Back to ProjectsThis book you are holding is a junkyard
A book cover against a patch of dead grass. The cover reads, 'This book you are holding is an unkempt garden, a junkyard. Let the weeds overgrow, hack through [the fences].' Its text is green, printed on newsprint. A sliver of the cover is cut out, revealing a green pattern in the interior. Overhead shot of an open book on a concrete ground. The text and images are green and the inner folds are densely textured with an unidentifiable pattern. The inner fold of the front cover, photographed in front of a lawn with fallen leaves: unknown glyphs and diacritics spill out from the gutter in varying shades of green. Front cover of a book, typeset in a green font with a green geometric texture peeking through a cut-out area. The cover is slightly yellowed from having been out in the sun for a while. The background is black. Open spread of a book, typeset in a green font with green images. The background is black. Open spread of a book, typeset in a green font with green images. The background is black. Open spread of a book, typeset in a green font with green images. The background is black. Open spread of a book, typeset in a light gray/white font, against a dark green background. With parts of the top and bottom cut away, the previous and following pages peek through with an inversed color scheme (green text on light paper). The background is black. Open spread of a book, typeset in a green font. Its left page being cut away at the bottom reveals a scrambled, green texture from previous pages. The background is black. Open spread of a book, typeset in a green font with green images. The background is black. Open spread of a book, typeset in a green font with a green geometric texture peeking through a cut-out area. The background is black. Back cover of a book, typeset in a green font with green images. The background is black.

Jussi Parikka’s essay, “Malware as Operational Art: On the If/Then of Geopolitics and Tricksters,” encourages a reconsideration of glitches and instances of computer failure as the norm.

Continuing my research into interface metaphors, the structure of this book references the skeletal syntax of the web and the layered, nested anatomy of HTML. Smaller moves — the unravelling typography and cut paper revealing a computer-generated texture on the inner folds — seek to reinforce this theme of perceived danger, offering an uneasy, anti-reader friendly experience.

The use of San Francisco references the visual language of Apple products, whereas Apple Chancery embodies the sprawl of weeds and hints at contagion. A condensed Authentic Sans invites the reader to reconsider what a book can be — as seen in the front cover, which seeks to act as a billboard.

Winter 2020

3.5 × 6.5"