I experimented a lot in college (I'm talking about art classes, jeez) but not much of it is well-documented. I didn't have a proper digital camera for the first year or so, and have lost some files due to hard drive meltdowns over the years. There are projects that I remember in detail, yet have no photographic proof of, like the installation I did inside the on-campus parking garage elevator. Others I forget about until I re-discover them, like drawings or photos I dismissed as failures at the time but really love later on.
Still others have gone missing and all I have left is these painfully low-res photos. That's the case with this book:
It was actually a project for an Alternative Drawing class, if I remember correctly. I never took a bookmaking class; you can't tell from the photos but this whole thing was just painstakingly glued together. I have no idea where the finished book is, nor the original photo files. The former possibly left in an ex's attic; the latter probably burned onto a CD which was subsequently lost. All I have are the files from a former website portfolio. And the desire to do something like this again someday.
As my contribution to the Trillium Residency, I will be making some sort of book to document my process from photography to painting, with regard to the images I shot while staying in the cabin there. I had assumed I'd make a digital print-on-demand file, but a friend mentioned the idea of making an actual artist book. That, in turn, made me remember this project, the only other book I've made.
I've been thinking a lot about the concept of home as well, especially in relation to the work I've been doing about the body. Since the fire next door, I've been what I'll call "emotionally homeless." I have a place to sleep, I am physically safe and secure. But I'm very much aware of the transitory nature of my living situation, and the logistical limbo regarding my actual home and studio. (We're still waiting for repairs to start. Nothing in New York insurance, construction, or real estate happens fast.)
The concept of home has cropped up in my work. In the project above, it acts as a sort of stage. In a few small illustrations I made shortly after moving to New York, it's more of a character than a setting.
I would not be the least bit surprised if it appears again in a big way in future work.