I proofed the teeth plate yesterday.

This photo hides it, but I have a lot of burrs to pick out (I engraved too deeply and then got lazy about removing the burrs).

At first I wasn’t wild about it because it’s not soft anymore. But now it’s rich! Rich, rich black.

In other news, the kids at work yesterday made paper fortune tellers, and I kept getting “you are rich” (and, temporally interestingly enough, “you will marry an old lady” – thanks, Supreme Court!). I am rich! Still experiencing abundance. I got to play outside and swim in rivers this weekend with my honey, so I am feeling relaxed and thankful. And rich.





I’m returning to line for a minute by making an engraving. Alyssa talked to us yesterday about doing things without attachment, for the experience of doing them, and I am feeling that right now. I started this plate a long, long while ago from scrap zinc so it’s nice to have an approach of detachment and play.

I ate a whole lotta watermelon this morning and it feels like summer.

In other news, check out this beautiful flower that bloomed the other day in the garden I’m watching these next couple months.





This intaglio has been sitting idle for a while. I really like the idea of the image, but its execution wasn’t the best; there’s nothing worse than a gray intaglio.

Possible resolution? Radical transformation! I’m engraving the hell out of it. That’s one way to rich black, I guess.

In other news, my scraper and burnisher look like hot dogs in this photo. And this week we started wheel throwing in ceramics. It is incredibly challenging and fun all at the same time; I’m really enamored with the whole process of ceramics.



The Lost and Found Books (Part II)

Aha, finally!  Here are select photos of my newest project, the Lost and Found Books.

I think the pseudo-collophan (how do you spell that word?) explains it pretty well:

This book, an homage to what is lost and what is found and what that says about us, includes hand-set letterpress type, the silliest dingbats found in Case 27, etchings and engravings of both known and ambiguous origin, Xerox transfers from an old project, a print of a circuit board that Jake Hintze messed up on, and one lonely relief print from a block acquired at the gem show.

Remember that what is lost is often found.

This edition(ish) of artist books focuses on the many meanings of Lost and Found, because it is through the discarded, reclaimed and sought out that our values are implicitly communicated.  Like any other Lost and Found, I made these books without much of a plan.  I filled the pages as I went with found stories and images to create my own little Lost and Found in book form.  The final step is to lose the books (after, of course, the Letterpress show at the end of the month), returning them to the larger Lost and Found that the content originally came from.

(Can you tell that last bit is my artist statement?  It’s all formal-like and a little stuffy.  Maybe I’ll start making artist statements less stuffy and more delightful and more blog-like.  But still intellectual.  This sounds hard, but I will try.)

The Lost and Found Books (Part II)