Printshop holiday 2 -- linocutting

I wrote yesterday about the first day of my printing workshop at the Portland Museum, where we typeset and printed a short poem.  The second day we each cut a linoleum block to print the top of the broadside (technical printer-speak for a big piece of paper, suitable for display).

I was disappointed in the poem, from the standpoint of having to make an illustration to go with it.  Not that I have anything against horses, but I don't know how to draw horses, don't want to learn, and didn't want to make some lame picture that would look like third-grade-drawing-school-dropout.  So alone among my co-participants, I went abstract.

In four years of daily art I have discovered a personal affinity for the spiral and the eye; can't count how many times they have showed up in my hand-stitching and collages.  They have become my default imagery, and they stepped up to the plate again in the printshop.  I focused on the last line of the poem -- I want out -- and decided the trapped eye was an excellent depiction of that emotion.

I thought this was a pretty decent effort for my lifetime-first linoleum block.  There's only one glitch that I wished I had seen and fixed: the little ray in the iris that points toward 5 o'clock got a hair overcut.  But if I ever print the block again I can repair it first.

Here's Gray Zeitz, our master printer, getting my block on the press.  His meticulous makeready was fun to watch -- the block was a shade too low, so he built it up with several sheets of paper underneath -- and ensured a perfect impression when we printed.

Here's what the final broadsides looked like:

The full edition of prints contained 15 originals -- three different typefaces and five different linocuts. Every one looked great (mostly thanks to the guidance and assistance of Gray).  Before I forget everything I learned, maybe I can figure out to get some more press time.