Monday, December 19, 2011
Addendum
On why 'Drowning' is such an important book for me, it was the first project that I had ever conceived and completed from beginning to end. Before that I always thought in terms of the single masterpiece image, that line of thought works for some but it caused me to miss some important things until I made the 'Drowning Discovery'. With 'Drowning' I became a storyteller. And that's what I want to be when I grow up.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Drowning, not waving Artist Book
This is where I started. This is where the path revealed itself. This one matters the most to me so I am making it available at a most reasonable rate. $26 includes shipping US, $31 international. When interested contact me directly at rabbitlange@gmail.com
A visual narrative artist book
Description
Fewer than 30% of suicides leave a note. More probably make the effort but find the results inadequate, the futile attempt at describing logically a desperate and illogical act.
Contained in this volume are 31 case studies-
1. brief case history 2. snapshot 3. photographic documentation of items from pickets, found clutched int he hands, or arranged to be the last thing the deceased would see in the world.
Of individuals who, feeling their lives had failed, ended them;
and finding that words had failed, abandoned them.
In the hopes that these objects will speak to us in lieu of the notes that were not left.
76 pages, 4/4 full colour offset press, handmade cover, comb binding.
And here are a few examples as to how this tale is told.
Everything is apparent here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Drowning-not-waving-artist-book/180694568690942
A visual narrative artist book
Description
Fewer than 30% of suicides leave a note. More probably make the effort but find the results inadequate, the futile attempt at describing logically a desperate and illogical act.
Contained in this volume are 31 case studies-
1. brief case history 2. snapshot 3. photographic documentation of items from pickets, found clutched int he hands, or arranged to be the last thing the deceased would see in the world.
Of individuals who, feeling their lives had failed, ended them;
and finding that words had failed, abandoned them.
In the hopes that these objects will speak to us in lieu of the notes that were not left.
76 pages, 4/4 full colour offset press, handmade cover, comb binding.
And here are a few examples as to how this tale is told.
Everything is apparent here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Drowning-not-waving-artist-book/180694568690942
On the Season I became The Good Witch
In a public city psych ward, no matter which one, no matter the time of year there are certain constants.
There is always a howler, always male, past the point of verbalization and can only wail. This time it was a 7 foot Korean man with the lung capacity of an operatic tenor. He was put in the quiet room and does not play a part in this story.
At least two schizes, either benevolent or malevolent schizophrenia is past the point, they are destroyed. At least one suicide attempt, usually two, late teens early twenties, could be male or female. A handful of deps, depressives watch and tend to keep silent. A few uncategorized. I do not recall the year or the season but it was cold so they were scooped up off the streets to keep from freezing. And the bipol. That would be me. I was frequently the only one. I do not know why. And as irony would have it I was generally the healthiest one on the floor after I was stabilized in the ER.
As I said I do not know the year or actual time of year. Just that it was cold so the season shall be dubbed as Winter.
This was the season I became the good witch.
One of the anomalous this time around was named Cathy. I do not know how I knew that. She seldom spoke. She was in a wheelchair, her leg straight out in an elaborate cast and she wore a bicycle helmet. All day every day she worked on a pull rug she kept in her lap. I never did make out the picture.
Psych is also a matter of routine – wake up, group meeting, breakfast, individual groups, lunch, arts and craft (plastic beads on rubber band bracelets), quiet time, dinner, evening group meeting, relaxation. TV or games. The problem with games is findng one intact. The obsessive compulsives from the stay before got to the books and tore out every third page, There must have been a pica as well who got to the Scrabble pieces. We were able to mix two games together to make enough tiles but you have no idea what pieces survived and what didn’t which adds an extra layer to the game.
Helpful hint: When playing a Pica ravaged tile set of Scrabble with a delusional- do not challenge. No matter what is posited as a word, accept it.
But I have strayed from the story at hand.
The following day, after group and before lunch, there was a tug on my gown. It was Cathy. I knelt down to face her. Her eyes seemed the size of saucers. They could not possible have been as large as I remember them but I believe they were that blue. She looked at me and said she was sorry she called me a witch. I told her she never called me a witch and she said she had, the previous day at group, she had and she was sorry.
