The victorian house linocut I carved has been whispering my name from the inside of a drawer for the past few weeks.
"Ink me." it said. "I know the suspense is killing you. Don't you care to see if I can print at all? Is orange the color for me, or maybe a pretty light blue? What about a little fun with pen, or watercolor backgrounds? How would I look on a colored paper, or the page of an old book? Come on, just take a moment and check me out. There are so many possibilities, and I know you're just dying to play."
But I had too much going on. You know how it gets. And as a result of a busy life, fun little projects that I barely make time for in the first place get pushed back, back, back, unfinished, but never quite forgotten. It just sits in the back of my mind on this limbo land to-do list taking up space in my brain. Truth be told, if it wasn't for my lunch hour it never would have been carved in the first place, so I knew it would take an effort to make the time to print it. There was a tiny play kitchen to be made and a first birthday party to plan, though, which seemed to spend every spare moment I could make.
Then finally came the day that I decided, the effort must be made. A Wednesday night when the day was less than ideal and I just needed a win. I needed something personal and just for fun. It was 10 before I could get to it, but I had finished all that needed to be done and was finally able to say to that whisper in the drawer, "Ok, ok, you win. It's time. This moment has been made for you, and for me. Let's roll some ink".
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