I wanted the burlesque, loud, vibrancy of lettering, the jostling for attention of the billboard and the way that words insinuate themselves. I wanted the sensuality of the spoken word and to imagine that slipped inside a book of regular paragraphs and blocks of narrative and information, nestled between the sheets of paper, at ease on the bed of other words.
I am a book artist and painter. My most recent books have been tunnel books, mini stages for the action to take place. Intimate words and images enfolded within windows, a held view. At first the tunnel books were about vanishing points, about the journey involved in saying goodbye, looking back at a point that stretches from here to there. But increasingly I became interested in how you hold your eye to the books, how you peep and gaze between the pages. Suddenly there were writhing mermaids, tattoos, a wreath of bleeding hearts and the steady erotic returned gaze of an octopus.