i ordered nox by anne carson and it arrived monday. it is the book i wish i had created:
it is one long accordion fold of text/image/collage, housed in a clamshell box.
written after her brother died, the author’s visual exploration of grief is familiar to me.
the ephemera/photos/collages/clippings convey what written words cannot say.
i want to devour it up all in one sitting… but i also want to savor every page.