A cheap and cheerful book about being lost done a few years back, but came to my attention the other day when I realized why I had produced this piece.
A play around with a few forms of type, a waist of time on the photocopy machine and loosing ink from my printer, I had came up with a book about my lost senses since my arrival to the capital, London.
I wanted to show how a playful attitude (enlarging, resizing and photocopying over and over) with machinery such as a photocopy machine can produce nice effects. The worn out letter forms and the ink marks make the piece settle well within it self. And could be explained in such that it portrays my thoughts being weirdly assembled at the time.
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