A book of whispers

I am parched with thirst and I perish. But give me to drink . from the everflowing spring on the right, by the cypress.“Who are you?Where are you from?” . I am the daughter of Earth and starry Heaven.

 
 
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the process

The sacred writings of the gold lamellae have a metaphysical character. How can I give visual form to whispers? Whispers are fleeting, hovering on the cusp of perception, of consciousness. I oscillated. White ink on white paper made of flax? Blind stamping, embossing, without ink? Finally, I decided on the rare technique of watermarks. A watermark allows the sacred text to remain hidden, in a latent state within the fibers of the paper; it comes to life for a moment, as the reader lifts the folio and light illuminates it.

 
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