Well, who can resist a whole exchange of skull-related prints? Not me! And, as often happens, an image immediately popped into my head. I would do a print of a balloon!

For extra fun, I decided to do a reduction print. The clever part was using two different colors in the first run through the press, since the horizon line makes a handy demarcation line. Here’s the print, with the green/blue layer.

Today, I finished printing the second pass, being the black layer. Here is my inking station. And yes, that is a phone book. Phone books make the best inking pads. If you have any extra, let me know.

The hard part today was lining up the black layer with the green/blue layer. I had used a template when running the first layer through the press, which would have ensured that the paper and block would line up on the second pass. Alas! I was clumsy, and dropped an inky block smack dab face down onto the template, rendering it unusable until the ink dries. And, procrastinator that I am, there is no such leeway in my timing. The prints are due in Chicago by June 1. So, I used the tried-and-true eyeball and steady hand method to line the layers up.

Success!

I am calling this print Les Montgolfiers, after the Montgolfier brothers, inventors of the hot air balloon. And, appropriately enough, I have learned that their family business was making paper. Today, the Montgolfier Paper Company is known as Canson, maker of BFK Rives, the paper on which this is printed.

Here are the prints drying in the garage, ready for takeoff!

I also liked how the snow became a blank canvas for these figures. Without knowing the context of the story, they could be anyone, anywhere, plucked out of context.

(This particular photo is from the 1914 Newfoundland Sealing Disaster.)

I decided to take a variety of these figures and make linoleum blocks from them. And then, rather than use the white canvas of the snow, I decided to create a whole series of ambiguous landscapes for them. Since these prints begin with images I found of Arctic explorers, and since they are experimental for me, I refer to them as my Explorations prints.

At first, I kept them in the context of a sort of imaginary Arctic, made by creating a series of monoprint backgrounds.

Then the space they inhabited became more abstract.

There is something going on, but what?

I experimented with different inks, line weights, and ways of making marks.

And I began putting them in spaces that weren’t at all arctic-like.

And back again, with more experiments in mark-making.

Now I’m taking this same concept and applying it to my prints about my pilgrimage last spring on the Via de la Plata in Spain. Except now, the figures are pilgrims, storks, saints’ day processions, sheep, and carved figures from the churches and other buildings along the way. And besides monoprints, the backgrounds are also photo transfers, solarplate etchings, and lithographs. Whoa! That’s crazy! Well, yes, in the best sort of way.

Stay tuned to see what comes out of it all…

My current speed bump concerns my print of Moby Dick breaching. It all began when I ordered the linoleum for the pair of prints, of which the breach is one. I wanted to use a specific type of linoleum, and found some of the right type and size online. Imagine my dismay when the wrong blocks arrived! It turns out the link on the supplier’s website pointed to a different linoleum than that described. (Silver lining to this story: the customer service rep to whom I complained followed up and discovered this bad link, and had the company fix it; and I got my money refunded.)

Well, since I had this block, I decided to use it anyway. Bad idea. The piece of linoleum is not very robust. The core is crumbly, and in order to clean up the crumbs that erupt when carving I have carved almost all the way down to the canvas backing. Here you can see the crumbling linoleum.

And the edges of the block are seriously degraded after only two test prints.

So now I get to start the block all over again. I really like how the first try was coming along, so I will use the magic of printmaking to transfer the image to a new block. How? I’ll ink the first one, run a print, and then take the still-wet print and run it through the press onto a new block. Each run through the press reverses the image, so two reverses will put the image onto the block in the direction it needs to be. It’s kind of like those double negatives your English teachers used to warn you about. (And this thinking back-and-forth is one of the things I love about printmaking; it’s like a giant puzzle!)

In the meantime, progress is still being made in other areas.

While rummaging about in the midden pile that surrounds my desk, I discovered a partially carved block that I had put aside months ago due to lack of insight as to how to proceed. I took one look at it, and saw immediately what my next steps in carving should be. A morning of carving, a test print, some corrections, and I’m ready to run with my Paul Bunyan print, the first of what I hope to be a set of American myths and folk tales. Photo to follow once the ink has dried!

