They formed a bond, and you can also imagine. The large volume sharing it's thoughts on strange times in history and a hippie-with-a-phd 's view on the puritans to the prostitutes of the gold rush, along with pictures and poetry. And the girl in turn painted and drew and cut and glittered and glued her heart all over it's pages.
Here are links to other posts I've featured it in. 1, 2, 3, 4, I would have thought there were more, but apparently not! :)
I remember at the beginning, when I started simply because I NEEDED to, thinking I wouldn't finish it. It was just too big and clumsy, and good grief how would I ever have enough ideas for all of those pages! But you know, after the first twenty pages, which time-wise was maybe a year or more, those thoughts never crossed my mind again. It was just something that happened. I never knew when I would do another spread, sometimes I'd do one a day for a week, other times it would be months in between. I never planned ahead, it's probably the most organic thing I've ever made. Each page just forming under whatever medium felt right in my hand at the time.
By the middle I'd look through the blank bit with deep curiosity of what would come next, what would fill them, both in color and heart. As with any ending of something that holds weight in your soul, it comes with a feeling of loss. But I cannot deny (nor would I want to) the irrepressible excitement for whatever might be next.