research festival process
Attending the Research Festival in 2023 made me very excited with the possibility of creating an artist book for this year’s festival. I experimented previously with the book format in my Unit 2 work Personal quest, and felt like I wanted to make use of it again, as it could exist as a metaphor for some topics present in my practice and process: writing, being filled with layers, delving into an enclosed space that you have to be active to access, etc.
I thought, first, of creating it almost as a diary of personal thoughts, thinking of going through the pages as someone delving into layers of intimacy, layers of the body, or layers of memory — as I previously explained in my Unit 2 proposal for the festival here.
At that point, I was still unsure what the content of the book would be. I wanted it to explore and evoke aspects of my research, but I wasn’t sure how to do it. After attending the event’s briefing, I realized I had the possibility to explore my research in more than one format — a more traditional one and a more conceptual one —, so I proposed to create an artist book and also to publish online in the Reflections journal:
My first project is an artist book dealing with the idea of thresholds through materiality, exploring reflections on human existence, ephemerality, intimacy, and the line as a divisor and connector.
It'll be a conceptual and poetic object in the format of a book that cannot be opened, composed of translucent pages (of paper or fabric) that become increasingly diffused as each layer obscures the contents behind. It’ll be viewable from all sides, but the interior (the whole content) is somehow both kept secured and revealed, evoking the idea of a threshold between obfuscation and exposure.
It’ll be hand-stitched, around 20 x 20 cm, without a cover, displayed on a small shelf, inside a clear acrylic box, evoking the act of having to go through another (fragile) layer to access something deeper.
The second project (online publication) will be the written outcome of my research, combining my critical reflection texts together. (October 2nd proposal)

Personal Quest, 2024. Thread and ink pen on folded tracing paper. 10.5 x 7.5 cm (each)
After sending this first proposal, I finished reading On Longing, by Susan Stewart, and felt connected and inspired by some concepts present in the book; at the same time, I got inspired by looking at different types of artists’ books that I found in online institution collections, such as Tate and the Victoria and Albert Museum. Those references made me open my perspectives on what an artist book could take form of, and also allowed me to reflect on the symbolisms of the medium itself.
Considering the book as a miniature — related to the concept of miniature present in On Longing —, it can be viewed as a metaphor for the interior space. I reflect more on the relationship between scale, body and intimacy in the Critical Reflection section, but I focus here specifically on the format of the book.
“The metaphors of the book are metaphors of containment, of exteriority and inferiority, of surface and depth, of covering and exposure, of taking apart and pulling together” (STEWART, 1992, p.37). This is related with both space and time, as it can be perceived as a world of “arrested time”: “(…) its stillness emphasizes the activity that is outside its borders. And this effect is reciprocal, for once we attend to the miniature world, the outside world stops and is lost to us” (1992, p.67). This also emphasizes the position of the body in relation to my book — even though it is only possible to “stand outside, looking in, experiencing a type of tragic distance” (1992, p.71), its impact aims to reach the realm of the interior. “Miniature in its role as both an experience of interiority and the process by which that interior is constructed” (1992, p.69).
By “miniaturizing” the world of everyday life, the relation between materiality and meaning is tested (STEWART, 1992, p.57). I became, then, even more interested in evoking these metaphors of the book as a charged object/enclosed space through materiality and through the impossibility of accessing its whole interior, reflecting on intimacy and vulnerability, on thresholds of interior and exterior, personal and collective, private and public.
Another reference that I collected recently is the sewn books of Maria Lai. I came across the artist’s work on my trip to Rome in September, and got inspired by the way that the stitching creates the content but at the same time keeps it hidden, by the thread that expands from the pages, by the analogy of the thread being a "thread of life". The exhibition Penelope, held at the Colosseum Archeological Park, brings a quote from the artist: “Sewn books (…) asked to be held in the hands, touched, leafed through page after page, so that the reader can linger there for longer and with greater attention” (Lai’s quote in the exhibition text).

Maria Lai's book in the Penelope exhibition at the Colosseum Archeological Park, Rome, September 2024
In this process of collecting references, I started to think about the content of the book. I was, until recently, unsure whether I'd like to explore verbal language or images only, because I'm very drawn to both ideas. I only knew that I wanted the content to be in a place that was both hidden and revealed through the materiality.
At one point when I was working with the drawings of Unfinished, I thought of using them for this publication, as I wanted to explore ideas of passage of time, of what is harder to access, of layers and liminal existence. As the sketches evolved into another medium (animation), I was unsure whether I should still work with them for the book format. However, I decided I wanted to push myself out of my usual process and work with the images again. Since the own nature of Unfinished is its relationship with process and open-endedness, I thought that it would make sense to continue exploring it in different contexts.
Therefore, I started working with the images one more time. I decided to print the digital drawings in tracing paper to form the pages, one drawing in each page, layered, until the viewer cannot access it anymore. The use of tracing paper not only evokes the feeling of process, but also influences the perception through its translucent characteristic, allowing the layers to exist and, at the same time, to fade. In this stage, I decided to let go of the need to use words to compose the book; I wanted the reflections to be subtle and for the book to contain a certain "silence" in itself, as it cannot be fully accessed in its messy and "loud" interior of intertwined and gestural lines.
I printed the digital drawings at the Chelsea Print Services, in A2 format, to later cut them into approximately 14 x 14 cm pieces. The square-shaped format brings me the feeling of something more contained in itself, almost as a box. Thus, the decision of a a smaller/more common book scale was an attempt to bring this feeling of the usually unnoticed things/moments in everyday life, to find something without looking for it, to pay attention to details and to what is harder to access.
Together with these decisions, I also thought of the method of display. In my proposal, I originally thought of placing it on a shelf, surrounded by an acrylic box to add another layer. However, I gave up on the box as I thought it would create a distance from the idea of vulnerability I wanted to express; if I wanted it to feel vulnerable (as it doesn't have a cover, as it is a somewhat fragile material, as it brings in its subject the reflection on time and life), I should leave it open to the public. From this point, I also thought that the idea of displaying it in a clear acrylic shelf, almost the same size as the book, almost as if it's "floating" in the space, would possibly better evoke those feelings of being vulnerable and existing "on the edge".

Printed drawings, process of the book, November 2024
Apart from the ideas of display, I’m currently in the stage prior to the start of the stitching. Previously, I was already thinking of using the Japanese bookbinding to stitch the pages together; then, in a recent bookbinding workshop with Clare Bryan, I confirmed this idea. She brought different formats of bookbindings and I saw a book that was the closest example to what I was planning on doing on my own project.
Clare recommended me to use a white or transparent thread to create my binding, as it would connect to the whole idea of the book, and advised me to be careful when manipulating the tracing paper, as it could rip or create creases easily. The process will be, I imagine, a manifestation of this idea of fragility in real life. Sometimes, certain types of tracing paper makes me feel like I'm working between a fragile and hard material, especially in contrast with the fabrics I use; this was interesting to realize in this process of selecting the surface, considering its content and reflections.
The stitching of the binding is an important detail that relates to my embroidery practice, and also with the idea of keeping things attached, keeping things together; this is why I decided to hand-stitch the whole book.

Example of bookbinding brought by Clare Bryan during the workshop, October 2024
This is the present stage where my printed publication project is (beginning of November, 2024). Regarding the second project, the essay, it is also in its last stages, as I'm editing my Unit 3 critical reflection to publish it in the online journal.