And yesterday I began carving my skeletons in a balloon print for the La Calaca International Print Exchange. (Follow the link for some fabulous prints; I’m very much looking forward to getting a set of 15 of these.) I’m thinking this will be a 3-color print, with blue for the sky and mountains, green for the fields, and black outlines to define it all.

Linoleum block workshop!
Have you always wanted to learn how to do linoleum block printing? Have vague memories of elementary school arts & crafts, but suspect there’s more to it than that? Here’s your chance to learn more!

I’m leading a weekend workshop on linoleum block printing, May 12 & 13, at Michael Angelo Studios here in Santa Cruz. Click here to learn more and sign up. Hurry; class size is limited to 10.

I’ve been slowly making adjustments to my first Moby Dick print, enlarging the figures in Ahab’s boat, taking down some of the texture in Moby Dick’s skin, and adding more highlights to the water. Here’s the latest proof:

Part of the inspiration for this print is the chapter where Ahab speaks to his crew about his true purpose, the hunting down of Moby Dick, and draws them into his mad passion.

All visible objects, men, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event — in the living act, the undoubted deed — there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there’s naught beyond. But ’tis enough. He tasks me; he heaps me; I see in him outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it. That inscrutable thing is chiefly what I hate; and be the white whale agent, or be the white whale principal, I will wreak that hate upon him.

I wanted to show Moby Dick as that wall, huge, intimidating, and yet not that malicious agent of evil Ahab believes him to be; rather, he is the blank screen upon which Ahab projects his anger.

And in the meantime, I’ve also charged ahead on my second Moby Dick print: Moby Dick breaching.

On the second day of the final hunt, the Pequod’s whaleboats see Moby Dick ahead of them:

And thus, through the serene tranquilities of the tropical sea, among waves whose hand-clappings were suspended by exceeding rapture, Moby Dick moved on… But soon the fore part of him rose slowly from the water; for an instant his whole marbleized body formed a high arch… and warningly waving his bannered flukes in the air, the great god revealed himself, sounded, and went out of sight.

The boats wait for Moby Dick to reveal himself again.

…Ahab could discover no sign in the sea. But suddenly as he peered down and down into its depths, he profoundly saw a white living spot no bigger than a white weasel, with wonderful celerity uprising, and magnifying as it rose, till it turned, and then there were plainly revealed two long crooked rows of white, glistening teeth, floating up from the undiscoverable bottom. It was Moby Dick’s open mouth and scrolled jaw; his vast, shadowed bulk still blending with the blue of the sea…

It’s difficult to convey the excitement of this chapter by selecting quotes; it’s a fast-paced tour de force of language and action, with words rolling and flashing like the very waves tossed by the breaching whale.

There are two more prints to come in this set. Stay tuned! And in the meantime, I’d suggest you read the book. It is the best. Ever.

This time, the trip was just down the road about a mile, to yesterday’s Poetry Festival Santa Cruz, ably organized by my friend Daniel Yaryan of Sparring with Beatnik Ghosts fame. Daniel asked me almost a year ago to come up with a design for the festival logo. I believe I’ve posted it before, but just to refresh your memory, here it is:

Forty poets performed their work in the ballroom at the Cocoanut Grove down at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, while next door in the concourse were booths showcasing books by local small presses, poetry-related memorabilia, and art. That’s where I come in.

Here I am in my hipster hat at my booth.

Not too shabby a view.

The Festival ran from 3pm until around 9pm. Here it’s beginning to get busy.

Most of my time was spent taking care of my table (with the excellent assistance of Sarah-Hope), but once or twice I was able to duck into the main ballroom to hear some of the poets perform. Here is Ellyn Maybe and her band.

A good time was had by all, and we’re hoping for another festival next year.

Now back to work… it’s a cold and rainy day here in Santa Cruz. When it’s cold, I move my workspace into the kitchen. It’s easy to turn a stovetop into a tabletop! Just be careful not to get ink on your vegetables.

Stay tuned to see what I’m cooking up next!

The show was sponsored by the Central Coast Printmakers, and the juror was the artist Sandow Birk. I am very fortunate to have two pieces in the show. The first is Hopscotch:

The second is called Freedom, and I am doubly fortunate in that this work was chosen to appear on the show’s postcard. How exciting is that???

Mr. Birk spoke before the reception, talking about his jurying process.

