The first time I pressed damp paper to a slick, inked plate and pulled a print – a true monotype – I was hooked by wonder. The studio, quiet, punctuated only by the brayer's rasp, felt electric with possibility. You wait, heart in your throat, as fingers peel back the corner of the paper. What emerges is always new: evidence of both intention and chance – a richly layered surface alive with strokes, veils of colour, and textures from foraged fronds or found mesh. Unlike other

The first time a friend asked, "What is collagraphy?" I pressed her palm onto a plate bristling with sandpaper and string, then rolled ink onto its rough construction. The word may sound arcane, but collagraphy simply means building a print matrix from everyday textures – glueing down scraps, fabrics, or even dried petals onto cardboard, sealing them in place, and using them to create astonishing prints. Much of my practice at TART begins in the sensory tangle of gluey finger