Making Books

Today I am making teeny tiny books--2 inches tall and 1 1/2 inches wide, about the size of matchboxes.  With all the mess in my living room, you'd think I'd been making masterpieces, but truth is you'd be hard pressed to find them unless I pointed them out. 

A couple of years ago, I dropped out of the online Handmade Boob Club because the coptic stitch stymied me, and still does. But then I discovered non-stitch or minimal-stitch books, and I returned. 

Someone asked me, "Are you going to give them for gifts, sell them, or what?"

While I have no intention of selling them, I'd be happy to share them once I get my techniques perfected.  Mostly it's "or what...." meaning I'm doing them for one reason only: pleasure. I find it intriguing to play with different types of paper, including gel printed pages I've made myself over the years without any idea what I'd do with them.

I've decoupaged one and half pieces of furniture with circles cut from gel prints.  And I made a scroll book early on, still one of my favorites.  Now I'm working on new structures including folded books with pockets, accordion (or concertina) books, teeny tiny books with 8 pages, etc. 

The lesson for December was making a garland of tiny books to hang on the mantel.  Some members made Christmas tree ornaments.  One, a librarian, gave tiny books to the entire staff at her school.  I'm just making them for the fun of working in miniature, often discovering that the tiny book is a prototype that can be used as a pattern for making larger ones. 

Truthfully, I have no practical need of another blank book.  I already have a couple of handmade books I've bought on trips, "too pretty to use." So while they are not utilitarian, at least not yet, they are little teachers of technique. 

 Book makers in the group often make their own papers; I won't be doing that.  But the format of monthly projects (all saved in an archive to dip into at any time) focuses on technical skills.  It's fascinating to see what different people do with the basic structures. 

Kitty

Kitty is the owner, cook, and server of one of my favorite restaurants.  The only other worker there is a young man, perhaps her brother. 

She's the one who greets Luci with a big smile and follows up with a bowl of cooked chicken.  Luci loves Kitty and jumps on her legs and vocalizes her joy in seeing her.

Last night, Kitty showed me a large bump on her hand, and we talked about the possibility of carpel tunnel.  

No wonder.  She gets to the donut shop at 3 a.m to make donuts, cuts and fries and frosts them.  Then she lifts and moves heavy trays and delivers batches to a downtown location.

At 8. she goes home for an hour's nap, then to the restaurant to cook and serve until 3 in the afternoon.  Between 3 and 5. she gets another short nap before re-opening for dinner.

Probably in her forties, Kitty is young enough to have big dreams.  Somehow between all the hours of work, she manages to take an ESL class at SAC, hoping to perfect her English.  Her goal--to have her bakery someday--requires English proficiency to pass the tests necessary to start a business. 

The president-elect's words about immigrants are arrogant and cruel.  Far from being a "drain" on "our country," Kitty represents millions of people behind the scenes who contribute so much to the U.S. Many are struggling with the language and silent on the world stage. Most of them are working more hours than those born here can even imagine. 

When they are our age, without medical help, how will Kitty deal with carpel tunnel syndrome?  How will Sergio deal with his constantly aching back?  

"Do you have to work two jobs?" my dinner companion asked her.

She's helping her family in Thailand, she's paying rent, she's keeping a business afloat.  She wants to make beautiful wedding cakes and birthday cakes for those who can afford them--a worthy dream.  Yes, she has to work two jobs.  All those coming here for safety and success have to work two jobs, often more, just to survive.  

Working Around Obstacles

My days are shorter than they used to be  Instead of long productive and leisurely hours, I now work within chunks of time between foot flares.  After the first chunk, I take meds for pain, then rest til they take effect.  Then there's another chunk and on and on like that.

Most of us have something to work around--pain, illness, care taking, a job, a marriage.  Obstacles are obstacles.  It's the stuff of literature.  It's whatever the answer is to the question, "What's stopping you?"

What I'm learning in my oldish age is to ask different questions.  Like : How can I get the most out of my short days?  

One answer is to reserve the first chunk of the day for what lights up the creative part of me, the same thing that has animated my whole life--making something, being creative and curious. It's an extended version of what Julia Cameron advocated: "the artist date." A day set aside to poke around in thrift shops or art venues or whatever you do best solo. 

Sometimes the question itself is what drives me.  I'm determined not to stop.

It seems to be a matter of appropriating time differently.  Decide what can best be accomplished in the easy hours, throw myself into whatever requires sustained attention and hold off answering the phone or shopping for groceries.  Say "no" to anything I don't really want or need to do, at least until the time is right to say "yes." 

2024, while filled with lots of good things, was also the year of discovering expensive and extensive dental needs, brought on by taking Gabapentin for pain.  2024 was the year of a terrible election result and all that could entail for the next four years.  

Some things we can do nothing about, period.

In the meanwhile, in my staccato time, I'm delving deep into book making, finding pleasure in cutting and assembling papers to create fun structures.  

Yesterday I made a tiny book (out of a soap box) about Luci.  Earlier I made several books of poems on paper folded into origami shapes.  I'm working today on an accordion book, collaging every page.

Whatever we have to step over or around, I believe that having a personal passion, creative or otherwise, is what keeps us as fully alive as we can be, for as long as we can.