…which wasn’t quite as eventful a year as The Year in Baltar’s Hair, but was nonetheless a similar type of longish stretch that went by weirdly fast. Anyway, the first two images are two versions of a postcard I made at Penland last summer. The second image is a drawing of some signage that I did for some reason I can’t 100% remember now…probably thinking about how postcards could look if and when I ever got around to carving any. Which I hope to do again in a little while.
Several days after posting this stuff, it occurred to me it might be slightly mysterious how these cards were made. Not on purpose mysterious, but I get it it’s hard to tell what’s going on, sometimes. So, I just started by printing a Sandragraph made from scraps of bookbinding thread and the roughest possible muslin. I first ran it in various colors with the block turned one way, then went over that run again with the block turned the other way. From there it’s just a plain old reduction lino…or, actually, there’s a different lino block in-between the Sandragraphs and the reduction. Basically, whatever I had on hand during my time at Penland, that’s what I threw in the press bed. “Threw” being the wrong word, of course. Carefully very gently placed in the bed is what I mean, on account of how the last time anyone made a brand new Vandercook was way back in the mid-Seventies, a time I remember pretty well, but which you might consider about as prehistoric as Dickensian London. Anyway, the words are words I heard people say around campus and in Spruce Pine, when we went over there for pizza at the best and most amazing pizza restaurant in the whole of human history. Because I cannot come up with my own words, apparently, although I’m trying my butt off to learn how to do that instead of stealing them from random passers-by.