India can break your mind and shatter your past. For some it is a narcotic, the most subtle and addictive of drugs. It is vast enough that you can find in it whatever you might be seeking. And seekers love it. It is a cultural nuclear reactor that, due to the immensity of the population; the sheer weight of individuals, traditions, customs, religions, and beliefs; has gone critical. There is no controlling it and very little understanding it. After you have been there you will find that even the most crowded streets anywhere else seem empty. Everything. Everywhere. All the time. India.
I made this book out of leather, rivets, a discarded poster-board from the catholic school system detailing the saints and, among other things, a penny from 1905. When I first made it I wanted to carry it in a sack on a trip. I wanted to carry it so that it would wear away the edges, add to the patina and give it a worthy, lived-in quality. I wanted the cover to become like the skin of a man who has been travelling a very long time.
Here is a list of books.