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.