We've been attending sales lately..
in our free time..
Estate sales and
a week ago we went to an
where I mostly drooled over gorgeous old volumes..
of pristine leather bound books..
and exorbitantly priced antique botanicals ...
and art books were simply outrageously priced...
but so lovely to peruse..
still it was uplifting to be in a room that
was filled with old paper..
and people ...
who adore old books,
yellowed paper ..
and covet them...
like I do...
I was hoping to score another mini antique photo album..
but I saw precious few
and the ones I saw were very expensive...
but I did mange to find several books with
marbled covers and scarred leather ..
and I have plans for all of them of course..
one seller asked..
"It is in really bad shape, you must be a collector?"
"Yes", I answered ..
an unusual collector.. I thought..
I have learned to be secretive of my true intentions..
Of complete destruction..
tearing and ripping and shredding..
glueing and reassembling...
oh, the perfect chaos of it all...
They do not comprehend or approve of my mission..
my desire to elevate the mundane scribbled page..
or my passion for mixing the foxed page..
and the marbled cover..
creating art from something that will soon
crumbling as it goes, leaving tiny trails of book crumbs in it's wake...
but you... gentle reader,
understand the desire, the passion
I am eternally grateful..