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May 23, 2007
Out of Control
A persistent theme around the barn is my longing for a factory. When we imagined living in this space it seemed just the right size: a small bedroom for sleeping, room for both of us to have an office/creative space, a place to eat, a place to sit and watch movies, and an approximate kitchen adequate for the preparation of sandwiches. What more could one ask for?
Although the Idiots'Books project was vaguely a part of our vision, it was but an amusing side project, something we would do on Saturday afternoons to entertain ourselves between other ventures. We were so young and naive. And happy as we are that the books have been so well received, we are now sorely in need of a factory. A group of vigorous, satisfied factory workers would also be nice.
Evidence of our need for space.
Witness the living room:
Robbi refuses to make books of a size that conforms nicely to the 8.5 x 11 inch standard page size. She also likes to design with "full bleeds" (when the image goes all the way to the edge of the page), which means that I have to trim all four sides of most of the books. Books like Facial Features, Richard Nixon, and Understanding Traffic are relatively easy to make because they do not bleed. Books that bleed make messes like the one you see above.
Witness the recycling bin:
The recycling guy comes but once a week. When in the throes of serious bookmaking (as we are at present), we fill this large-ish can four times over in a week's span. The can is currently full. Which is why the strips of trimmed paper remain on the living room floor instead of in a more appropriate place.
Behold the dining room table:
Needless to say, we don't have many "sit-down" meals these days. The family dynamic is starting to suffer as a result.
Have a look at the pile of paper.
As I've said before, we are the reason that Staples shareholders are so jolly these days. We have risen rapidly through the ranks of their Frequent Buyer Program. From bronze to silver to gold and now to platinum. They are currently searching for an even more precious metal with which we may be honored.
I must leave you now. The time has come to take out my hammer and bang staples (real staples in the binding of books, not our paper junkie Staples). It is a necessary evil (banging, not Staples).
Posted by bogenamp at May 23, 2007 12:52 PM