My art process sometimes feels like a children’s book. Specifically, it feels like a recreation of If you give a mouse a cookie.
If I want to make a decorative relief print of morning glories, I must carve the wood matrix. If I want the right blue, I must mix some colors.
These colors are all wrong.
Time to mix new colors.
Wait a minute.
Spontaneous combustion? Good thing I’m using a soy-based binder instead of linseed oil. But, wait, is the absence of a warning tantamount to a green light?
I’ll update this if my Prussian Blue prints go up in flames. I’ll also stick one in a sunny place to tempt fate check its lightfastness.
Wait, what was the purpose of all this? I think I’ve lost the plot.
