the most fertile valley in Israel.

Sunset from the bus returning from Haifa

Sunset from the bus returning from Haifa


The party’s over


Tomorrow we go back to our real lives. No more walks along the beach; no more discussions about our art work; no more meals waiting for us and all of the wonderful camaraderie. My week in Door County is always one of the best of the year.

Today was beautiful after two days of rain, but I only got a couple of short walks along the beach. Wet sand penetrated my shoes so I took a few pictures of the geese and went back. I love walking along the beach hunting the treasure of dead fish and small pieces of driftwood. Years ago, playing on the beach at Lake Michigan was an entirely different experience, with clean sand and warm bodies on blankets soaking up the sun. Here, about 250 miles to the north and 65 years later on Lake Michigan, zebra mussel shells, seaweed, dead fish, driftwood and a couple of helium balloons cover the beach.

I haven’t done much artwork, but I can’t wait to get home and work on the dead fish.

Beach walking

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Time does not behave as usual here; it expands to encompass many events then passes slowly. We arrived with clear skies and sunshine on Monday afternoon and again on Tuesday. Yesterday and today we have had rain, a gray lake and lots of waves. I love to walk along the beach occasionally picking up pieces of driftwood and photographing masses of detritus left by the waves. Years ago, while I was going to art school, I photographed alewives along a beach in Indiana. The fish were larger than what I photographed this week, alewives in Wisconsin. Perhaps I’ll make a book of dead fish.

The rain stopped long enough yesterday for us to visit a wonderful garden and go to a play in the evening, Our theme this year has been serendipity, or as Jan says, “serene deputy” and the rain didn’t begin again until we got into our cars to return home.

The garden is on the lake

The garden is on the lake

We actually get work done in between eating and walking and visiting. I am still working on French knots for my book cover. Jan and Sandy are both working on books. Anna, a newcomer to our group, has been the most prolific, with wonderful cards and a quilt top. When the rain stops I’ll go back to the beach for more pictures of dead fish.