Then the crowd dispersed into the galleries to see the show.

Traces, Marks and Fragments will be on display at the San Luis Obispo Museum of Art through February 26.

Here are four examples of my holiday – new year’s card. I had fun playing with color on these – different color rings, different color backgrounds, highlighting the figure with ink, and so on. It was all about play, and I hope that’s a theme that will continue throughout the year, as I try new images and new techniques.

I hope it’s a theme for my readers’ new year as well. May you all have the time and opportunity to seriously play in 2012.

A friend recently asked about this image, and what was my thinking behind it. There are many answers to that question; as I carve and print I usually keep thinking about and finding new ways of looking at my own work. But it all began here:

This is a photo from my pilgrimage on the Camino Frances in 2006. We were leaving Murias de Rechivaldo, just past Astorga, early in the morning after a night of thunderstorms. A beautiful double rainbow graced the sky, and kept growing, changing, and developing over an extraordinary length of time.

I was walking with a French pilgrim, and he exclaimed: “The Camino! So wonderful! Every day, there is a miracle!”

Being the contrarian that I am, I immediately thought to myself, “Ha! Spain is not magic!” (That was my literal thought; I still remember it.)

What I meant, and mean, is this: There are miracles every day no matter where you are. We notice them on the Camino, or in any special event, because we are looking out for them. The trick –and the hard part– is to keep looking for them in our everyday lives.

Let’s all look for the wonder in 2012.

I’ve been back from Spain for six months now, and because of the excitement of the arrival of my new etching press, followed by various festivals and Open Studios, I’m only now really thinking about and processing my pilgrimage.

So here, finally, in sequential order, are the postcards I drew. I am afraid the lighting conditions were not always ideal when I took the pictures of the postcards; I’ve done my best to restore the correct color as much as possible.

Seville: the first waymark, at the cathedral

Seville: a courtyard in the Alcázar

Seville: the Giralda

Seville: the Macarena

My process often looked like this. A sidewalk cafe and a glass of wine are an aid to inspiration!

Italica: mosaic from the Roman ruins

Guillena: church

Just past Guillena: tower in the midst of fields, early morning

Castilblanco de los Arroyos: view of the town from the albergue

Monesterio: I felt the town needed a new stamp for the pilgrim credencial that would reflect the town’s status as the jamon capital of the world (or so it claims).

Real de la Jara: view of the town from the castle. I accidentally left this postcard behind on my bunk when I left the albergue in the morning, and I assumed it was lost. I was very pleased to learn that its intended recipient did indeed receive it, thanks to the good samaritan who found and mailed it.

Villafranca de los Barros: this church was diagonally across from the pension

Torremejia: Roman statues used in the wall as building material

Mérida: remains of the Roman aqueduct, Acueducto de los Milagros

Aljucen: street scene

Alcuescar: odd character carved next to the church door

Alcuescar: statue “La Misericordia” in the monestery, seen from the side

Roman bridge, between Alcuescar and Caceres

Cáceres: couple on a bench in the plaza mayor, with the walls of the old city behind them

Cáceres: bust of a woman on a building wall in the old city

Casar de Cáceres: storks on the church roof; there were dozens of them

Casar de Cáceres: the waterspouts around the roof of the church were quite entertaining

Carcaboso: houses

Mailing a batch of postcards!

Oliva de Plasencia: cat on a stone bench

Caparra: the Roman arch. The Via de la Plata goes right through the arch

Pico de la Dueña: the highest point on the route, with windmills and a cross of Santiago

This marks the end of what I actually walked; I finished walking in Salamanca. I took a bus to Zamora and spent two days exploring that city, where I drew my final postcards.

Mailing postcards in Salamanca:

Zamora: church on the plaza mayor, opposite my pension

Zamora: statue of penitents

Zamora: a suit of armor as a weathervane atop church tower

Zamora: a very operatic-looking statue of Mary Magdalen

Not surprisingly, people are fed up, on all sides of the political spectrum.

My latest print is titled We Voted for Change.

We Voted for Change
Linoleum block print on Rives BFK paper
Edition of 30

Shameless commerce department:
Buy an original copy of this print at Etsy.
Or buy t-shirts, stickers, bags, and postcards featuring this print, at Cafe Press.