When the Press Gets Stuck
I didn’t mean to dismantle a pasta machine last weekend.
I meant to print.
I’ve been using an old pasta machine as a makeshift printing press for intaglio experiments. It had already lived a long life before I adopted it. The metal was a little rusty. The rollers a little temperamental. It had that slightly unreliable feel of something that might give up at any moment.
I ignored that feeling.
I inked up my plate.
Dampened the paper.
Built my printing “sandwich.”
And began turning the handle.
Halfway through, it jammed.
Not gently. Completely.
The plate and card were trapped inside the rollers, wedged so tightly I couldn’t reverse it, couldn’t ease it forward. I ended up having to tear the card apart just to get it out.
That was the end of the old press.
The In-Between
I ordered a new pasta machine straight away. It arrived the next day.
But between Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, there was an unexpected pause.
And I didn’t know what to do with it.
So we cleared the garage.
We have both been putting it off for months. It’s one of those jobs that sits quietly in the background, growing heavier in your imagination. But the sun was out. The air felt brighter. So we did it.
Shelves sorted.
Boxes moved.
Things let go of.
I cleaned the fridge. Changed the bedding. Ticked off those small domestic jobs that somehow hold more mental weight than they deserve.
It felt like winter loosening.
The New Press
The new pasta machine arrived Sunday morning.
Shiny. Clean. Smooth.
There is something very satisfying about a tool that works the way it should.
Sunday afternoon was entirely devoted to printing.
And it was satisfying — deeply so. Working out:
The right dampness of the paper
The right amount of ink
The pressure settings
The way different materials transfer texture
The first clean pulls felt like a small victory.
Rushing the Finish
But I was excited.
Too excited.
And I think I rushed it.
Instead of allowing the plate to breathe, I added more. More marks. More texture. More detail.
Looking at the prints now, I can see it clearly:
It would have worked better if it were simpler.
There’s a lesson there.
Sometimes the tool works perfectly — and the thing that needs adjusting is restraint.
The Save the Date (Still Evolving)
Originally, this was all in service of creating a save the date for my 50th.
I’m still not entirely convinced I’ve landed on the final version.
I may remake the plate.
I may strip it back.
I may try something cleaner and quieter.
And that feels right.
This milestone doesn’t need to be rushed.
Printing as Practice
I also used the new press to create this month’s Full Moon Art Card.
see more of this over on my blog here
And that felt different.
Perhaps because the Art Cards are allowed to be experimental. Allowed to hold the marks of learning. Allowed to show pressure.
What I’m realising is that intaglio is not a one-off technique I can dip into when needed.
It’s a practice.
And like all practices, it will ask for repetition.
Less forcing.
More refinement.
Fewer marks.
More space.
The new press is here.
I’ll try again — more slowly this time.
—
Leah
Studio Notes