I wanted to make a book that I can keep as a physical reminder of what I had that was lost, mainly of my childhood. The house I grew up in in Taiwan had distinctive heavy wooden doors, I remember as a kid, I hated opening those doors to go home because they were just too heavy for a kid. However, those were the doors that opened up to a family, a place to rest and sheltered us in our house. We also have these traditions in Taiwan and China where we burn paper money or paper houses for the deceased so they can carry those things with them into their afterlife, while I do not necessarily think this piece is my offering for the dead but more so an offering for what I have lost and like I said, a physical reminder of what was once there.
There are images printed on top of the paper in white ink further gives the feeling of what was once there and it’s all fading. It is really difficult to photograph the white on white but in some areas you can see more than the others.
That’s the book in the sleeve.
Coming out of the sleeve.
You can kind of see the images on there, just barely.
More close up, you can kind of see the texts here. This is my colophon page with title, technical specs and a white pencil mark of the edition number. There’s also edition number and my signature on the back of the sleeve, also in white.
Each panel has Japanese paper glued on the back that alludes to the traditional Asian doors but not quite it.
Title: Home 10/22
Date created: April 2013
Technical specs: White lithographic ink on fabriano rosapina with Japanese paper (gampi paper)
Dimensions: 6cm x 15cm x 1cm
Edition of 10.
Availability: Sold out