Full Immersion

An only art edition + meditation on commitment issues

Finally that itch in my brain has been satisfied by the sound of the brayer meeting the thin layer of ink on a glass plate. In my eagerness to print, I had forgotten to tape down the plate and precision mat. Another step missed — cutting my paper before I had a carving block covered in quickly drying ink. What colors exactly I wanted to use, the vision for these prints — I didn’t know. I was operating on instinct (and a grapefruit gin and tonic).

Months after art class, I have just now secured all of the materials to ink editions at home. I hadn’t abandoned the art. I’ve been carving and making prints using stamp ink, you’ve seen some of them actually. But I had yet to buy the brayers, inks, base extender, glass plates, and baron. It sounds simple enough seeing it typed out like that, sure. Just a few bits and bobs.

Tell that to the dining room table.

the little mess I made

Maybe the full immersion into block printing, post-art class, frightens me a little. As much as I was aching to dive in, it took me months to venture deeper than the shallow end. The whole wonderful, chaotic production of block printing is hard to shove back into the box once it’s been opened. And I’m not making art to sell. There’s no Etsy shop in my name or farmer’s market stall you’ll catch me at. It’s a personal, creative pursuit. The sort of thing I can easily convince myself I don’t have the time or finances or imaginative reservoir for.

I may have some degree of commitment issues when it comes to my hobbies. Let’s call it a beginner’s hesitation.

blocks I inked in red and purple: laceleaf bouquet, 98℉, and quilting stars