When I began making books I saw the process as a continuation of the temptation Eve faced in the Garden of Eden, hence my pressmark. Eve's apple had sensual qualities (beautiful, fragrant, tasty); it imparted knowledge; it was forbidden. To make books as tempting as Eve's apple, I make use of a variety of media and reproduction techniques (offset and letterpress printing, printmaking, hand painting and drawing, as well as the use of the computer) and various book structures (experimental, traditional, and historical). A result of this desire to make tempting objects is that one might say my books are "all over the place." My work has always been eclectic. The books vary considerably in structure, content, and techniques employed. Some books reflect a spiritual journey through the study of myth; some reflect the compulsive study of language in its corporeal form (letters and type); some are the creation of new biographies and stories by recycling found materials with new text; others are spontaneous products of a curiosity of form or reactions to events. Regardless of the motivation, it is the intimacy, the sensuality of the form and the materials, the control over sequencing, the telling of stories that feed the creative process.

My first books were very typographic in their focus: the history of the alphabet, playful ABC specimen books featuring my lead and wood type collection. As my binding skills improved (through MANY workshops and trial-and-error), the topics also expanded and the storyteller in me resurfaced. The non-print visual communicator has also resurfaced since I took a web design class last year. I have begun an enormous project that combines the book in its traditional form with the addition of the digital CD-ROM to take full advantage of surface and in-depth story telling. Tentatively titled The Taylor Brother Adventures, I am creating an archaeology adventure that takes the brothers around the world beginning roughly in 1895. The images will be created by combining antique photographs, scans of 3D "artifacts" and images from purchased stock photographs to make the characters and their adventures all seem very real. The primary stories must fit in a standard accordion format for offset printing. The digital version will have the same look on the screen with horizontal scrolling but with the addition of links to extensive background information concerning the various cities, countries, people, civilizations, biographies, etc. The information for the links will take a great deal of time to research and investigate. Four stories have been written and tested out on a few readers, including the look of the web version. I can't tell you how much money I have spent on antique photos, reproduction artifacts, etc. My studio has an area that now looks like the storage area for a real archaeology dig!

The summer of 1999 marked the introduction of the political voice in my work. To overcome a significant creative block I had encountered while writing Songs for Eden, I decided to engage in an intense creative exercise with the hope of crashing through the block. I set a limit of 24 hours [three eight hour days] to write text, set wood and lead type and print an edition. The Kosovo "conflict" was the hot news item in June 1999 and the June 22 paper gave me the ingredients I needed. There were quotes from Vojoslav Seselj (Serb) and a Kosovar couple. The voices [Vojoslav - the Kosovar wife - the Kosovar husband] would be expressed in different type faces and colors. The Serb text focused upon Seselj's comment: "Serb troops did not rape Kosovo women because they are too ugly for Serb men." The Kosovar text combined the silence and denial of the young wife who would not admit to having been raped by Serb police and the husband who knew it but had no evidence and would divorce her immediately if it was revealed. The book was a critical success and the primary reason, I believe, is that the text was not overworked but raw and blunt. There was no time to overwork it or overthink it.

The political voice gradually became louder in my work. In Women Dream, the focus is on Judeo-Christian-Muslim constructs of gender space, dreams, consequences. Then came Gulf War III [Iran-Iraq from 1980-1988, Iraq's invasion of Kuwait-Operation Desert Storm in 1991; US + coalition force invasion of Iraq-Operation Iraqi Freedom from 2003 to ?]. It became the seed for: Icarus, an examination of the infamous g-word genocide [Cambodia to Central America to Iraq to Bosnia to Rwanda]; Axis of Evil broadside for Pandora's Box by epicenter [North Korea (poverty)-Iraq (past use of chemical and biological weapons)-Iran (consequences of fossil fuels)]; Cost of War for the Center for Book Arts in New York. Then came the Quest for the Ethical Compass: A Chronicle of Presidents Volume IV.

This edition exists primarily because Ed Hutchins sent me one of the pop-up invitations for Stand and Deliver. There was something else I wanted to say that I could not say in Icarus and Axis of Evil and I quickly realized here was an opportunity. When the call came out for the show Stand and Deliver, I examined my current work to see if I could create something to submit to the jury. Research for Icarus had put the spotlight on the inconsistencies of American politics and a foreign policy of self-interest. This crashed into Lewis Lapham's "Compass bearings" which then collided with discussions of GWBush as a man with moral clarity. It was as if I couldn't help myself. It became a Holy Grail-knights in shining armor search for the elusive ethical compass by U.S. presidents (and friends) from JFK to George W. (Why not start the Chronicle with the fourth volume?) Everyone/everything was been fair game in this quest; the Chronicle truly attempted to be fair and balanced. The illustrations became an homage to Max Ernst's Une Semaine de Bonte, composed of Dover/public domain clip art/19th century imagery from books found in junk shops. They were all collaged/massaged/colored in Photoshop with some Illustrator typographic manipulations. I didn't even have the book fully mapped out when I sent off slides of the freshly completed pages to the jury. If the book was selected for the show, come hell or high water it would be done. As I worked on the integration of content and imagery and pop-ups/movable parts, it became a cancer. I couldn't stop the growth. Then came the deadline. It stopped growing. I swore I would never do another pop-up edition but I have broken that promise and have begun work on The Chronicle of Presidents, Volume V: The Book of Revelations. This volume will focus entirely on the Bush administration in the form of seven chapters with seals to break and an opportunity for the reader to decide Rapture or the Monty Python foot descending from cloud as an ending to the Chronicle. The question is: Do I wait for the term to end or work with the plethora of material accumulated thus far?

