When I was a child my family had a book called Wait And See. In my recollection it is small, squarish with a hard cover and cotton stitching that was somewhat old and sagging, so that the pages were a bit loose. The book had some story about a girl, which I don’t remember at all. What I do remember is that every second page of the book said “wait and see” the words were in quite small font, right in the middle of the page, like this:
Mostly I used to read the book by reading every second page, the wait and see page. Maybe it was because I was not very good at reading, or maybe compared to the trite stories most children’s books contained ‘wait and see’ was quite compelling. Read this way it was all waiting and no seeing. The potential was endless.
Not that this has too much to do with an artist’s book, which presumably has as much to do with seeing as waiting. It does however have a bit to do with looking at a book (as opposed to reading it for its story) I remember this book as a tactile object; it’s thin yellowed pages slightly loose on their cottons and those little words floating in the empty page. I also, retrospectively, remember it as a performative moment, I could choose how to read the book, and by so doing reinvent it entirely. I did not have to be an obedient viewer reading from beginning to end, it worked just as well backwards.