There are about 20 participants and each participant was asked to create a page for a book based on the book's theme. There are four books that will be bound and sent to a gallery for display and purchase. The theme of each book is a poem written by one of the members of BEST. Each group has 5 or 6 people in it and each person made a page for every member of the group as well as an extra for the gallery piece.
I'll be showing the pages of the books throughout the next month so you can see all the amazing creativeness that BEST members put out!
Today I'll spotlight 3 pages that were based on this poem:
Husbandry
by Jennifer Borges Foster
For you she builds a house of spices and sleigh beds,
of anise and armrests, of typewriters happily clacking
their teeth at the blowsy dawn. She builds boxes and ladders,
kneelers and coffins, stocks hardtack and swatches of cloth.
There is a history of horses and husbandry here,
a history of holiness and excess, of morning and mourning,
of days that never wake. For you she builds a body, a list
from hip to waist, a weight in breasts best set to anchor
the architecture of your mouth. On leaving she
lives in a biscuit, peeking through the gnawed-out windows
at the robins who dumbly clutter her roof.
She is vaulted and volleyed by the long-armed god
of her father; holed up and hoping you’ll come rob
the stockpile she’s been hoarding for years. Her letters to
you are written in steam, apparent only on nights
when the windows drift open. For you she builds a house
of hallways, one easy to wander when she is gone.
of anise and armrests, of typewriters happily clacking
their teeth at the blowsy dawn. She builds boxes and ladders,
kneelers and coffins, stocks hardtack and swatches of cloth.
There is a history of horses and husbandry here,
a history of holiness and excess, of morning and mourning,
of days that never wake. For you she builds a body, a list
from hip to waist, a weight in breasts best set to anchor
the architecture of your mouth. On leaving she
lives in a biscuit, peeking through the gnawed-out windows
at the robins who dumbly clutter her roof.
She is vaulted and volleyed by the long-armed god
of her father; holed up and hoping you’ll come rob
the stockpile she’s been hoarding for years. Her letters to
you are written in steam, apparent only on nights
when the windows drift open. For you she builds a house
of hallways, one easy to wander when she is gone.
Prints by Tim Fredrick
Mixed media pages by Kristi Oliver
Mixed Media Pages by Jennifer Borges Foster
"Each signature is slightly different -scraps of fabric were sewn on to cotton paper, then I cut out a bird shape on the cover. Each bird has handwritten pages from an old (1898) botany book or fragments from an equally old map. Inside the signature there is a hand-printed erasure of my original poem Husbandry."
1 comment:
Oooh, I love seeing the erasure version of the poem... she's done her own found poem right there! It's great seeing what so many people are putting together thanks for the updates, Karleigh!
And good luck with your festival!
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