The Land is a Library

The land and its animal inhabitants have always been integral to the creation of books: parchment produced from the skin of calves, tree pulp for paper, vegetable charcoal into ink... If one were to make books localized materially and conceptually around Anima Casa, what might that look like? How can a kiln, burning donkey shit, produce a book? Are the black embers floating through the sunset from nearby burning sugar kane just a series of punctuation marks waiting to find their pages? Are the fish sucking up algae in the swimming pool acting as

editors of some acquatome? How does environment allow us to inhabit the space between languages? What is learned from skinning rabbits? What space is made by pulling air, sand, and water into the pages of a book? What does it mean to create books that blur and bridge geographies; books that promise an undoing of languages; books that offer an experience? These and many other questions will shape the residency until we prove The Land is a Library.