Withdrawn

The librarian's "Withdrawn" or "Discarded" stamp is like a silent slap across the face. A once loved volume is ostracized from its family home. Fortunately, books have many lives and move from one home to another, carrying the baggage of their former selves - inscriptions, stains, notes, and other marks. Photographing withdrawn library books is one way to depict time's relentless push forward and consider the institutions that change or fade as technology evolves. Some of these discarded books were rejected as no longer relevant, others were battered beyond use,or contain inaccurate information. Libraries are often "weeded" to make room for new materials. As society completes its move to a digital world, these small acts of personalization and artifacts of aging are harder to find. A handwritten dedication can convey sentiment to those who stumble across the volume long after the book's original recipient has passed on.

Though technology is necessary, it can also fundamentally change an important, everyday activity like reading. Books bear the marks of time's passing in a way that electronic devices cannot. The books in this series were removed from a variety of county and city public library systems, schools, churches, and universities. While working with these books, my head filled with narratives, not the tales put forth by their authors, but the stories of the book owners. I was struck by a child's angry "impossible!" scribbled in response to the gift of a ponderous religious tome. What librarian so disliked a Dominick Dunne novel that she pummeled the book with numerous Withdrawn stamps? And how does a family giveaway grandmother's golden anniversary gift? Though I will never know the answers, I can imagine my own stories from the clues left behind.