
Cover design for the original version of Tiercel. (Click on the images to embiggen). It uses a bit of patterning from a Saxon artefact alongside textures and patterns built up in drawings and on the computer. The image was printed out large, so that I could use it as a doubled-over wrap, to create a softback cover.
I'm also including the colophon below, which gives my source for the book.
Ever since I worked on this book, I've been aware of the power of character to help us to inhabit a topic differently. While I haven't always explicitly used narrative characters in my artists' books, even those that simply posit a different point of view end up inhabiting 'another self' - even if at its most basic that self is the 'drawing self' as opposed to the 'printmaking self'. Though I have always found that books gave me a chance to assemble events and outlooks more 'in the round' that expressing myself through single images. I think it is the sense of cntext books can provide; sometimes this ends up, as here, being worked out into a narrative situation, but elsewhere it seems that there is an opportunity simply to present, as ironic or as pastiche or as investigation, or as satire or as reliquary. All these notions encapsulate a point of view, and books make this process, for me at any rate, a very easy and attractive proposition.
If you are impatient to see the rest of Tiercel, you can view it straightaway, here.


In this, the final page, I reach out towards the air and grasp it.
Am I reaching for the voice, for the implied contact of the communication? Am I touching, holding the messenger and connecting with its message? Or am I crushing it? Is the annihilation of the message/lacewing the completion of its journey?
This plays out some of the same tensions we saw in the transmission of the message 'swallowed by birds', or the notion of the message/lacewing annihilated by (head)light (which might itself be the form the message takes).
But its the end of the book, and you'll henceforth have to find your own bugs to crush.
I will return shortly with a serialised version of Tiercel, my book about a hunting falcon who watches a battle between danes and Anglo Saxons. I wrote a poetic text that is based on a fragment from a well know Anglo-Saxon piece 'The Battle of Maldon', but I retell it from the bird's point of view.
Thanks for reading along, and don't forget that if you are interested in having a nice, high-resolution copy of Radio for yourself, you can get one (among several others) at my Blurb pages.
Source: adminicle | 30 Aug 2011 | 9:42 am

I really did hear a show about lacewings which crystallised a lot of other material for me and helped me begin this book. I have no idea whether any of the 'journeying' significance I've ascribed to them has any basis in fact, but it was convenient to look at them that way. I think that their winged stage is basically a breeding vector though, so there's that.
They make a comeback here, identified with the wandering line of data that comes in and touches my radio, inspiring this book and, perhaps, completing their journey.
Source: adminicle | 29 Aug 2011 | 9:42 am

Approaching the lit window.
I based this on my window when I was living at Upton Road in Bristol, and a radio that I subsequently gave away to someone who needed one. (it's represented by that dim shape to the bottom right of the window frame). I never could get the bugger reliably tuned in, so I hope they had better luck than I.
Source: adminicle | 28 Aug 2011 | 9:42 am

Back in the initial scale/scenario, moving towards the lighted window at night where the listener is waiting for the message that proves he is not alone.
I'm not sure about the text at this point. It seems to me that the collapse back into a more mundane scale has brough with it an over reliance on the available 'Radio' references. I'm not sure now how I would connote a real listening experience. Certainly the sense of company-desite-loneliness can be a real experience of radio, but I'm not sure that, given the foregoing metaphysical shenanigans, that I would choose to frame it quite as 'loneliness' where I doing this book today.
Source: adminicle | 27 Aug 2011 | 9:42 am





Continuing on from the zoom into the 'iris' sequence, the spaces between elements starts to open up, and the space is not so densely packed with information. We're now at the level of the space between things, or as my chums in Ozric Tentacles like to put it 'The bits between the bits'.
Source: adminicle | 24 Aug 2011 | 9:41 am

The extreme 'close up' effect over the preceding pages has brought us up to the level where the indentity of the image breaks down, and there are only materials to see reather than shapes. 'Weaving through the waves of the electromagnetic stream' seemed like an apt description of the listener's search for meaning over the airwaves, or anyone's struggle to make sense of the visible world.
Source: adminicle | 23 Aug 2011 | 9:41 am

Part of a sequence of images beginning with Radio 38. There is a small, barely-noticable bit of filigree decoration off centre at left that connotes a kind of embroidered 'weaving' of the needle. Im not sure it really adds anything and I think I'd just remove it were I producing the book now.
Source: adminicle | 22 Aug 2011 | 9:41 am



Windhorse Publications (2007), Edition: 2Rev Ed, Paperback, 176 pages
Source: aesop's books from LibraryThing | 11 Jul 2011 | 12:30 pm 

Windhorse Publications (1995), Paperback, 128 pages
Source: aesop's books from LibraryThing | 11 Jul 2011 | 12:29 pm 



Spring Publications (1970), Paperback, 160 pages
Source: aesop's books from LibraryThing | 11 Jul 2011 | 12:13 pm 

Spring Pubns (1973), Paperback, 200 pages
Source: aesop's books from LibraryThing | 11 Jul 2011 | 12:13 pm 

Inner City Books (1989), Paperback, 141 pages
Source: aesop's books from LibraryThing | 11 Jul 2011 | 12:13 pm 





Windhorse Publications (2004), Paperback, 240 pages
Source: aesop's books from LibraryThing | 11 Jul 2011 | 12:13 pm 

aesop posted a photo:
Though Ganesha could do with a suitable mount. Had some blu-tac handy.
Source: Uploads from aesop | 22 Jun 2011 | 6:52 pm





















aesop posted a photo:
This little guy has been on my desk all the way through my recent courses and exams, reminding me to 'get over the obstacles'.
Source: Uploads from aesop | 12 May 2011 | 1:37 pm

aesop posted a photo:
for a project I want to work on involving fabrics and textures
Source: Uploads from aesop | 5 May 2011 | 5:21 pm

aesop posted a photo:
A moment for the morning twangle
Source: Uploads from aesop | 4 May 2011 | 9:13 am

aesop posted a photo:
practice practice practice
Source: Uploads from aesop | 4 May 2011 | 9:12 am
A wind-miller has the duty to grind the meal so that the people living nearby can sell the produce they give him to grind and, indeed, so that they can earn their daily bread. Having had no wind to work with for weeks, and suddenly having some chance to do his work, he is tempted, even though he fears a storm. Should he risk the powerful machinery he is in charge of against the unknown? It may destroy him and the mill in the process.
In Turndust, I was able to use the windmill as a complex metaphor to discuss this in depth. Linguistically, wind-milling offers a range of interesting terminology that help give the writing texture and a specificity that helps me to distance the explicit description of visual events, cloaking them in language. Visually, the structure of the windmill itself is full of wood, beams, gears and a sense of a structure built to withstand enormous forces. A windmill is “built like a tank”. But the windmill also contains the means of its own destruction.

Every month I will feature an artists' book in this column. At the moment I am featuring my own. If you would like me to feature one of yours, with a very brief review/description, please get in touch.