I suppose that there are people who are creative and neat. It is not a concept that I am familiar with. In this location, papers, paints, ink pads, brushes, more paper, fibers, glues and tapes cover every open surface in my workroom.
Yesterday, it reached the point of organize-or-self-destruct, so I got busy trying to restore some order. I picked up a mystery stack of paper - as in, who put this here? - and discovered a paper covered with drawings...
...with one puffy little bird begging to be immortalized. Seeing an opportunity to create another stamp (a very addictive pastime, by the way), I pulled out my light box, copied the scribbly red bird, and applied the pencil tracing to a rubber block.
After the transfer was ready, and trying to remember leave the dark, remove the white, I started the process of cutting the shape into the buttery smooth rubber block.
There is something magical about watching the knife turn the smooth surface into a series of curvy valleys - from the first narrow outline cut to the broad, scoopy cuts in the open areas around the edges.
Then, the moment of truth. Will it stamp? Will it look like the original image? A first impression tells the story... and reveals high points that need to be removed.
Of course it's not "Old Master" art. It's deep-down personal... a cooperative effort with a yet-to-be-named-grandchild. Fine art indeed.
A gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of him that hath it: whithersoever it turneth, it prospereth. Proverbs 17:8