I borrowed a book– Eva Hesse, by Lucy R. Lippard from the library of University of Leeds, which is the edition of 1992 and the first edition was published in 1976. I was doing some research about other artists I admired. Initially I just borrowed it from the library in order to read about Eva Hesse. I wanted to understand more deeply Eva Hesse’s context and works. I tried to read the essay in the book but while touching the paper material I could not help being attracted by the book itself. It is an object for me and at that moment it has been beyond a function of being a book. From my observation, the book has been read and used many times year by year. There is a sort of time rambling onto the book with silent speed. The pages have turned to a sort of light yellow, the edge of the cover is broken and the body of the grey printed cover has been much softened and the surface has been partially scratched by former readers. The shape of the book is no longer symmetrical as a result of an invisible movement of every reader thumbing the book. The cover has lost a section; there is a trace of folding. Fibers of papers have appeared on the edges of every page by being rubbed, which infers the trace of repeat touching. Readers’ fingers have slowly sculpted the right sides of the pages as a section of wave or hill. This man-made object is no longer one piece of the original publication or book–product because it has been gradually changed, re-shaped, individualised in time and space. It has been a unique continuously changing soft sculpture. The same book will be in other libraries but the physical condition of the book will be different from this one in University of Leeds Library. With the fusion of time, space and movement, the old paper book has been transformed into a unique being in the world, and it is still gradually transforming on my desk. During this endless transformation, I represent a small section of the movement and change from the day I borrowed the book to the day I put it back in the return box. There are various sections of movement overlapping in the book. My fingers touch what former readers’ fingers touched. Reviewing the list of readers and the trace of different users, I know I am not alone within the field of fine art. I started to image how other “Eva Hesse / Lucy R. Lippard” might look like in other libraries. I have become one of sculptors who have contributed to the soft sculpture. Filming the process of my period of being one of sculptors records/represents the unique period of the specific soft sculpture. Through the photographical seeing/thinking, a book is not only digitalised from the organic to the virtual, archived from paper book to digital short film but also sculptured from a mechanical duplex production to artistic unique creation. The book originally was one of the publication of “Eva Hesse / Lucy R. Lippard” created from a press. When the edition was printed and bound, they must have looked quite similar, almost the same. They were the product of mechanical reproduction but now they are individual objects by numerous readers’ touching. Every book is a sculpture, every reader is a sculptor. The sculptures and sculptors will eventually disappear on the world one day but the digital artistic archive/artwork will reserve its traces with a ghostly form in a virtual dimension.