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I have been printing a grid

frustrated by my cute nose and loose wrists, I have disappeared from Detroit and have been in the print studio among steel plates, ink canisters clanking on glass and white kids making ‘grotesque’ images of skin-cracked babies.

Chris is here in critique nodding, and a man made a print by casting the iching on his iphone and placed stones in a grid filling a 12×20 woodblock. the image was quite successful and i believe he may have struck upon a process of making which removes the self enough to facilitate a pure emergence of (the) form. It is a print, this piece of paper with ink.

Scan 4

2015

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