This lush and lurid unique book was created with the vintage original artwork and copy masters used to print Nervous System, an Organik limited edition book printed with Fiery color copy machines in a hardcover edition of 9 and a softcover edition of 13, published in 2000, 2001 and 2002.

The pages are multi-media palimpsests that were over-printed, over-laid, and reprinted with relief press, letterpress, hand calligraphy, and black and white photocopy machine runs, The combinations of gestural, fastidious, illuminated, and miniature calligraphy integrated into traditional printing media and (now) obsolete analog machine copiers make for a unique texture and feel on every page.

“The Nervous System smells of ink and sweat sweet and sour electricity. Lush dense compositions explore the interconnectedness of dendritic nerve form, fractal equations, plant structure, letterform, and the cognitive processes of human imagination. Catalyzed by Weber seeing the pattern of his then young sleeping daughter’s hair upon her pillow matching the pattern of her akimbo arms and legs, Weber’s poem of the same title parallels the aesthetic and composition of the book, the poem is fragmented and reiterated thought the book and explores the ubiquitous interconnectivity of dendritic form.” — Karen Eliot

Nervous System

I’m jittery
everything is wrong
my body is so sensitive
six miles of burning skin
deep under the water of falling screams
everything is slow and unspeakable
the body is obliterated
talking about my emotions makes me sleepy

the scratching of this pen across rough paper
is making me furious
it’s a shallow rage
like killing a bug

she sleeps buried in her beauty
dreaming baby animals’ dreams
Her cascading hair spreads
like moonbeams on a soft pillow
tracing the roots of the tree
whose branches and leaves shadow
the lines on her face
and the veins in her hands
her fingers are still in poses
that reflect her body
arm and legs lightly contoured by the sheet
which seems to float a hairsbreadth above her skin
it’s draping reminding me of gentle calligraphy
with letter forms of coral and rivers
roadways and maps
a groundhogs dirt path through the woods
an orchids bloom
a child’s brushstroke
the convolutions of my brain
and the infinite mirroring
of dendrites, capillaries and the constellations
of the branching chandelier suspended above her
casting dim golden highlights
upon all these nervous systems.

— Marshall Weber, 1998