It could be all of the John Cage lectures I'm listening too, for the 8 hour stints I'm spending printing on my C&P, but I'm becoming obsessed with the idea of an ink less impression. It could also have to do with my brain buzzing from reading every mushroom cultivation book i can put my hands on, maybe all of the Latin names; or maybe it's the radon levels in my shop. Whatever it is, i cannot help but be absorbed by the idea and action of setting whole paragraphs of lead type, situating it into a chase and printing with ink, only to be dissatisfied and deciding to print everything as an ink less impression. I really enjoy the idea that at a glance that these books I'm making as of this week appear to contain nothing at all and in time will probably only contain a light shadow from the leads original impression. Like mushrooms bursting from myclelium, they make themselves know and then they are gone like that! The only archives being written records. So what happens when the written records are in jeopardy, purposely, by the hands of a man, surrounded by the subtle airy echo of John Cage's sly flow of Thoreauian mania. Maintenance is a word that ive thought a lot about for many years. It's the only reason we exist, have jobs, sleep, wake up, get tired and do it all over again, for the sake of maitenance. I like the idea of an artist, Beuys like figure, whose work only exists because people recorded it from a third party perspective, before it was gone forever. Is that the ultimate test of a timeless figure. Will the ideas and work of a single person hold the test of time, if they arent even there?