This 81 year-old, 3,000 page dictionary is so heavy that it requires its own stand. It originally belonged to my wife's family, and was an essential reference resource until the computer rendered it archaic more than twenty five years ago. It still graces our living room, a fascinating, if bulky, nostalgic relic of another time. It even offers alphabetical tabs, cut into the side of its pages, allowing us to physically navigate its labyrinth of detail. I made this image to celebrate such detail by focusing my lens as close as I could on the edge of a single page. I tilted the frame, creating an energetic diagonal running from corner to corner. In doing so, I create a composition of opposing triangles. The lower triangle is filled with a chunk of the dictionary's gilded page edges. Five alphabetical tabs appear at the bottom of five semi-circular channels carved into those page edges, The upper triangle embraces the wide white margin of but one page, as well a fragmented portion of ten or so of its dictionary entries. In making this image, I abstract this massive volume down to an essence -- revealing details that merely hint at its vast scale. In the process of abstraction, I show less, and end up by saying more.