Still Life with Open Book

This is a painting that I made several years ago.  Yes, it's terribly old fashioned.  It looks like it could have been painted in the 19th century except for the fact that the objects are from recent times.  The central object is a book called The Look of Reading, opened to a page that includes a painted illusion of a photograph of an open book with painted images on its pages.  I call this layering of self-references a "reality sandwich".  The words on the page are about books with paintings of images of books with paintings in them . . . .  They also discuss the readability of the type and how Jan van Eyck is the greatest master of the readable painted book or page.  The drawing covering the other page has doodles and a sketch that appears to be the thumbnail design of this painting.  Yes, that is a painted illusion of a fly on the upper corner of the editor's desk.

I did this painting because I love books.  They have been my companions since I was less than 3 years old.  I taught myself to read and could get through an entire book (e.g. 4th grade reader from the 20's) at 3.  It's an obsession I guess, and a rather unfortunate one.  I now realize that too much reading and drawing at an early age exacerbated my myopia.  When I get a new book, or even borrow one, I examine it with most of my senses -- I smell the pages and lightly run my fingers over the paper, the cover too if it has embossing or an interesting texture, enjoy the quiet sound of the binding as it opens, or flex a paperback and listen.  A nice scrunchy sound can be heard in many thicker paperbacks especially if there is a little kaolin in the paper.  I undress hardcovers to check out under the dust jacket, admiring the color of the cloth and the lettering of the title and author's name, the logo of the press.  I read the information in tiny print that tells me when it was printed and all the other editions.  I pause to admire the title page and the choice of type, the arrangement on the page, . . . .  Sometimes I get really close and look at the texture of the fibres in the paper and the slight ragged edges of the inked letters (which is invisible when you are at proper reading distance.)  I check out the back pages: index, bibliography, appendices.  Often I look through at any pictures before settling in to read, beginning with any prefaces, introduction, acknowledgements.  The only thing I don't do is lick it to see how it tastes.  That would be silly.

Digital books can't compete with the printed object for a sensual experience.