I made a book years ago, yet it remained empty, always too precious to write in. What story could be worthy of its pages? So I began placing it in the garden in different locations, allowing shadows, wind, and foliage to tell a story upon it. It became a receptor, and the camera recorded its story. I realized I could write in it without writing in it. The book is the same book, but each time I place it somewhere new, it tells a different story. The possibilities are endless.