Laced Journal

Here's the next bookbinding project, which was to bind my journal and correspondence from 1992, a tumultuous year when my grandmother died, ending an era that had defined much of our lives as a family. That year I was also trying to face the fact that I would have to have some major surgery, which terrified me. But in spite of these difficulties, I was beginning to sense the light from the opening of new spiritual and artistic doors. As I began to think about the cover for the journal, having re-read some of what was inside, I decided to try to do a painting that would express some of the emotion of that particular time in my life. This is the gestural underpainting with which I began, and the first wavy stamps in whitish-grey acrylic.

And this is a detail of what it looked like when it was finished. When the painting was nearly done, I felt it needed some marks made with a pen  -- some scribbled marks, hatchings, or even letters. As I thought more about the latter idea, I decided to write an inscription on the book, a message about -- and for -- my grandmother. But I didn't want it to be overtly obvious, or even legible. I mixed a thin burnt-umber in acrylics, and used a calligraphy pen nib to write my message, loosely following the curl of the vortex from the edges into its center. Then I went back and scrubbed over the drying paint with a cloth to soften and blur the edges, and when it was completely dry I worked on the surface in a few places with sandpaper to further distress the surface.

The spiral motif went onto the cover of the journal, and the straighter, complementary section became the back. I wanted to use linen for the spine to go with two other journals I made a long time ago, but linen is always dicey: too little glue, and the fabric won't stick to the boards, too much glue and it comes through the fabric and shows. All seemed to have gone well until I removed the front of the book from the book press: the pressure of the press had squeezed some extra glue through and left a stain on the bottom part of the spine. That was pretty discouraging, but finally I decided to put a label on the spine to cover up the problem, and went ahead.

The 8 1/2 x 11" inside pages of the journal had been punched for a plastic binding years ago, and I pondered how to structure the binding itself. I decided to try using laces that would incorporate the existing holes, rather than a sewn Japanese-style binding which would have to avoid them. It took some trial-and-error punching through mock spines, with different types of chisels, before I was able to get slits that would work.

 

Now, what to use for the lacing? I started out thinking I'd do it in linen tape (above) or in brown grosgrain ribbon, but then I remembered an old watered silk ribbon that had been in my grandmother's "trimming" drawer that I've been carting around for probably forty years. The color was perfect, but it was too wide, and had some faded spots. I decided to ignore the imperfections, because I really wanted to use it. So I cut the ribbon in half lengthwise, turned the edges in and sewed them carefully to form a 1/4" wide band, and pressed it flat. It no longer looked like watered silk, but that was OK. Then I did a trial run lacing the covers in Xs across the spine, which is how I'd imagined doing it. The lacing looked great but it didn't hold the book flat and tight - the holes were too close to the edge. I realized I'd have to lace it vertically, more like a sewn binding. That worked but I had a terrible time getting the ribbon through the holes twice; I used a tapestry needle and pulled it through with pliers, breaking one needle in the process. I had to go to the store today and buy more.

Then, at the very end,  I stabbed myself (I was trying a large but non-blunt needle - bad idea) and a big drop of blood fell right on the edge of the linen spine. I said a lot of bad words and rushed to the sink to get a wet cloth and some salt; fortunately I was able to get the stain out, and the blood didn't get onto the paper. But I was very glad when the binding was finished - this had been a long, difficult one!

  

In spite of all the near-disasters, I'm pretty happy with the result, and very glad I was able to use that ribbon, after all these years!

Comments

[Vivian]

I love many things about this but especially that you are capturing in this new medium the craft and artistry and love of materials of all sorts that are part of the tradition of the book and so you carry it forward ... also the paradox of a private book of such stunning beauty appearing in this public place...

[Kim]

Absolutely beautiful.

[Beth]

Thanks, Vivian. I don't really know what I'm doing with this, or why, or where it's headed, so I'm just doing it and seeing where it takes me. A private journal is a good place for experimentation, and I have a whole bunch more that would like to be bound. However, I'm not sure that's "it." I may be gearing up to do some paintings again - we'll see. But the book arts are very close to my heart and always have been. Thanks for the encouragement.

Thanks so much, Kim!

[Marja-Leena]

Stunning work, Beth! Thanks for showing the process, it's tempting me to try it out. So happy to hear you are working with your hands and exploring possibilities, that is exciting.

[Lorianne]

As terrible as this sounds, I had to chuckle when you mentioned the drop of blood: it somehow seems appropriate that you've given some actual blood to a project that already contains your sweat and tears. I love how personalized this entire project is, from the contents to the cover.

[Beth]

Hi Lorianne -- yeah, I had to laugh too (after swearing). Glad you liked the project. I like the idea of projects having integrity throughout, but don`t want them to be `precious`or, for that matter, purely decorative. These are fine lines, I`m discovering.

[ej]

Lovely work. I too am hampered by even the thought of "purely decorative". Beauty yes, decoration - no. But like you say its a fine line and a life w/o beauty is poor indeed.

[leslee]

I guess the blood drop is for the surgery part of that journal - along with the ribbon for your grandmother. Did you happen to read Geraldine Brooks' People of the Book? As a book maker, you'd appreciate it.

[Beth]

Good point, Leslee! (and - ouch - I really didn't intend that pun.) No, I haven't read that book and I'll look for it!

[Pica]

Blood on books: it happens. It happens a lot. Swearing ensues. Love your fix for the glue-through, BTW.

[Peter]

Serendipity: Immediately after catching up at Cassandrapages, I went to the Blog of Henry David Thoreau and moments later found the following:

...Thoreau's Journal: 8-Feb-1841

My Journal is that of me which else would spill over and run to waste, gleanings from the field which in action I reap. I must not live for it, but in it for the gods. They are my correspondent, to whom daily I send off this sheet postpaid. I am clerk in their counting-room, and at evening transfer the account from my day-book to ledger. It is as a leaf which hangs over my head in the path. I bend the twig and write my prayers on it; then letting it go, the bough springs up and shows the scrawl to heaven. As if it were not kept shut in my desk, but were as public a leaf as any in nature. It is papyrus by the riverside; it is vellum in the pastures; it is parchment on the hills. I find it everywhere as free as the leaves which troop along the lanes in autumn. The crow, the goose, the eagle carry my quill, and the wind blows the leaves as far as I go. Or, if my imagination does not soar, but gropes in slime and mud, then I write with a reed.

It seemed too apt not to share.