I spent a summer collecting poison ivy leaves, drying them and pulping them for paper making. Gathering the toxic leaves that grow thick and lush in the woods near my home was my more than once a day ritual. It was hot work in the heavy, humid heat of the forest while overdressed in either rose gauntlets or rubber gloves, and thick Adidas track pants. They were not the pants made for running, or meant to streamline a workout. They certainly didn’t breathe, but instead were meant to be durable, warm, and, with their zippered pockets and tailored front seam, no doubt stylish. In the summer heat they were stifling. The lightweight cute gym leggings made more popular for coffee than workouts don’t stand a chance against the wild roses leaning over the path that inevitably snared me with their biting thorns, or the raspberries with their smaller teeth that only nibbled. No, those fashion statements of fitness would be in shreds. Overdressing was the only option.

The heat made my heart beat with more prominence in an odd combination of sluggish and efficient. It was an alarm bell to the insects that had been patiently waiting, angry and blood thirsty. I tried every repellent concoction available, including the homemade recipes shared online by beautiful women in beautiful white kitchens, who I quickly learned have no working knowledge of the fierce determination belonging to the Michigan mosquito and horsefly. Hats are supposed to help too, but they never do. Inevitably I would leave the woods bloodied and cursing from battle, but not before filling large shopping bags with poison ivy, its pungent scent stinging my nose.

My purpose was to make an intentionally poisonous book, tying together the long histories of women and poison, and the book as precious gift. The text within sensuously describes the temptation and allure of forbidden fruit, but the materials suggest an act of revenge. A book is meant to be held.

The primary material I this artists’ book is poison ivy. The accordion structure is made of handmade paper consisting of poison ivy, cotton, and kozo. The pages are arranged in a tonal gradation created by the increased amount of poison ivy pulp such that the final pages of the accordion are nearly pure poison ivy.  Luscious green poison ivy leaves are laminated onto the back side of the accordion which both invite touch and warn the harmful consequences of such an action.  While the shape of the leaves of three and the pungent scent of poison ivy typically act as a warning, here they become an intriguing and tempting invitation.  There is a flirtation of materials with the addition of mulberry pages bound into the structure with a poison ivy stem.