Cat and Mouse

Today – worked more on the lino block – always a game of cat and mouse with pencils, markers, glasses and

“Oh, where did the coffee cup go?”

The block is 18 X 24 – not small and not large. Just the right size. Maybe. The image is NOT a simple translation from the drawing – it changes. Presently considering it as a black and white. My painters’ eye may convince me otherwise. Right now all of my design considerations are being imagined through the power of ink or no ink, black and paper.

I use lots of notes on my blocks, just simply to keep track of the thought process. That also can be a game of cat and mouse. Sometimes I find myself asking, “What was the plan here?” So, I also draw on the block – or redraw over the transferred image. There are many ways to transfer but today I used what was available – pencils, graphite powder, a printer/copier and tape.

It isn’t real high tech – First I trace the key points of the photocopied image on the reverse side. A light table or the front door works pretty well. Then powdered graphite on the front of the drawing (remember it is a photocopy so no drawings were harmed) and draw over the key lines. That’s what I start with on the block. It is a flipped image so it helps to be one of those kids who were diagnosed as Dyslexic.

So here are some images from today. I have started to cut but again, the image evolves over the time of cutting. It is really sort of like a dialogue you might have with a new friend.

All my life



“All My Life”

Every artist gets asked, “So, how long did that take you?” and although from some that question may seem like a snarky sort of question and the answer can be snarky, quoting Pablo Picasso, “All my life.” Or the question can be genuine and honest and that question deserves a genuine and honest answer again quoting from Picasso, “All my life.”

I pondered this today as I pulled together the prep work for a block I am itching to get working on – When July 1 rolls around, educators realize that the summer is almost nigh –

I’ll post on the progress of this print as it comes into being.


Piecing the puzzle together – using the best light box nature can provide. The front door and sunlight.


Flipping the image - tracing the key points on the back of the image.

Flipping the image – tracing the key points on the back of the image.

Thursday Mornings

Mary Oliver – speaks to the heart
with gentle words and sharp knives.
The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save

the only life you could save.


Wondering about students and how quiet it is in the studio and how time flies and how quickly the seasons change. How quickly (to me) it seems that they learn to see again and come to some deeper understanding of light and form and mark.

It is almost mid-term and the early mornings are crisp and the lines are becoming more confident.