A tear the size and shape of a turnip fell out of one impossible eye and slid down her cheek. ‘You’re not a witch’, she said. ‘Or if you are a witch you’re a good witch.’ She concentrated a moment and looked back at me. ‘You’re a Glinda’, she said. ‘That’s it, you’re a Glinda’. The nurse grabbed her wheelchair and started backing her away down the hall and she stared at me and said again, ‘You’re a Glinda’.
‘You’re a Glinda’,
‘You’re a Glinda’,
‘You’re a Glinda’,
A tear of my own fell for Cathy, though not nearly as large and not through impossible eyes.
We were packed off to bed and in the morning Cathy was gone. More than a single tear fell from my eyes that morning. They had taken her at night,you see.
If you are discharged from psych they always do it in the morning. If they take you away, which is something else entirely, they always do it at night.
She was never seen on the floor again.
They released me within a few days after and as always when I walked home from the hospital I was amazed that the world had continued to turn.
But this time was different from all the others, before and since. This time I left as The Good Witch, dubbed as such by Cathy, who like many of the deeply damaged I have come across seems to know things no one else does, and her impossible eyes.
There is always a howler, always male, past the point of verbalization and can only wail. This time it was a 7 foot Korean man with the lung capacity of an operatic tenor. He was put in the quiet room and does not play a part in this story.
At least two schizes, either benevolent or malevolent schizophrenia is past the point, they are destroyed. At least one suicide attempt, usually two, late teens early twenties, could be male or female. A handful of deps, depressives watch and tend to keep silent. A few uncategorized. I do not recall the year or the season but it was cold so they were scooped up off the streets to keep from freezing. And the bipol. That would be me. I was frequently the only one. I do not know why. And as irony would have it I was generally the healthiest one on the floor after I was stabilized in the ER.
As I said I do not know the year or actual time of year. Just that it was cold so the season shall be dubbed as Winter.
This was the season I became the good witch.
One of the anomalous this time around was named Cathy. I do not know how I knew that. She seldom spoke. She was in a wheelchair, her leg straight out in an elaborate cast and she wore a bicycle helmet. All day every day she worked on a pull rug she kept in her lap. I never did make out the picture.
Psych is also a matter of routine – wake up, group meeting, breakfast, individual groups, lunch, arts and craft (plastic beads on rubber band bracelets), quiet time, dinner, evening group meeting, relaxation. TV or games. The problem with games is findng one intact. The obsessive compulsives from the stay before got to the books and tore out every third page, There must have been a pica as well who got to the Scrabble pieces. We were able to mix two games together to make enough tiles but you have no idea what pieces survived and what didn’t which adds an extra layer to the game.
Helpful hint: When playing a Pica ravaged tile set of Scrabble with a delusional- do not challenge. No matter what is posited as a word, accept it.
But I have strayed from the story at hand.
The following day, after group and before lunch, there was a tug on my gown. It was Cathy. I knelt down to face her. Her eyes seemed the size of saucers. They could not possible have been as large as I remember them but I believe they were that blue. She looked at me and said she was sorry she called me a witch. I told her she never called me a witch and she said she had, the previous day at group, she had and she was sorry.
A tear the size and shape of a turnip fell out of one impossible eye and slid down her cheek. ‘You’re not a witch’, she said. ‘Or if you are a witch you’re a good witch.’ She concentrated a moment and looked back at me. ‘You’re a Glinda’, she said. ‘That’s it, you’re a Glinda’. The nurse grabbed her wheelchair and started backing her away down the hall and she stared at me and said again, ‘You’re a Glinda’.
‘You’re a Glinda’,
‘You’re a Glinda’,
‘You’re a Glinda’,
A tear of my own fell for Cathy, though not nearly as large and not through impossible eyes.
We were packed off to bed and in the morning Cathy was gone. More than a single tear fell from my eyes that morning. They had taken her at night,you see.
If you are discharged from psych they always do it in the morning. If they take you away, which is something else entirely, they always do it at night.
She was never seen on the floor again.
They released me within a few days after and as always when I walked home from the hospital I was amazed that the world had continued to turn.
