ink: tree with color

Monotype. 13 x 6.5 on BFK.

A morning at the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge turned into an afternoon of printmaking.

At the Refuge, I love the natural, beautiful, slow decay of the older trees. Over time, they become "nurse trees" for younger seedlings. This tree was a shell of dry bark holding the shape while the inside was wet and rotting and stunning.

I cannot help but think about my father (who is on my mind a lot these days). His dementia has left him a shell of his former self and now disease is causing further decay on the inside places.

It comforts me to see the tree and think of my father. Life is short. And beautiful. Stunning at the end.

inky step: cloudscape

Cloudscape.Monotype. 12 x 12

A print studio has a unique atmosphere. Artists stand at various tables, applying and removing ink from plates. The sound of brayers rolling through buttery ink is in the air, along with the smells of the oil-based ink and modifiers. Now and again you can hear the sound of the press bed moving between rollers, the sound of the turning crank, the sound of the lift as the print is pulled. Not many people are talking. We may be a group, but we are obviously individuals, each person follows the siren songs only s/he can hear.

I wanted to play with the idea of edges in this print. What happens at the edge where land and sky meet? How can I describe the soft edges where sky and clouds meet? How can I hold interest when more edges are soft than hard?

You see the result. Ink on. Ink wiped off. More ink on. Ink manipulated with rags and hands and paper. More ink on. Print pulled after it goes through the press.

The final result reminds me of Satie. Space to think and wonder with an undertone of melancholy.

Erik Satie "Gnossienne No.3" transcribed for guitar by Thomas Konigs.

inky steps

Landscape Monotype, 12 x 12 on BFK

Where do you go to find your way back to inspiration?

My path includes a five day workshop with Bill Park in his Portland studio. It was a perfect time with a small group of artists, two presses, lots of ink and plenty of time to explore this art form.

Over and over, I heard Bill say, "I want to encourage you to ..." He said something different to each of us, but I listened to those gentle words and I felt lifted above stumbling blocks of my own imagining. Lifted and pulled along to my own art making places.



Bob Dylan "Things Have Changed."