Papermaker's Journal

More Studio Pics

2011-04-01T16:59:00.000-04:00

Because we're geeks and love our new space:

The new mascot of the studio: Bent Tuba

Tracy's actually working on stuff

The make-shift kitchenette (and vacuum table)

Stu Stu Studio!

And Now the After...

2011-03-27T18:35:00.000-04:00

shots of the studio:

Tracy behind our $35 Library table

My side of the studio - quite messy

the vacuum table

reclaimed bookcase

It's Been A Long Cold Winter

2011-03-27T09:40:00.000-04:00

Actually, less cold than long - as it's been ages since I last posted here.

But, now we're thawing out & we're doing so in a new studio space! We lucked upon an old elementary school classroom, about 3-4 times the size of our previous space (aka the guest room). So we've been working getting all of our supplies and equipment moved over from the apartment and the storage locker (and after 4 weekends, we're almost done!).

Here are some pics of the space as it was before we moved in (I'll try to take some 'after' pics today):

Sketchbook Project

2010-10-24T09:31:00.000-04:00

Since I've not been posting a lot on this blog as of late, I thought I'd share one of the many other projects I've been working on, from my Life is a Series of Drawings blog. Currently I'm exploring the depths of the Sketchbook Project in my Dirigibles and Submersibles themed sketchbook. I have been posting my sketchbook pages as the sketches come into being.

Woob, Woob, Woob. Nyigh, Nyigh.

2010-10-24T09:18:00.000-04:00

As of late, life is suspiciously mimicking a Three Stooges routine in an unfortunate-series-of-events sort of way. First poked in the eye, then punched in the nose, and finally clobbered on the head, if not with a fist, then with a dead fish. To quote Larry, Moe, and Curly (&/or Shemp & Curly Joe) "woob, woob, woob. nyigh, nyigh."

My partner and I are readying ourselves (and our wares) for Holiday Market, but our interests have been splayed between that and 15 other (very important) ventures - none of which seem to be giving us much in the way of returns right now, which, while frustrating and stressful, is not foreign.

So, in a hand-to-the-nose eye-poke blocking move, I went in search of inspirational quotes that might fend off that final fish-to-the-head, at least for a minute: (nyigh, nyigh...)

The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes. Charles R. Swindoll

Laugh as much as you breathe and love as long as you live. Unknown

To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent. Buddha

Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life's coming attractions. Albert Einstein

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. Maya Angelou

Hey! I'm in Uppercase Magazine!

2010-09-20T10:31:00.000-04:00

Excitement and Juibilee! Or as my truer, geekier side would say, "squee!" Uppercase Magazine chose my Dullard book cover design to be included in their 7th issue. If you're interested and want a copy of the magazine, they're offering a 10% discount to friends and family. Simply enter the code "bookish" @ http://shop.uppercasegallery.ca when ordering.

Falling... Drawings of L.A.

2010-08-23T17:29:00.000-04:00

If you head over to the Life is a Series of Drawings blog, you can see some of the drawings for the L.A. picture book.

A Series of Seriously Abstracted Memoirs

2010-08-19T12:45:00.002-04:00

My first thought this morning, before my eyes were even open, was I need to find a photo polymer plate maker. (naturally, I mean who doesn't wake up thinking such things?) As if that wasn't striking enough, my second thought was, my memoir really needs to consist of a series of books. Then my brain starts listing off the titles. Annoying really, as I wasn't planning on waking up yet - or writing a memoir. But no, my brain insisted. so I got up and wrote the five titles down.

It occurs to me that this is, perhaps, strange? although maybe not so strange. I don't really know. I mean, how do other people's brains work, if not like mine?

I've had no designs on the memoir, other than making this book cover to submit to Uppercase Magazine. So the fact that my brain wakes me up with such a final decision as 'my memoir needs to consist of five books,' and 'here are the titles,' well that's a bit unnerving. I mean, who's driving this cart anyway, and how big is THAT ego to assume a memoir of THIS life would be warranted? seriously. Then again, how often do you awake with such clear instructions?

So, the titles? Well...

dullard, a loose connection of meaningful things
Shallow, Misconceptions of Depth at Art School
Falling into the Ocean, [not so] accurate memories of L.A. [a picture book]
Sponge [no subtitle forthcoming]
Manic, confessions of a pencil stub.

That's all I got - but apparently my brain has some work for me yet. At any rate, does anyone know where I can get a photo polymer plate maker? And while we're at it, can anyone tell me what a photo polymer plate maker is?