But this time was different from all the others, before and since. This time I left as The Good Witch, dubbed as such by Cathy, who like many of the deeply damaged I have come across seems to know things no one else does, and her impossible eyes.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
The birthdays (2006-2011...and counting)
2011: Sixth year birthday - Me, myself & eye. I blew out the match. These candles were never lit.
2010: Tomorrow is my birthday and I have tired of this room.
2009: Bring the candle to the flame.
2008: Birthday girl. (Eaten by the walls).
2007: Tomorrow is my birthday and things are much the same.
These are where it began. The only time there were two. When I lost the last people in my life I threw myself a party.
Tomorrow is my birthday and all my friends are here.
'And my, how we laughed'.
2010: Tomorrow is my birthday and I have tired of this room.
2009: Bring the candle to the flame.
2008: Birthday girl. (Eaten by the walls).
2007: Tomorrow is my birthday and things are much the same.
These are where it began. The only time there were two. When I lost the last people in my life I threw myself a party.
Tomorrow is my birthday and all my friends are here.
'And my, how we laughed'.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
The most wonderful time of the year
A gothic abecedarian narrative for 2012.
My annual calendar girls are ready to be set loose.
The first time I never had to worry over sequence.
Complete preview available here:
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/lsimonutti
Just click on the cover to see inside.
:)
My annual calendar girls are ready to be set loose.
The first time I never had to worry over sequence.
Complete preview available here:
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/lsimonutti
Just click on the cover to see inside.
:)
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Help me!
Really now. I have a new idea but cannot start new book until old book is completed.
8 copies left. Just 8. Call your friends, enemies, grab random strangers on the street.
Help me set these free!
This one matters to me.
8 copies left. Just 8. Call your friends, enemies, grab random strangers on the street.
Help me set these free!
This one matters to me.
Friday, August 26, 2011
A day at the Zoo
Zoo in rain. Animals, despite being what I consider waterproof, do not frolic in the rain. They go inside just like people. Except me. Get to zoo. Buy souvenir umbrella. Do not buy map because maps should be free. In first 40 minutes discover locale of parking lots A + B. Return to store. Buy souvenir map.
In 3 1/2 hrs. I saw 2 zebra butts (they would not turn around despite my calls of 'Hey Zebra!' - I know they heard me). 2 wild horses (which look just like regular horses) and the chipmunk and squirrel habitat which would have irked me were it not for the arrow shaped sign pointing to it which said 'This way to the nut hunters.'
*It is possible I saw an elephant. It was about 100 yards away in a raging downpour and I have poor eyesight but it certainly resembled an elephant, either that or a very large rock.
No pandas in the large panda habitat. 1 panda inside white cubicle facing the wall. No face, no paws, just panda butt. After several minutes I could not discern the panda breathing-due either to the thickness of its' coat or perhaps it was dead. I walk past Panda Mart, Panda Market, Panda Store to arrive at Panda Plaza where I check out the menu of Panda Grill to see if there is Panda on the menu. No
Then I lose my wallet with my driver's license, bank card and I pod touch on the train ride home. I knew there was a reason why I seldom go out.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Dark, Darker, Darkest
The books are winding down. Only a handful left. Do not let 'Silence' languish. These need a home.
Go here. Do it now. http://lauren-rabbit.blogspot.com/2011/04/silence-is-secret-to-sanity-19-images.html
And for the most current of events:
Idle Hands
Our hapless heroine has no idea what she is going to do.
The Operating Theater
No good can come of this.
Go here. Do it now. http://lauren-rabbit.blogspot.com/2011/04/silence-is-secret-to-sanity-19-images.html
And for the most current of events:
Idle Hands
Our hapless heroine has no idea what she is going to do.
The Operating Theater
No good can come of this.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Books! Heat, books, heat...
It is too hot to shoot.
I've been folding paper and hiding from the sun for over a week.
Pretty, pretty.
http://lauren-rabbit.deviantart.com/journal/42574007/
It is over 90 in my house.
I just cannot seem to see anything at that temperature.
And from time to time I walk into the basement, which is cool, and stare at my darkroom sink, and sigh.
I cannot wait for Fall.
