So, as I sense it, there is a dynamic to a book. A regular book where the pages are in some permanent order. There is still a motion and a going to the turning of the pages and the story unfolding. In a way that it was planned to unfold. Or in the way that the reader or looker might pace the looking, or turning back to review or marking to measure how far.
And here in this freer format, an added dynamic of the possibility of adding constant reordering. But I am also caught today in the quiet stillness of removing the pages. Today, in a new way. How that might remove the time element built into the page turning of the book format.
How it might be a statement about one's sense of time.
How sometimes life is like a book. And how it binds my days.