My Kindle will one day be landfill. It will never be art. My library of some 6,000 volumes will one day be someone else’s to love or discard, to dive into or maybe even repurpose as something meaningful and beautiful for a new generation. Perhaps my books will find new homes, or perhaps they will be forgotten and decay.
I’ve spent a fair amount of time haunting used bookstores, searching for treasures or even passably worthwhile trash. Each store was an orphanage of sorts, and each book a child looking for a new home. This artist has taken some of those orphans and given them a form their creators never imagined. I love digital books. I love being able to carry a vast collection in a tiny package. But it can never be this. There is no chrysalis inside a Kindle waiting to become this beautiful butterfly.