Thanks ever so,

.n

In the Studio

2010-08-16T12:26:00.000-04:00

So, a couple of weeks ago I was forwarded a call for entries for Uppercase Magazine to create a self portrait through book design. I've been working on several ideas, but the first is Dullard: a Memoir - taking the prompt quite literally, I created a self portrait in print, using linoleum blocks. I then scanned the image into photoshop to work up the rest of the cover (which is still in process).

Another idea is Bookish, for which I wanted to use scratch board to create an image of a book shelf in disarray. Problematic, as no one in my town seems to carry scratch board. In fact, no one seems to know what scratch board even is. I realize I've been out of graduate school for a few years now - but we used scratchboard like crazy to create quick, print-like designs. (Perhaps it was an anomaly).

Summer's Light Cover Design

2010-08-11T08:39:00.000-04:00

Mock up Cover

My latest project has been working on a book cover design for Summer's Light (a coming of age YA novel). Last week was spent creating a mock-up cover. It was one of those situations where I liked okay when it was on the computer screen, but as soon as it printed out I realized it was flat (and too dark). After playing with it on the computer for longer than my patience could endure, I decided to scrap the computer altogether and redo the design as a multi-drop lino-cut. Today I will be printing the last block (black).

I'm using butter block (ez cut, speedy cut, whatever you call it). It's a bit crumbly (even though it advertises that it isn't), so I have to use canned air to remove all the bits. This is my first time using this material (usually I just heat up linoleum). I have to say it's nice to work with, although I have to be much more careful with the block, as it has ripped under its own weight in a couple of spots. (Thanks be to the strapping power of duct tape).

In-process linoleum cut cover

I'm also using Speedball water based inks, although for longer print runs they do tend to dry out and get putty like, so I have to mix inks in batches and print quickly. Thankfully, it's a short run, since I really only need one good print for the cover. Since they clean up much more easily it's worth the effort of mixing multiple batches of ink.

Once printed, I will scan the cover in to do the typography.

From Pulp to Paper to Pulp Again

2010-08-10T12:53:00.000-04:00

In an effort to re-pulp this blog, I am redesigning it and starting anew. As the days (weeks) progress, I'll add new tabs at the top and flesh out the ones that I have there now. Since I already have a blog going about book collecting (see side bar), this blog will focus on the more creative side - printmaking, paper making, and book arts. I hope to have new posts up soon, so please do keep checking back.

Arts council to offer five weeklong art experiences in Potsdam

2010-08-09T18:50:00.000-04:00

Arts council to offer five weeklong art experiences in Potsdam

MacArthur Genius Grant Goes to a Paper maker

2009-09-23T11:22:00.001-04:00

http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2009/09/21/us/AP-US-Genius-Grants.html

Iraq, Paper, Scissors

2009-09-20T11:02:00.005-04:00

Gods, Fate, and Knowledge

2009-09-19T12:25:00.002-04:00

It is today, and once again, that you find yourself at the end of some wandering. Confronted, face to book spine, with shelves full of knowledge - paralyzed with the apparent "limited" selection. You are fully aware, that when broken down into time segments, there is far too much here to take in in one lifetime.

It is amassed, this knowledge, and in front of you, a hands reach away.

To this, you let destiny take the lead. Closing your eyes, taking two steps to either the right or left (being careful to avoid the ladder), reaching in front of you, thrusting your hand forward until your fingers stub on a spine. Opening your eyes, you survey what fate has brought you: "Modernism and Abstraction." You play with the book, pulling it out slightly, feeling guilty for (honestly) just wanting to put it back. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, you pull it out and flip through it before putting it back on the shelf.

Closing your eyes again, taking two more steps - to the left - and again thrusting your hand forward, stubbing your fingers with slight, excessive force this time (as if punishment for the lackluster interest in the previous offering), you open your eyes to "Hieronymus Bosch" and know that the Gods of fate are laughing at you.

Tomorrow your finger will surely be in a splint.
[01.04]

A Short Story

2009-09-18T10:58:00.000-04:00

If she had been in her own pants, she'd have had a pen. She could've written down the name, the number, the book that would've changed her life. But as it happens, it was her habit to be unfortunate - to mislay directions, to be late (only the once) when someone else had to step in to take her place and be discovered.

Bygones and bookmobiles

2009-09-17T10:21:00.007-04:00

Earlier this week, Tracy and I got into the car with the goal of finding the last standing Shell Station shaped like a shell (located in Winston-Salem, NC). Tracy had printed out a Google Map, trusting that Google, in all of its mathematical and geographical wisdom, would get us there in the most efficient way possible.

