i am an unrequited astronomer, pretend patient, gentle adventurer, pedal enthusiast, recovering calligrapher, occasional thespian and unfinished poet living in portland, oregon. contacting me via email is usually a good idea.
9:30 PM:
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hey! i know where i'm taking michael when he visits again: balboa park! the art museum! prado!
i went to the young book arts exhibit tonight; one of terrilynn's students had a (gorgeous!) book entered. there were some really exceptional books from all ages, including a haiku (rainbow fish with hopes/as strong as fiery sunlight/joy stronger than dreams) and a block-print "kindercolor" book. but my inexplicable favorite was a little tunnel book by a third grader called "dream horse," which was tiny and precious. i also liked another more elaborate eye tunnel book, also with a poem. another poet made a narrow red, black & white book called "life told me i am a martyr." one group of students had made altoids tins into containers to illustrate vivaldi's "four seasons" (w/ both pages sewn into the hinges & dimensional art inside). "pele" was a gorgeous book even though there was no text. "love" was dimensional and tangled; the text was almost unreadable.
then there was a small exhibit which contained such desire-inducing items like illuminated pages from ancient arabic dictionaries; a box of fortune cookies w/ fortunes inspired by a chinese-american father/daughter relationship; several types of dreamlogs; a papal bull; the london polyglot bible; and the eliot indian bible. there was also a little "gumball" machine containing tiny handmade books in little bubbles -- stick a token in, turn the handle, and a little book rolls out! :)
one of the things i find really depressing about book exhibits is that they're almost always behind glass, so you don't get to appreciate them as books. :( apparently, ucsd has a small books collection one can handle with white gloves. i gotta go find out how.