A number of months ago I was gifted an altered book class. I went with my friend Joy, not knowing what to expect. I was handed a discarded, hardbound book. I was told by the instructor at Ink About It to "tear out pages"!
I have stacks of books. My Beloved shares my love of books. The perfect date for us is in a bookstore, especially if it is a used bookstore with old books.
So, when the instructor told me to, "Tear out pages" I hesitated. I began reading my discard. It was titled Doctor Love. It was trash; pure (well not in the least), banal trash. What publisher in their right mind would accept this as a book? It was horribly written. I won't even apologize if you are the author. I tore pages out with fervor.
Altering this discarded book has been a fun experience. Somewhere in the midst of Twinkling H2O's and a glue stick, it morphed into a theme of butterflies.
This one is not finished yet. When will I ever find the time? This page is still a work in progress.
I have enjoyed the freedom in this form of art. There are no rules in art. Right?