This time, however, the directions were filled with all sorts of crazy mazes and turns - not at all the route I would've planned for us - but we decided, as it was a day of adventure, to put our trust in Google and let it guide us. On the way, a mere two blocks from our house, we passed the Lake Jeanette Bookmobile. I was ready to stop then and there. My adventure just hit its climax. I had no idea that these creatures still existed. I wanted to get out and take pictures of this dinosaur, this throwback to an era of Marian the Librarian & pearl wearing housewives. There is just something about containing a library in something compact and mobile that fits with my aesthetic for all things self propelling/self feeding (Automat; Art-o-mat; etc). We continued on, however, saving the bookmobile for another day.

We wound our way through Greensboro onto I-40 and into some rougher hit neighborhoods of Winston-Salem, where we found, hidden among houses with barred windows, crammed onto a very small corner lot - the last standing Shell Station shaped like a shell. Our van filled the space between this architectural treasure of 1930 and the sidewalk. In a neighborhood where people do their best against, what would seem, less than good odds, it is the most well maintained structure.

It's a toy. A gimmick. It's not practical. It's not efficient. It was very clearly designed and built by humans. It has character and history. We would never see this kind of imagination and playfulness infiltrate such a corporate entity today. It's as if the Shell station of the 1930s represents the childhood of our collective culture, and we've since grown up.

The Collector Rediscovered

2009-09-01T08:42:00.005-04:00

Edward Gorey's Elephant House

I have nothing but collections. Collections of lines... of studies... of things that would be art - gathering dust on shelves, in corners, in fleeting thoughts too soon to disintegrate. I have nothing but lines of books - empty or incomplete texts, saved for someday when the thoughts might be completed. When the lost become found or rediscovered. I am the elephant house but without shell and shelf - without room or stair. I am incomplete and waiting - for space, for time, inspiration, encouragement. [1.25.04]

Book.List:
Elephant House: Or, The Home of Edward Gorey. Kevin McDermott
You Are Here: Personal Geographies and Other Maps of the Imagination. Katherine Harmon
Squeak Carnwath: Lists, Observations & Counting Squeak Carnwath.

An Exerpt

2009-08-31T19:53:00.006-04:00

"A scrap of paper crumpled up and thrown on the studio floor amongst unstretched canvases, on which you stand, pails of pigment - some mixed with clay, the odd saucepan, broken sticks of charcoal, rags, discarded drawings, two empty cups. On the scrap of paper are written two words: FACE and PLACE.

The studio was once a bicycle factory, no? You work here in your painting shoes and clothes. The shirt and trousers were originally striped. Now, like the shoes, they are encrusted with pigment. So I picture you as two people: a man about to ride away on his bicycle and a convict.

However, the only thing which matters, when the day is done, is what lies painted on the floor or leaning against the walls, waiting to be seen the next day. What matters is what the changing night can never quite reveal - the thing to which one is nearest when one fears one has probably lost it."

John Berger, The Shape of a Pocket
. (p. 27)

Stolen Biography of Paper

2009-08-31T18:52:00.010-04:00

The Cellar

Finding ones' self masticated and beaten, hoping only to be whole again. Longing for rooted ground and sunshine. Instead left to dry in some dark room in preparation for a life of enclosures. She'd heard the stories but never believed them to be anything other than myth.

Cumulonimbus

To pass the time we choreographed plays, casting characters to be guessed at by those looking from below, shading the one disappointed plant who only seemed to reach further for the sun. Barely discernible whispers of "please move" waft up as I float by. Sounds of others, telling stories of places where no sun exists as they giggle at the ridiculousness of such a thought.

Sustenance

Stretching upward, pleased with the warmth of the sun on my face and the coolness of the ground beneath as I heave and sigh breathing in all that surrounds me. I stretch and wave as a cloud passes over. Please move I whisper, longing once more for the warmth of the sun on my face.

The Sun

It was startling, this giant forcing her fingers into the dirt around my roots, but she brought warmth. It was like the sun but without the light. She said my roots were strong; I'd do well here. "Good Stock," she said, "Good Stock!"

Listening In

There were two of them, walking the garden path with trowels and shovels. I'd heard one say to the other that it was harvest time. I liked to play in the garden, pretending I was the farmer. I'd stick my fingers in the dirt like they did, and in a deep voice I'd say "Good Stock" and then agree with myself, "Yes indeed, good stock!"

The Prophecy

They left. Startled, the birds left, the sound of their wings growing distant and quiet. The Sun disappeared and rough hands pushed me from one side to another. "Harvest time," it said.

