Happiness is... first ink on fresh paper. All images slightly embiggenable with a click. |
Well. It's been a while since ol' Brush and Baren has seen much action. 2023 was a challenging year for me in a lot of ways and my good intentions weren't enough to balance the energy scales.
2024 is off to a better start, and I'm determined to move forward in all kinds of good ways. The first of those has been getting a linocut started. Finally.
So let's get... rolling!
Linocut in progress: Step 1 rollup |
Despite all my efforts to come up with a composition that wasn't long and skinny, here I am, working on something long and skinny. I actually love this format, but it can be a tricky one for people to find place for on their walls. And let's face it, I do have to think about those sorts of things. Ah, well! Long and skinny it is. And a very pale blue to start because, let's face that, too... it's almost always the case.
I need to say something about ink, however, especially since it was part of my difficult 2023. Longtime readers might notice that for a first color, the rollout above seems remarkably opaque.
For decades I have worked my prints similarly to watercolors... by layering very transparent colors to create a number of effects. I did this by using boatloads of transparent (non-pigmented) ink with just a smidge of pigmented ink mixed in.
During the peak of the pandemic I couldn't get the brand of transparent base that I usually use, so I bought a different one. I've used other brands before, no problem... so I carried on as usual. What I didn't realize was that the formulation of this "new" base was significantly different from those I had used previously. Using high quantities of it turned out to be a bad idea, but I wasn't to discover this until months later.
It turns out that the new-to-me brand contains linseed oil which, when stored in the dark (such as in a flat file, as all my pieces are) undergoes a chromatic shift. Which is a fancy way of saying all the prints turn yellow. Think of old oil paintings, which were often varnished with linseed oil.
So, yes. Entire editions of work... basically everything I did last year, and a couple of pieces from the year before that, have discolored. Oddly, the color will eventually change back when exposed to light... but that's pretty much the antithesis of the usual thought about preserving work. I put UV-blocking glass on my work, and I've noticed that one of the pieces in question from last year, which is also on the least-light wall of my sitting room, has discolored under the glass, even though it was never stored in the drawer. Sigh.
I've pulled the questionable images from circulation... luckily I hadn't exhibited any of the really horribly affected ones from last year, so none went out into the world. But it was a demoralizing blow, to be sure.
Which is a lot of words to say I am learning to work a new way... learning to balance the use of white ink with transparent base. Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?
Reduction linocut in progress: Step 1 printed |
So, blah blah blah INK blah blah blah. Here's the first step printed. A nice pale blue. Interestingly, I found it easier to get an even tone with a little bit more opacity to the ink. Lots of transparent base was always a challenge to get applied evenly on the block.
Step 2 rollup |
Again, I was pleased with how nicely the ink was rolling out. Technical problems when I was already feeling wobbly about working would have been no fun at all.
Step 2 printed |
I bet that birder-types will already recognize the species here!
Things are moving right along. Time for a definite gray, rather than blue.
Step 3 rollup |
And, voila! It's official. I am back to work.
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