I've been folding paper and hiding from the sun for over a week.
Pretty, pretty.
http://lauren-rabbit.deviantart.com/journal/42574007/
It is over 90 in my house.
I just cannot seem to see anything at that temperature.
And from time to time I walk into the basement, which is cool, and stare at my darkroom sink, and sigh.
I cannot wait for Fall.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
The Devil's Alphabet
Terribly ill for over 3 1/2 weeks, I could barely move so I resurrected the Devil for barter.
The full alphabet is displayed by my gallery here: www.edelmangallery.com/simonutti/devils_alphabet/simonutt...
Book details here: www.blurb.com/user/store/laurenrabbit
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Halfway home...
The next available edition of 'No such thing as silence' is #26, meaning my plans for handbound world domination are halfway to completion. Give a book a home!
Details below.
Details below.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Parts is parts
The discipline of bookbinding is an ideal counterpoint to the restrained chaos of my shooting and printing. I find that working on both concurrently is the closest I have ever come to finding balance.
Details below.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Silence is the secret to Sanity: 19 images, 43 books, 3 voices
Such a quandary.
Introducing my first thoroughly autobiographical handmade book.
'Drowning, not waving' was an examination.
'The Devil's Alphabet' was an illustration.
'Evidence' was a fabrication.
'The black book' was an exhibition.
'No such thing as silence' is a confession.
As of October 2011 I will have been walking this planet for 43 years
and being of a sentimental nature this book will be
a limited edition of 43 copies.
It seemed appropriate to devise and unconventional binding.
Banded the book opens vertically in a conventional manner.
Remove the band and you can open the book in a manner I call Sidewinder.
There is no wrong order. In this matter there is no order at all.
The pages pivot on a solid brass binding post.
Metallic copper cover with handcolored collage
on fine Rives BFK printmaker's paper.
The introduction sets the scene and is printed on canvas.
The contents: 19 images, luster surface reproductions.
As you spin the sequence you can manipulate the story.
The Images:
To see them larger you can visit them as a set in sequence here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/laurensimonutti/sets/72157626350461007/
To live up to its' title this book comes with bells on.
They have been around for a long, long time.
The ribbons hang down.
As a child I pressed flowers in between the pages of my books.
The prints are mounted on Indian Petal Paper.
Acid free rag paper infused with dried flowers.
As to the paper on which the prints sit there are three different versions.
One book has pages infused with blue cornflower-blue is for memory.
The second: infused with Mughal Rose petals-red is for passion.
The third: infused with yellow star flowers-yellow for hope + promise.
You do not get to choose your color.
I have already assigned colors to numbers of the edition at random.
What you get will be left up to chance.
There is a fragile signature on the front cover, which may or may not
fade away over time; and a graphite signature on the endpage
which will not.
I like all my books but this one is precious to me.
It is $99 + shipping.
As always, I keep them as inexpensive as I can.
Book + Shipping in the Continental US - $111
(Priority Mail w/delivery confirmation)
Book + Shipping International: $119.00 First Class
Paypal is my payment option of choice.
I have a business verified account.
But in the Continental US I will accept a check or money order.
I took a leap of faith on this one and bought supplies in advance.
Ordered books will ship within 10 days.
If interested drop me a line at my personal email:
rabbitlange@hotmail.com
≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈
Introducing my first thoroughly autobiographical handmade book.
'Drowning, not waving' was an examination.
'The Devil's Alphabet' was an illustration.
'Evidence' was a fabrication.
'The black book' was an exhibition.
'No such thing as silence' is a confession.
As of October 2011 I will have been walking this planet for 43 years
and being of a sentimental nature this book will be
a limited edition of 43 copies.
It seemed appropriate to devise and unconventional binding.
Banded the book opens vertically in a conventional manner.
Remove the band and you can open the book in a manner I call Sidewinder.
There is no wrong order. In this matter there is no order at all.
The pages pivot on a solid brass binding post.
Metallic copper cover with handcolored collage
on fine Rives BFK printmaker's paper.
The introduction sets the scene and is printed on canvas.
The contents: 19 images, luster surface reproductions.
As you spin the sequence you can manipulate the story.