Fantasies

Looking upward to the strange, sunless sky which now seems always to be covered in wooden clouds. Please move, I whisper over and over, Please move.

Reprise

I again find myself by the lake, birds playing in the sun-filled sky above, and cool earth beneath me. I hear my own breath as the wind blows through me, pages flapping like birds' wings.

Bad Dreams happen to good Vacuum Tables

2009-08-11T09:19:00.004-04:00

I awoke this morning from a dream, in which my former landlord was hauling away all my paper making equipment like prisoners to a death camp. Now, I know it is not nice, or fair, to liken anyone to a Nazi - although, clearly, my subconscious did not get that memo - but it felt like the end of the world. So, now I'm redesigning my vacuum table with a shallower sink base, smaller holes, and (heavily sealed) marine grade plywood. I will post the plans when I'm done.

My current vacuum table (currently in storage) is a 4' x 4' x 8" monster, made of melamine covered particle board, plasti-coat, plexiglass, and (way too soft) brass screws. It (usually) sits atop saw horses with a connection for the wet/dry vac on the underside. I'd say it weighs close to 70 lbs. and has been moved from Detroit to North Carolina to Colorado and back to North Carolina & is still intact. (Thanks to Gary Venable, Cranbrook Academy of Art).

The Vat unveiled

2005-06-28T20:04:00.000-04:00

Images of my new paper pulling (bathtub) vat

Curbside discoveries

2005-06-25T12:29:00.000-04:00

I have to admit feeling rather defeated lately. Being unable to create anything & watching deadlines for shows pass without having anything to submit - really makes one feel like a failure.

The Universe, however, had something to say about that, for last night I discovered a fabulous curbside find. It appears that a neighbor is re-habbing their bathroom & threw out their bath tub.

Unbeknownst to them, I was looking for something to serve as a large pulling vat. With the help of my girlfriend, we stealthily hoisted the tossed out tub into the back of my car & quietly drove it back to the house.

It is now sitting in the car port waiting for me to build it a nice sturdy frame on which to sit. Joy! life is good today!

One step closer to pulling!

In the Beginning...

2005-06-24T12:28:00.000-04:00

Over the past couple of years, on a shoe string budget, I have been building my papermaking studio from scratch. I've been keeping a handmade journal of the process, but it was suggested that I keep an online journal as well.

So this is my papermaker's journal. I'm sure it will be peppered with non-papermaking fodder. Dealing with the 'in-betweens' of life. so, We'll see where it leads us.

I began this endeavor while at Grad school. I was the only papermaker in a Printmaking program at Cranbrook Academy of Art - so I set out to build make shift facilities that would allow me to continue with my Thesis work (sculptural prints). Seeing that I was at an art school, it wasn't hard to scrounge up various materials & I had a wonderful wood shop (& wood shop advisor) at my disposal. Unfortunately, when I left Cranbrook, I left a lot of my equipment (work tables, desks, couching tables) - thinking that I could just as easily rebuild them.

What I didn't take into account was being flat broke. Lack of foresight. I neglected to recall the cost of living in the "real world" and ended up spending my savings on a cross country move, deposit on a rental house, & oh yeah, student loan repayment.

It's now a year later & I'm just starting to get a toe-hold on the situation:

To start out, I have a few pieces of equipment, bought, salvaged or built:

Several small pulling vats: a plastic utility sink (from Home Depot), a large cement mixing tub, a 2'x3' storage tub (from IKEA)
Vacuum table: built while in Grad school (pictures and plans to come). size: 4'x4'
A plethora of small, make-shift Mould & Deckles: size range from 4"x6" to 16"x20"
Felts: made of Pelon and old Wool Army Blankets.
Wet/Dry Vac: was abandoned in my studio at school - no one claimed it (probably because it's ancient), so it became mine.

What I still need to make/replace/scrounge:

Couching Table
Paper Dryer
Large pulling vats (to accomodate 4' long Mould&Deckles)
Large mould & Deckles (I'm looking at a range of up to 48" wide, various depths.)
Work Table
Pulper
&, Oh yes, A Beater (I've actually found plans to enable me to build my own - should I be that adventurous. Otherwise I'm looking Mark Lander's Cherub or Critter)

My first goal is to scrounge up enough money to actually buy a table saw - I found one for $150 that will work. Now I just have to find the $150. That combined with a compressor and brad/nail gun will enable me to make a majority of the items listed above.

In the mean time, I just need to get back to making paper.