Artist's book c.1983

Artist's book c.1984

An artist's book lying in wait for the appropriate moment to spring into action. c.1983

Installed at The Upstairs in Tryon, NC, at the Bookart SE artist's book show, c.1984

Artist's Book c.1984. Designed with opposing magnets built into the covers, forcing the book to stay open.

Artist's book c.1982

Artist's book and performance piece: The opening continuously moves the book along, producing a "flip-flopping" sound that mimics the graphic. c.1985

Artist's book c.1985

Artist's book, each page in a separate box with a lid. Detail from an installation of wall paintings, found objects, machines, puppets, and a variety of other materials, from a show of the same title at St. John's Museum of Art, c.1987

Installation view of Work in Progress, Artist’s Book, St. John’s Museum of Art, c. 1987

In the early 1980s, I became fascinated with PostScript—a new programming language that defined how images and text appear on a printed page. It was described as “a tool for printing in the electronic age,” and that idea resonated with me. I wanted to understand how this language actually worked, not just on the surface, but from the inside out.

PostScript stores its data in a stack, a temporary space in memory that functions much like a physical stack of books: the last thing placed on top is the first to come off. That simple image—order, layering, removal—became central to my thinking.

Work in Progress grew out of that curiosity. Each page of the book was placed in its own box, waiting to be discovered. Viewers lifted the lids one by one, uncovering each page as if stepping through the logic of the language itself—an exploration of process, repetition, and the beauty of construction revealed through slow, deliberate uncovering.

A conceptual artist's book and sculpture c.1987