Berry Moon, Bound

by Erzebet YellowBoy, based on Berry Moon by Camilla Bruce

A limited edition of 1 copy bound for the Interstitial Arts Foundation, the book measures approximately 5 inches high by 4 inches wide. Handmade Lokta paper, glass beads, faux berries, cotton thread and silver foil make up the cover along with a spine of black cloth. Lokta paper throughout, text printed on white, laid paper.

This piece will be auctioned off to benefit the Interstitial Arts Foundation at iafauctions.com

Tags: interfictions2auction, interfictions2, interstitialartsfoundation, interstitial, handmadebook, berrymoon, camillabruce
Uploaded: October 31, 2009
View this photo on Flickr

0 comments

No comments for this photo. Add a comment >

The Interfictions 2 Auction

slideshow
View this photo on Flickr

    IAFAuctions.com is part of the fundraising arm of the Interstitial Arts Foundation, a not–for–profit organization dedicated to the study, support, and promotion of interstitial art.

    IAF Photostream
    Bee with Cleaver All Valentines are One Valentine The Child Empress of Mars Everybody Knows Everybody Knows Boxcar Diner by Sarah Evans Remembrances Remembrances Heidi and Party on the Moon
    View more photos >
    A Taste of Interfictions 2
    • “After the children are asleep, she goes to her room and sees the dress of gold laid out on her bed, unzipped and waiting for her. The lining is embroidered with bees (from the mother's name, the dress was made for her).

      She looks out the window, as if she can signal someone, but it's night out, and the window might as well be painted over black.

      She puts on the dress and goes to his room.

      "Very good," he says, and she feels like her mouth has been stuffed with cotton and no light will ever reach her.

      When he zips the dress closed she can feel the bees spring to life inside the dress, a thousand tiny stings.”
      From: To Set Before the King by Genevieve Valentine
    • “She paid admission. Then they walked the direction all visitors had to go, through the museum and toward doors leading out to the historic village. With its coke machine just inside the entrance, the museum seemed a harmless, well-regulated place, comforting and normal. Yet the discontent he had noticed when his feet hit the gravelly parking lot, out by the split-rail fence, still held on and was with him yet as they walked out the back door.

      He could control it even so: a trifling weight he would shrug off, somewhere, if only he could find the right place.”
      From: Stonefield by Mark Rich
    • “I have never noticed until now the tender cut of your jaw, how the skin scoops inwards towards the throat, a reservoir for rain, or honey, or milk. I have never noticed the way your neck quivers next to the jugular. I have never noticed the way your sleep-sigh takes on a musical pattern, moving along in harmonic thirds, as though somewhere, in some dream, people are singing in chords.”
      From: Four Very True Tales by Kelly Barnhill
    • “Trace down the length of your nylon seam
      The breeze from the window fan does nothing to cool the room but ripples Martine's skirt as she adjusts her hose. She is talking to someone on the phone. She says it's her sister. Dave sits on the edge of the bed, smoking, paralyzed by his insurmountable debt and the vision of her cherry-red toenails.”
      From: Nylon Seam by F. Brett Cox

    Click here for another excerpt

Powered by the Flickr Photo Album plugin for WordPress.