But I’m getting ahead of myself. As I mentioned in ‘problem-solving 101′, I wanted to try a plate made of illustration board coated with wood varnish. Partially because I really like working with all things paper, and because it is a cheap option and it’s less upsetting if I have to trash a plate and start over. So I bought two large sheets of illustration board when I was in Austin, which my father cut into smaller plates for me. I brought the plates to Tallinn and began the hunt for wood varnish. Considering the ample forests in this country and the common use of wood for both home interiors and exteriors, I assumed it would be a short hunt. But no. I visited store after store, but could not find simple glossy water-based wood varnish. I finally settled on Le Tonkinois, though a small tin cost 10€.

I brushed a layer of this varnish on 16 plates in preparation for my trip. They were dry by morning, so I packed them up and headed to Tartu. I worried that the normal method of transferring images would damage the varnish, so I wanted to try a type of carbon copying, but couldn’t find the materials I needed in the studio. So I focused on other aspects of the project until I figured out what to do about that.

When I had wondered aloud to a friend how I should produce the text, he right away suggested typing. I thought it was a brilliant idea, so I used one of the typewriters at the Trükimuuseum (one that previously belonged to Jaan Kaplinski) to type out the text. Man, what a pain in the ass. Not to mention I felt a little weird writing such a simple story with a typewriter that had been used for important writing in the past. In any case, I had to press the keys hard, and it was weird not working with a flat keyboard like I’m used to with my laptop. I also chose a difficult method for typing. Instead of just typing letter after letter, I decided that the book would look better if I s p a c e d o u t t h e l e t t e r s l i k e t h i s . So a single space between each letter and a double space between each word. All lowercase, with only a minimal use of punctuation. Any mistakes and I had to start over with a new sheet. Eventually I got into a rhythm with it and got it all done. And then I realized an hour later that I should have the book in a horizontal layout and not vertical. Pff. I’m figuring out most of this as I go along, obviously. So I retyped everything. And then an hour later I realized that the method of binding I’m going to use (a Japanese stab binding called Kikko Toji or Tortoise Shell Binding) requires larger margins, so there are a few pages I need to retype. But the text part is basically done. Yay!

With that (mostly) done, I needed to get back to the plates. So I transferred the image from a paper printed with an office printer by applying a liquid (causing the black printer ink to liquify and transfer), and the varnish wasn’t damaged. I then scratched the image onto the plate and started to ink it up. And the whole plate turned black and I couldn’t remove much of the excess ink, so I was left with a black plate. I don’t know if the varnish wasn’t thick enough or what, but that experiment was a failure. I added an additional layer of varnish to some of the remaining plates and left them to dry overnight. I left the studio quite frustrated that evening, but that’s part of the learning process.

So the next day, I grabbed one of the double-varnished plates and transferred the image as before. This time the varnish was damaged, so I guess it wasn’t fully dried or was too thick. But I thought that it could be a beautiful mistake, so I’d still try to use the plate. But scratching removed large chunks of the varnish and I had to admit defeat. I was disappointed that this method I had somewhat been counting on for four months didn’t work out in the end, although the most annoying part is not knowing exactly what didn’t work (since the method has worked for other artists).

The studio uses polyester plates for drypoint, so I finally gave that a try. And, surprisingly, I like it. Maybe I like it because it actually works, but the ease and fluidity of drawing on the plates also felt really nice. And because the plates are clear, I can simply have the image to trace underneath. Very simple.

I put the paper to soak before I started making the plate, since the drypoint paper needs to be wet before printing. Then I took the paper out of the water to dry slightly before I started inking the plate. Inking a plate takes a while. Or rather, removing the excess ink takes a while. And it’s messy. I’m still figuring out the best method for that, but again that is part of the learning process and I’ve managed just fine so far.

So after preparing the paper and inking/de-inking the plate, I made my first print. I wanted some of the lines to be darker, so I worked on the plate a bit more. And then another print. And then I worked on the plate some more. And then another print. At this point, I decided I didn’t like the pouch pattern and tried a traditional cross-hatch (which had actually been my first instinct that I had promptly ignored). But the previous pattern still showed up. So, that’s a test plate and I will make a new plate (with the image reversed, so the final print is as the artist drew it). I’m a little nervous that Beryl (the artist) isn’t going to like the textures/patterns I added to her images, though I think it’s normal for printmakers to add their own touch to images they work with.

