a little book

Here's a little book project I was working on last night. I used to make these all the time and hopefully this is a sign of more to come. They really are one of the most perfect modes of expression to me, with the weaving together of writing, painting and drawing, plus craft of course. The title of this one is Lone Ranger.

Is there anything more simultaneously frightening and seductive than unmasking the villains and heroes that live inside us? Parasites in the dark unmapped interiors of our hearts and minds, they breathe the dust of old memories, feast on the tender meat of dreams you can't recall in the morning.


They float and fly, an elusive buzz at the far edge of awareness, whispering praise and accusations in my ear. I listen closely, trying to learn each of their life stories by heart--where and when were you you born? What was your childhood like? How did you come to be who you are? Why do you wear a mask? Are you my friend or an enemy?


I will work so hard to know everything about them so that maybe I will know one thing about myself, and an inkling of something about you. And then when I'm ninety I will realize that I've lived my life backwards, that our insides are like mirrors--showing us only golems made of reflected light--and if only I had looked outside of myself, facing you squarely and open, I might have seen something wonderful.