Perhaps it is the most recent snowstorm -- these spring blizzards try the spirit.   Or perhaps it was the dust bunny the size of an actual rabbit.   Whatever.   Since the last communique -- can I say that instead of blog please --  I've become increasingly interested in cures for hysteria.   According to The Science of Human Life, published in 1921  . . . hysteria is not made up only of fits; its symptoms are strange and wonderful.  They take so many forms, vary so immensely in different cases, and so mimic almost every other disease under the sun, that it will be both impossible and useless to mention half, or indeed a tenth part, of them.

My last symptom took the form of ridding the house of electronic junk.  As if in vengeful sympathy my MacBook Pro turned on my trusty iMac (retro-future design, bright turquoise, I have two of them).  My new stuff refuses to recognize files from my old stuff.   New mysterious stuff is snubbing old mysterious stuff.  End times are near.

And from the news it seems the world is falling apart.  Could downloading the Word of God onto a Kindle be contributing?  Rest easy, dear Dolores, I don't think so.  I saw a real Gutenberg Bible at the J.P. Morgan library.  The letters were still crisp and the ink a stark black.  Yet I am sure that many people felt that the Bible was supposed to be written out by hand and illuminated -- which is actually how I write my books.  Except the illuminations are just doodles.  

Perhaps I have a form of hysteria that cannot be cured by friendly gadgets like this astonishing laptop.  This other book at my elbow has a cover with a pebbly green texture.  The pages have the smell of clean old paper.  Perhaps instead of smelling salts one has only to open a well kept old book beneath her nose . . .   
 

When I tell strangers that I work from home, the women are the ones who say, "I couldn't do that because I'd always be cleaning.  I'd never get anything done."  Which is why I strenuously try not to clean before I go upstairs to my garret, put on my fingerless gloves, and begin to write.  Recently, however, I've been sneak cleaning.  I have been trying to get rid of electronic junk.  In this house there has occurred a buildup of old computers, CD players, cameras, games, tape players, hard drives, computer printers and a copy machine from 1990 -- a work horse that just gave up.  All of these items are made of supremely toxic stuff and it isn't easy to find a place that will recycle it all.  

One reason I've thought kindly of electronic reading devices, even though we as a bookstore are devoted to the book as a book, was the thought of saving trees.  But now when I look at my bags of once cutting edge electronic rubbish, I also imagine all of the Kindles, Nooks, E Readers and other book substitutes that will get dropped, waterlogged, stepped on, smashed, or just become an old thing like any other piece of charmless crap.  

I have lots of old books, too.  I have my first William Faulkner set of mass market paperbacks bought in a basement bookstore in Harvard Square.  I have my first edition of Felix Cohen's Handbook of American Indian Law.  I have an old Materia Medica from the attic of our house in Wahpeton, North Dakota, which gives me twenty remedies for female hysteria.  I am tempted to keep listing the marvels that populate my bookshelves, but I'm on a mission here.  Does anybody want an iLamp, a seven pound Walkman, or a Tandy Stereo Mate? 

By Alec Soth

We are so excited!

Birchbark bookseller and extraordinary choreographer, dancer, director, writer, etc  Emily Johnson graces the cover of the 2010 edition of the City Pages Artists of the Year. Emily says she is flattered and honored to be selected alongside such locally and internationally recognized artists as Marina Abramovic, Ryan Olson, M.I.A., Alec Soth, Robyn, and Banksy. Alec Soth, world-renown photographer whose work was recently featured at the Walker Art Center, took the cover photo. Emily's latest work, The Thank-you Bar (recently performed at the Northrop Auditorium in Minneapolis) has been receiving the acclaim of audiences and critics alike. Emily is of Native Alaskan (Yup'ik) descent, which richly informs her creative work.

Find out all about Emily by visiting her website at catalystdance.com.

Have a look at her Press page to read about her selection as a City Pages Artist of the Year, her experience shooting with Alec Soth, and to see some of the alternate cover images.

Check out the Productions page to see video excerpts of The Thank-you Bar, her current work-in-progress Niicugni, and her many previous works (don't miss the video Wingspan 5' 2").

See the Catalyst Presents and Collaborations pages to find out about Emily's collaborations with painter Carolyn Lee Anderson (also a Birchbark Staffer!) and the musical duo BLACKFISH.

Finally, make sure you visit Emily's Facebook page, where you will quickly decide that you Like her. 

Congratulations, Emily! We are so proud of you!