The book has to be read in multiple ways:
the first section is like a flip book- each image is layered on top of the other mirroring the peeling of the layers of selves we accumulate. It then opens up horizontally, falls vertically down, before horizontally hinging into uncertain space. You sort of have to treat it very carefully, 'cause it's stapled together in a rather fragile manner.
All word portions were stolen from the Dark Cloistered Alleys of my notepad. I stash them away, forget I ever wrote them, and only uncover them for such recycling purposes such as bookmaking. I haven't actually re-read them, so they're pretty raw, and definitely unedited.
the finger pointing upwards signals an impossibility of knowledge/knowing; what the book attempts is a reaching towards truth; an eternal grasping towards that is eternally incomplete.
Also, the "Thus Spoke", refers t "Thus Spoke (Zarasthrustra)", Nietzsche's rather questionable attempt at representing the non-representable Dionysian realm.
"Perhaps- womb, claustrophobic core. Limbs
lumsy and clenching earth, a clutter o
bones crisp against the earth's belly-
birth, in(side)- un-being, snug-in--
in-between breaths, a tiny spark flickering. quot;
Later: Actually, there's a funny story behind that. Apparently I did add it, but I hid it behind the "descent" text (within the core of the book) , then consequently lost it forgetting that this particular book didn't possess the pockets I thought I had endowed it with. So it's subsequently lost in the universe ether. Rather Nietzschean and apt in that fragmentary way, but I do feel this profound sense of dislocation as a result...
Re-configuration > flips open horizontally to "Shedding of Skins" and then down vertically down to "Descent"
(this was scanned before the cliff gates piece was stapled on; basically, the cliff gates door-flap covers the "Descent" text)
"Girl Without Hands" > "The Mountains are my bones"
Concerning the deconstruction of identity and the reduction of the human form to the skeletal.
But oh! It flips horizontally again (you have to unfold it like an origami-thing) ----->
Distorted hands reach out for into abstract space, and the text abruptly hinges into empty space. sort of a denial of closure- form gets reduced to its 'bare bones', but it's up to the individual to construct things from the ground up.
Yup, that is all.
It was rather fun! And it took much less time than the labyrinth book.
I swear I'm getting better at this bookmaking business. I want to make moreeeee
(or: In which I pretend I Knew What I was Doing All Along)
err edit *forever incomplete, not never incomplete
(I think it's becoming quite obvious I did the write-up half-heartedly and in a hurry)
Oh, and for those curious, this was for my Nietzsche/Wagner class. (Yes, it is indeed an epic class: what a combination of forces!)