It was a bummer to have such a short stay in Tartu (I really only had three days in the studio), but that’s how it goes. I’m so grateful that the good people of Trükimuuseum are flexible and patient regarding my schedule. I will go again in June, but in the meantime I really don’t want to lose the momentum, so I will look for a press in Tallinn (and perhaps in Ghent, as I will be there for a bit soon) to continue my work.

On another note, I met some really great people in Tartu and was busy with activities every evening. And the home where I stayed this time is in a good location for walking to the studio. Hopefully I can stay there again in June. Can’t wait!

Composer/pianist David Burge passed away…

I’ve also been listening to Lubomyr Melnyk’s new album, though I can’t find it streaming online anymore. :( Really lovely continuous piano.

I’m liking Abigail Doan’s new post series called Make It Monday, which is basically a dose of what she’s working on and what’s inspiring her.

I’ve also been reading through The Art of Balance, a series of short interviews with artists who are parents. And, similarly, We Who Are About To Breed, a series of short interviews with writers who are parents. I’m thinking of starting something similar.

I’ve also been researching embroidery (for future inspiration) and drypoint (for my current project), the results of which you can see on the respective Pinterest boards.

And this slightly off-topic bit: I was very pleasantly surprised to see The Unknowable featured on the Feeling Stitchy blog. So sweet!

Last year, I found two large pieces of cardboard (roughly 21.5×13.5in/51.5x34cm). I knew immediately that I wanted to draw on them, and eventually I did (on one, so far). The drawing is in my usual style, just larger than usual, and it was my first time using marker and ball-point pen together. It was really smooth and easy, and I was happy with the results. And yet… I knew I wasn’t done. There was too much blank space, and it just didn’t feel complete. So I set it aside for a while while figuring out what to do. My first instinct was to add text, but what and how? Eventually, I settled on a quote from ‘A Lover’s Discourse’ by Roland Barthes, which I had been reading in bits and spurts.

I am caught in this contradiction: on the one hand, I believe I know the other better than anyone and triumphantly assert my knowledge to the other (“I know you-I’m the only one who really knows you!”); and on the other hand, I am often struck by the obvious fact that the other is impenetrable, intractable, not to be found; I cannot open up the other, trace back the other’s origins, solve the riddle. Where does the other come from? Who is the other? I wear myself out, I shall never know.

A lot of my work these days is inspired by Jonas (see FIFTY THINGS, for example). This quote, in spite of its dry and impersonal philosophical tone, describes pretty well how I feel about THE OTHER (in this case, Jonas). Sometimes it feels like the more I get to know him, the more I realize I don’t know him and never will. There are always more layers unfolding; more to explore. Which I guess keeps things interesting, but it is sometimes frustrating that he will always be THE UNKNOWABLE.

Back to this piece. I had settled on a quote, but I still wasn’t sure how to apply it to the cardboard. Just writing it on seemed a bit dull and too easy. I was working on this at the same time I was working on FIFTY THINGS, and when looking at the portfolio of Sam Pickett (who ended up drawing the illustration for #21) on Flickr, it suddenly clicked.

Embroidery! Embroidering on cardboard isn’t the same as embroidering on fabric, so I had to puncture the cardboard first. Which meant I had to write the letters first, and figure out if I wanted straight lines, etc. There was a lot of trial and error and time passing. But eventually I figured out how I wanted the words, which needle was best for puncturing, and I made a push pin (with a needle, a scrap of denim, and a tiny plastic teapot lid) to protect my fingers. More trial and error there, not to mention blisters. It was a painful and long process, and even once I was done with that, I still had the embroidery to do. That took months and months. It took a couple hours to do about 1/3 of a line of text using a basic back stitch, so it was very boring and laborious work. It’s exactly the kind of work I love/hate to do! While the results of any project are important for me, I’m so much more interested in the process.

A few things I learned about embroidery on cardboard: I made way too many holes and they were too close together. Sometimes the small bit of cardboard between holes broke, and part of the reason it took so long to do was because all of the holes I had to work the thread through. And it was completely unnecessary because the final result would have been just as good with fewer holes. Live and learn. When I started out, I didn’t have a method. The needle would come out in whichever direction (to the right OR the left of the thread already there), but over time I developed a method with looping on one side only. As a result, the text looked better and better as I progressed, plus I finally got into a rhythm with it.

So… as much as I complained to Jonas and my mom and whoever else would listen, I will be doing embroidery again! I don’t have a specific project planned at the moment (I really need to focus on my residency project for now), but I’ve been doing some research. Check out the Embroidery board I created on Pinterest.

Thoughts on this project, embroidery tips, and suggestions for embroidery/thread artists to check out are always welcome! I’d also love to know what YOU are working on at the moment.