This photo album cover, of the Gajoweg construction, uses a subdued, almost industrial, palette. The maker, whoever they were, was interested in the craft of bookbinding as much as they were in the photography of road-building. There's a materiality to this object that's so appealing; the tactile quality of the cover begs to be touched, doesn't it? The surface is not quite smooth, not quite rough, but something in between. The cover is a kind of bluey, gray-green, like old denim. A thin gold line travels vertically down the left side. In the bottom right-hand corner, two parallel lines run diagonally. This design reminds me of a Barnett Newman painting, but the colors are muted, the edges soft, and the scale is intimate. That anonymous maker of this album understood something essential about art-making: that it's a process, an act of discovery, not just a means to an end. Much like Ed Ruscha's artist books, this album cover elevates the everyday into something quietly profound.