Communion Of Dreams


Transformation.

There is truth in this:

The No. 1 question I get at readings is: “How many hours a day do you write?” I used to stumble on this question. I don’t write every day, but when I first started going on book tours I was afraid I’d be revealed as a true fraud if I admitted that. Sometimes I write for 20 minutes. Other times I don’t stop writing for six hours, falling over at the end like an emotional, wrung-out mess, simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated. Sometimes I go months without putting a word on the page.

One night, however, I was asked that question and the right answer just popped out, unknown to me before it found solidity on the air: “I write every waking minute,” I said. I meant, of course, that I am always writing in my head.

I’m lucky.

OK, actually I’m very lucky, because I am lucky in many ways. But what I am thinking of right now is that my chosen profession allows me time to think — to write in my head, as it were.

To write in my head as I preserve the words of others. The written words.  Specifically, the *printed* words.

Like this:

Joined sheets.

Joined sheets.

 

That’s the next step from my last report on the 1470 text. I got all the individual sheets attached, creating “sections” of the book. Or, I should say, re-creating the sections which once were.

Sections "punched" to create sewing stations - where the sewing thread will join them one to the other. And the start of that sewing process.

Sections “punched” to create sewing stations – where the sewing thread will join them one to the other. And the start of that sewing process.

 

Then moving on, linking not just words, not just pages, but whole passages, whole section, one to the other:

Linking, one to the next.

Linking, one to the next.

 

What you see there is called a “chain stitch”. A curious term, implying not just links, but connections, even slavery.

Can words be enslaved?

Clean edges. Clean definitions.

Clean edges. Clean definitions.

 

And this shows — proves — that my technique works. All the sections line up properly.  Almost perfectly.

And so the pages are transformed, from individual pages, into a book.

Like writing.

 

Jim Downey