The Quest for the Ethical Compass is political. It is also historical. It is not a rant. It is through my work I would rather "discuss" political and historical issues. I don't have to think fast on my feet or get caught in a rhetorical debate. I can do the research, reflect on my findings, write the first draft, let it sit, burn the midnight oil. There is an eloquence possible through the book that can be lost in the heated exchange of words. One can never write or illustrate without bias, but as editor at least I know I have read all sides of the "arguments." I can polish the paragraphs. I don't have shout or interrupt to get my voice heard in a debate or deal with the emotions of someone's monologue/rant. Here I can set the tone and pace. Here I can make sure I don't miss an important point. Here I can choose my language carefully, thoughfully. It is less stressful a way to deal with the events of the day.

I have since added three new volumes to the political book collection [and yes, there is more to come]. In August 2005 I took the research left over from Icarus on genocide and war crimes and put them into US | THEM. My frustrations concerning the world's non-response to the Bosnia/Kosovo conflicts has been brought to life in What if it happened here?. Some of the consequences of the current Iraq war have been highlighted in If Johnny comes marching home.

There are moments when I feel I would be better off not focusing upon these topics in my work. Mood swings, tears, a feeling of disgust, a fear of becoming a voyeur all haunt me but I tell myself someone must stand as a witness.

There are two types of witnesses: one who has direct experience, and another who chooses to stand and witness, to remember and remind others. Although I do not always feel comfortable with the concept of "bearing witness" because of its religious overtones and the response it can evoke in others, as a book artist I see my current books as intimate witnesses, testimonies of history and human behavior. I have focused on issues of war and genocide since 1999 and have attempted to explore different methods of presenting information to the reader to initiate a personal examination of what has happened, what may happen, and the responsibility to confront injustice, no matter where it occurs. Although we have many examples of how history has taught us nothing, it is my hope to present history in such a way that it does teach something.

Throughout 2004 I experienced a "crisis of faith" as a book artist. The culmination of coping with a house fire in 2003 and facing the daily frustrations of new house construction for 14 months crashed into the research I was doing for two new editions. This has left me seriously wondering whether I would continue making books. I chose my path consciously, knowing I would be working with content difficult to read, believe, understand, and digest as I worked to put history into book form. The crisis of faith had nothing to do with losing my conviction to continue to serve as a witness. The crisis of faith was the result of attempting to emotionally and intellectually resolve the periodic crushing moments of cognitive dissonance about whether the work I create is capable of making a difference.

The weekend of February 19-21 was a difficult research period. From the kitchen window in my new home I looked out to the east. The air was crisp and fresh; the sky was cloudless blue. The sun highlighted Mt. Baker. The frost was melting away. On the kitchen table was my reading material. I was engaged in research for a broadside for the Center for the Book in New York. For two weeks (between teaching and press supervision, course preparation, office hours and meetings) I had gathered information on the cost of war, specifically Gulf War II. The visual landscape of the broadside was crystal clear. As I read, the story was emerging, themes were appearing here and there from the many readings [Powers - Hedges - Shawcross - Butler - Atkinson].

I worked - reworked - redid - the opening. I tried to remember a particular book I read when writing Icarus with a quote by Madeline Albright in response to a question concerning the impact on sanctions on the women and children of Iraq during the 90s. I looked out again to Mt. Baker and "saw" the quote on the right hand page. Ducks landed in the pond and distracted me momentarily. All of a sudden I "saw" the cover. I retrieved it from the temporary bookshelf in the basement and began reading and taking notes. Then came the tears. My father instructed me to be a skeptic reader. "Do not believe everything you read. Objectivity does not exist." But, it is always the preponderance of evidence from so many different sources that bring on the tears, again and again. A fellow book artist commented there was just too much negativity today and asked why there wasn't a voice for the positive qualities of human behavior and interaction. We spoke briefly about a "Pollyanna" approach to content. I encouraged her to witness for the positive qualities because I knew I could never ignore the preponderance of evidence concerning the opposite human behavior.

In the making of all my books I have been able to shake off much of the crisis state of mind when printing. The physicality of the process creates a meditative state, particularly when I have two colors front and back for an edition of 100.

There are moments that I panic and fear that there will never be enough time to accomplish all the books I have planned. This fear is tempered by the joyous, serendipitous discoveries that are made along the way as spontaneous books emerge as a by-product of the research and preparation for the more formal books.

Of making of many books there is no end.