I had a plan when I went down to my basement studio this morning when it was still dark outside at 9am. I knew the binding I wanted to use, I knew the shape and size and color of leather. I spent an or so hour folding down paper (one of my favorite parts of the process) and took out a big piece of un-dyed cowhide. I worked. I cut and folded and sewed for three or four hours and when the book was finished, it was nothing like what I had planned in my head. I had unconsciously changed everything. The amount of pages, the binding, the orientation, the hardware. When I looked at the clock after I put the book in a press (ha! by press I mean a stack of really heavy books), I had no idea so much time had passed. Because the process is so clear to me and each step follows it's predecessor so beautifully I never feel like it takes me as long as it sometimes does.
I went upstairs for some soup and a smoke. While my tomato soup was heating up I was planning out what the next book would look like. I had even laid out the leather I wanted to use before I left my studio. But once again, after a few hours passed I looked at a second finished book that looked nothing like what I had planned.
This may not be surprising to most artists, but my work needs to be planned. There is math involved. The functionality of every book I make is imperative. The aesthetics and style come second. So today, to go in with a plan and come with something completely different is just... surprising. I feel like I don't experience very much surprise as an artist but I'm pretty pleased with what magically happened today.
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