The Images:
To see them larger you can visit them as a set in sequence here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/laurensimonutti/sets/72157626350461007/
To live up to its' title this book comes with bells on.
They have been around for a long, long time.
The ribbons hang down.
As a child I pressed flowers in between the pages of my books.
The prints are mounted on Indian Petal Paper.
Acid free rag paper infused with dried flowers.
As to the paper on which the prints sit there are three different versions.
One book has pages infused with blue cornflower-blue is for memory.
The second: infused with Mughal Rose petals-red is for passion.
The third: infused with yellow star flowers-yellow for hope + promise.
You do not get to choose your color.
I have already assigned colors to numbers of the edition at random.
What you get will be left up to chance.
There is a fragile signature on the front cover, which may or may not
fade away over time; and a graphite signature on the endpage
which will not.
I like all my books but this one is precious to me.
It is $99 + shipping.
As always, I keep them as inexpensive as I can.
Book + Shipping in the Continental US - $111
(Priority Mail w/delivery confirmation)
Book + Shipping International: $119.00 First Class
Paypal is my payment option of choice.
I have a business verified account.
But in the Continental US I will accept a check or money order.
I took a leap of faith on this one and bought supplies in advance.
Ordered books will ship within 10 days.
If interested drop me a line at my personal email:
rabbitlange@hotmail.com
≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈∞≈Ω≈
Friday, April 15, 2011
Working Process
Working Process: I seldom sketch. As I am usually home if I get an idea I go upstairs and shoot it. On rare occasion when I am not near my gear I will do a quick sketch of an idea that occurs. Thing is, I can't draw.
Case in point-
Case in point-
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
AIPAD Show in NYC
AIPAD-The Association of International Photography Art Dealers Show at the Armory in NYC.
http://www.aipad.com/photoshow/new-york/
March 17 - 20, 2011
Park Avenue Armory at 67th Street
My gallery has a booth #309-Catherine Edelman Gallery, Chicago. I'll be stopping by on Saturday certainly and possibly again on Sunday so come see. Some of my newest work will be there and in addition there will be a great deal of work worth a look.
http://www.aipad.com/photoshow/new-york/
March 17 - 20, 2011
Park Avenue Armory at 67th Street
My gallery has a booth #309-Catherine Edelman Gallery, Chicago. I'll be stopping by on Saturday certainly and possibly again on Sunday so come see. Some of my newest work will be there and in addition there will be a great deal of work worth a look.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Time keeps on slipping...
Year's End 2010 - 'the first page/recapitulation'
The wall debuted in 2008, was recalculated in 2009 and in 2010 I do not know if this is memory of the beginning (the first page) or recapitulation at the end. In any case I am hopeful this is the last time the services of the wall of pages will be required.
Year's End 2009 - 'recalculate'
A full year passed and all I did was turn around.
I had to redo the math:
4 birthdays 3 2/3 years 44 months 1377 days 33,048 hours 1,982,880 minutes 118,972,800 seconds
I am near ready to stop counting.
Year's End 2008 - 'Inside'
This would be the math-
3 birthdays 2.946629213 years 31 months 1049 days (taking into account the leap year)
1,510,560 minutes 90, 633,600 seconds.
I would break it down further but it might make me appear obsessive.
The wall debuted in 2008, was recalculated in 2009 and in 2010 I do not know if this is memory of the beginning (the first page) or recapitulation at the end. In any case I am hopeful this is the last time the services of the wall of pages will be required.
Year's End 2009 - 'recalculate'
A full year passed and all I did was turn around.
I had to redo the math:
4 birthdays 3 2/3 years 44 months 1377 days 33,048 hours 1,982,880 minutes 118,972,800 seconds
I am near ready to stop counting.
Year's End 2008 - 'Inside'
This would be the math-
3 birthdays 2.946629213 years 31 months 1049 days (taking into account the leap year)
1,510,560 minutes 90, 633,600 seconds.
I would break it down further but it might make me appear obsessive.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Ring in the New
'When all else is lost, the future still remains.' - Bovee
'Ghosted by time' Year's End 2011
'Ghosted by time' Year's End 2011
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