A Booksmith Journal

As many youngsters in their early 20 -or earlier, I thought several times about having a business of my own. Not so much financially driven, more likely a desire to have a place to achieve independence and work in my beloved projects. Unlike most, not a bar. More like a combination of cultural centre, café porteño, bookstore and workshop. Pretty vague. Since it's opening in 2012 I worked at a small boutique pizza joint. Corrientes is a beautiful restaurant in the historical exchange district of Winnipeg. Unconsciously, some part of me leaked into this project. A sixty-seat restaurant that manages to have a cozy coffee area at the back with a couple of bookshelves that pretend to reflect the literary aspect of the avenue. And of my life too. For some reason I don't want to understand, I don't read as much anymore. Travelling and living abroad brings a sum of complications that push against the habit. Plus, I've been very lazy lately. A joint argentinean-canadaian

I don't wanna go out  and I won't stay in get things done. Kevin Johansen? or David Bowie? Often I hear this voice inside of me asking me about my passion. Well, everyone knows that a passion nowadays is something you do and you really, really like doing it. Work on it, spend endless hours without noticing because you enjoy that and there's some sort of hidden source of stamina that makes that possible. It doesn't make him or her a robot, but they could turn very persistent. And when you see them you feel inspired by they energy and vision. I often see this people and their achievements while browsing social networks, on those rare and occasional high school reunion or similar. I have some disturbing thoughts about that. The same reason as many: is not that easy for us to find our true Passion (note the capital letter). It ain't a minor detail. Seems that most of the people have that crucial first step figured out and they are moving on to the fol

Toronto is a lovely city. I feel that I haven't enjoyed it enough. To walk on King st. or Spadina, to browse the stores or walk around at the Kensington market. Type is a small bookstore and an example of the beauty of the city. http://typebooks.ca/ I was pretty sure that the sentence in the cover was "There is nothing  quiet  in a real book". Oh, well... ------------------------- Boring Thoughts About Me (BTAM) (This is the very first of a new section in this blog) It is for me a very strange feeling every time I'm in Toronto. Two years ago, we landed with nothing but bags. No idea of where to spend the night, or how to get a cab, a job, a beer, or even if to stay or move to another city. El turista nunca sabe a dónde estuvo; el viajero nunca sabe adónde va*. It's hard to get a grasp on such a rich city, when you are overwhelmed by your own emotions. The two months we lived in Toronto we stayed in several places and meet so

And finally you found a purpose for those magnets you bought... Eduardo Tarico and Sol Rébora are probably two of the most internationally acclaimed bookbinders from Argentina. With different backgrounds and training, both were gifted with creativity and a neat technique. I wrote about them back in the days, and this time I decided to do it in english to give a chance to some   anglo friends to know them. These two pieces were selected on the Designer Bookbinders International Bookbinding competition 2013. Eduardo Tarrico Romeo and Juliet , by Sol Rebora Links: You can find here the whole list of   Prize Winning Binders Eduardo Tarico's website:  http://www.eduardotarrico.com/en/index.php Sol Rebora's website:  http://www.estudiorebora.com.ar  (spanish)

Entre pedazos de palabras y caricias en ruinas, encontré algunas formas que volvían de la muerte. Venían de desmorir. Pero no les bastaba con eso. Tenían que seguir retrocediendo, tenían que desvivirlo todo y después desnacer. No pude hacerles ninguna pregunta, ni mirarlas dos veces. Pero ellas me indicaron el único camino que tal vez tenga salida, el que vuelve desde toda muerte hacia atrás del nacer, a encontrarse con la nada del comienzo para retrocederse y desnadarse. Roberto Juarróz, Poesía Vertical Este blog comenzó con el objetivo de compartir mis experiencias en el mundo de la encuadernación y alguna que otra apreciación acerca de la literatura, libros y afines. Pero dos años atrás decidí emprenderme en un viaje que resultó ser más permanente de lo pensado. Mis prensas, cizalla, mis libros (!), es decir, mi taller y mi biblioteca quedaban en Buenos Aires y el autor desprovisto empezó a incursionar en alternativas para mantener su

(De cómo llegué a la crisis en la que actualmente me encuentro. Ejercicio de catársis autobiográfica no recomendado para su lectura por terceros. Parte uno) Creo que no te quiero,  que solamente quiero la imposibilidad  tan obvia de quererte  como la mano izquierda  enamorada de ese guante  que vive en la derecha.  Julio Cortazar, Otros cinco poemas para Cris   El primer libro "serio" que leí me lo regaló mi viejo. Tenía unos 12 años y un día llegó con un ejemplar de editorial sudamericana de "El cazador oculto" de Salinger (conocido mejor como El guardián entre el centeno o The catcher in the rye). Fue mi primera novela de hombre grande, y por supuesto que me impactó profundamente. No solo por el libro y la conveniente edad a la que lo estaba leyendo, también porque me lo había regalado mi viejo que nunca lo tuve como un tipo lector. Es decir, desde que nací que mi viejo no leé y me había regalado aquel libro fenomenal (lamentablemente como