March 2024 SOLC–Day 31
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Yesterday my daughter, Lydia, and I took a block printing class. I signed us both up a month or so ago, because…well, why not? I thought it would be fun to stretch ourselves and try something new, and she was game. It was a date!

At 2 pm we sat down to learn about block printing. There were 10-12 of us there. The instructor gave us a brief overview and then set us free. We began with potatoes to get the feel for the tools. Everyone dove right in, and I immediately floundered.

What should I try?

I sketched a few things, but nothing resonated. Lydia had a few good designs going, very Scandinavian in temperament. The women across from me were working on shapes and leaves. Soon, they’d already cut into their potatoes and started experimenting. I envied their blithe confidence. I stared at my potato, hoping for an incoming idea. I could feel tendrils of frustration start to unfurl and grow. Remember this is for fun. It’s good to try something new! I glanced at my paper. I glanced at my watch. How much longer did this class last?

In desperation, I looked up a few things on my phone to try to spark my inspiration. I found some organic looking prints I liked. I shook off my hesitation (well, as much as possible) and decided to go for a sort of organic Queen-Anne’s lacy vibe. The blade that was available seemed too thick for what I’d envisioned, but I plugged away. Eventually I took a deep breath and set down the potato, hoping it would turn out better than I thought. Remember, it’s just a potato! You can try another one if it doesn’t work. I rolled out the ink, inked my potato and pulled over a scrap piece of paper. I pushed the potato down carefully, held it there, held my breath too, and then carefully pulled the potato up and away.

Voilà!

Oh, this was downright embarrassing. Was anyone looking? I re-inked and tried again. Not much improvement. I had to resist turning my paper over to hide it. I showed my effort to Lydia, and tried to laugh it off, but yikes! I looked at the much higher caliber work on the table around me. My thoughts turned to students who are reluctant to share their work, and I remembered again why I was doing this, and why I need to do things like this more often. The learning curve is not comfortable for me. It also didn’t help that my daughter was apparently a block cutting prodigy, producing this on her first potato effort:

The instructor, walking by, commented, “Wow! I can’t believe you were able to get so much detail out of a potato!” She just nodded (pityingly?) as she walked by my apparently Rorschach-ink-blot-inspired print. Ugh! At the next table she gushed, “Do most of you already have a creative practice? I’m so impressed by what you’re producing!” I resisted the temptation, yet again, to turn over my printed paper. “Well, I could write about this,” I muttered under my breath. Damn learning curve!

Back to the drawing board! What had I learned so far that could help me? Well, I definitely needed a finer tool, and I needed to simplify my design (and revise my high hopes that I was going to have a secret hidden block cutting talent). My next two efforts looked like this:

Ok. That wasn’t too bad. I realized that I needed to consider the shape of the potato, too. I liked how it was irregular around my regular spiral, and hadn’t even considered that element of things when cutting.

Then it was time to switch to the linoleum printing block. The instructor gave us some more instruction and tips. She rustled up some additional fine point cutting tools, so we all had access to whatever we wanted and needed. I stared at the pink block. Drew a sketch on paper. Shrugged. Drew the sketch on the block. I struggled to think about how this would actually print. It’s a sort of reverse way of thinking– You’re carving what you don’t want to show, and it’s rather mind-bendy. It was definitely a foreign way for me to think. I considered it a bit longer, trying to wrap my head around it, and finally, just shrugged (there was a lot of shrugging going on!) and started. (Next to me, my daughter prodigy was staring at her block and feeling frustrated now. “I peaked too early,” she claimed.)

I picked my tool and began cutting. I liked the feel of the block and carving away the lino was kind of fun. Soon, a pile of pink slivers littered the table before me and my chosen shape was, more or less, emerging. I grew a bit bolder, taking off more and more of the lino. Still, I was very unsure how this next experiment would turn out. I was NOT looking forward to a return to the humiliation of the first potato effort. I tried a trial print of my block, and revised my plan, cutting away a bit more. I also noticed how the ink made fascinating patterns, which added to the print. This was another whole element I hadn’t considered–ink color, thickness, etc. I reconsidered. Carved more. Printed on some scrap paper again. Removed a few more spots.

And then I was done. I got a notecard, carefully rolled out the ink, placed my lino block on it and pushed. I moved the inked block over to the card, centered it and gently laid it down. I pressed, hoping the ink was evenly applied. Once again holding my breath, I slowly lifted away the block to see what I had made.

Hey! That wasn’t bad. I actually liked it! I decided to use this print for my second card, too, and quickly learned that two prints are never precisely the same–which was actually kind of cool. Looking at my prints, I noticed some things I would change, but essentially, I felt pretty successful. Next to me, Lydia had recovered her equilibrium and had created a sweet floral carving, printing it on her notecard in a bright red.

And then, just like that, it was time to clean up.

After the class, Lydia and I left the studio, prints in hand, talking about how we’d had a lot of fun, and about how we’d had to work through our doubts and frustrations to get there.

It seems fitting that this month of writing challenge ends with a post about trying something new. Yesterday, I swiftly remembered how much I dislike the learning curve and how frustration and embarrassment can get in the way of learning. I also remembered how important it is for me to put myself out there and give it a try.

Thanks for a great month everyone! I won’t say it’s been easy, but it was definitely worth the effort.