In July, my partner and I will travel 2800 miles across the country to Reno, Nevada where I will be the next Nell J. Redfield Fellow at the Black Rock Press, University of Nevada. When I applied for the fellowship, I really didn't think that I would be the lucky one. Fellowships are always so competitive, and there are so few in Book Arts. I feel honored and blessed to be granted this opportunity. 

2800 miles is a long way from the Corcoran, and even longer from my hometown in Pennsylvania. My family had mixed reactions to the announcement, as I expected. My parents and siblings were happy for me, but also a bit saddened by the amount of distance that will be between us. After the initial shock wore off, I got the expected calls proclaiming that they will have to come visit, and they are excited to explore the area. 

I have had little opportunity to visit the west coast myself. Having visited as a teenager, I don't remember much, except that I was trapped in a house with relatives (who of course I love dearly, but what the heck—Yosemite was a mere three hours away!!!). I got a glimpse of the Redwoods and Monterey Bay, but I don't recall much else. I can hear Lake Tahoe, the Grand Canyon, and the California coast calling us! Oh the sights we will see! 

Our adventure will start with our move. We are planning to take a few days to see some of the country as we drive to the other side. I am hoping we will be able to visit some friends en route too. I am not so good with the driving aspect (I haven't driven too much since we relocated to DC—ugh, the traffic here is treacherous!), but I will have to do my share since it will take us a few days. Our little Min Pin will be joining us too. Thankfully, she loves a car ride and always adjusts well. 

This past weekend I learned how to make my own tools. Making artists' books requires many different tools, but the most common is the bone folder. You can find bone folders in your local craft store, but the majority are mass produced and bleached. There is nothing quite as satisfying as using a hand made tool. I thought so at least, until I made my own. 

The Guild of Book Workers hosted a workshop with Shanna Leino this weekend at Pyramid Atlantic in Silver Spring, Maryland. Shanna is a well known book artist and tool maker. She came with all the tools and materials we needed to make our own bone folders: moose bone (already boiled and cut down into smaller pieces), hewing hatchets, chisels, files, jeweler's saws, a dremmel tool, and many, many Band-Aids!. The process is low tech but requires a good bit of effort and time. Patience is definitely required! 

As part of my thesis, I am creating a handmade book that addresses relationships that have had the greatest impact on me. I have been writing letters to people who have influenced me. Rather than mailing these letters and risking hurt feelings and subsequent revenge, I use these only as a self-reflection necessary while en route to realization. Each letter explores what I have taken away from each partnership or friendship- the good, bad, the surprising. 

In preparing my project, I also realized that the art I most enjoy is often interactive and offers the viewer an opportunity to participate. While you, my loyal or perhaps random reader, anxiously await for the printing press to cool, I offer a space for you to share a brief insight into your own influential relationship. I am curious to hear from others about how you too have been impacted by a relationship. Whether they are current or past relationships, do you reflect on how someone has changed you? 

I often think we don't notice the changes in ourselves unless they are monumental or drastic. I know I didn't notice how much I had changed while in a relationship until I didn't seem to know the person looking back at me in the mirror. Have you had a similar experience? Sometimes these changes are good, and we happily reflect on them. Sometimes they are bad, and we can't believe that we actually allowed ourselves to become that person. All of our experiences change us in small ways or extreme ways.

I invite you to share your thoughts and your stories. Share your insights and your epiphanies. While the juicy details and horrifically embarrassing tidbits are often the most fun to dish, let's leave names out of the mix here. My recommendation is to stick with pronouns so that we do not offend or infringe on privacy.  

While groups of people huddled around excitedly chatting with one another about Oscar nominees and the best dressed on the red carpet, I prepared to host a party of my own. WIth 20 buckets, a bag of plaster, a few bags of Alga-Safe, and an industrial auger, I prepped a garage and basement for a different kind of casting party.

Rather than asking people to act out a fictional role, I enlisted their help in creating physical representations of individuals who played a part in my life. I cast their hands. About thirty people stopped by my parents' house in Pennsylvania in order to help me with my thesis work. 

The project entitled In Your Hands is an exploration of relationships . Every relationship and every interaction we have with others impacts how we see the world and how we behave.  I am creating a sculptural book installation that will be on display at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington, DC from April 30-May 17, 2014. In Your Hands focuses on how our interactions with others shape the person we become. 

It was an intense day of work, starting at 8:00 A.M. and lasting well into the night. I used a material called Alja-Safe to make the molds and then created a positive by pouring plaster into the negative.  I was overwhelmed by the number of people who extended their hands for me to mold this weekend. People from all aspects of my life showed their support; former colleagues from teaching, students I taught in high school and elementary school, friends--old and new, family,  former partners, and even perfect strangers gathered around a small table and offering to immerse their hands into purple goo. 

The process took at least 10 minutes each and required a good deal of physical exertion (on my part). After each hand was molded and cast with plaster, it had to be cut out of the Alga-Safe and packed for transport. Thankfully, I had some help from my partner and my mother, who stayed up late and got up early to help me finish before heading back to DC for the week. 

So far, I have about 30 hands cast, although not all are usable. While the molds have the ability to show intricate details such a wrinkles, scars, and even missing fingers, they also are subject to flaws from gravity and other scientific factors I won't dare try to explain. I will need to make some additional molds in the upcoming weeks to reach approximately 40 pairs of hands. These combined with a handmade book will be installed in the gallery. I haven't yet decided if the hands will hold the pages of the book or objects to represent events/interactions that have shaped me.