Over the past few months I’ve been circling back to the kinds of processes that sit quietly between disciplines, where photography, printmaking, and textile thinking overlap. I’ve been looking at how digital images can be softened, grounded, or made more tactile through analogue layers, and how historical materials—especially the magic‑lantern slides I’ve been working with, look and respond to these hybrid approaches. There’s something quite compelling about letting an image move through more than one world: the precision of digital, the unpredictability of hand‑coating, the way paper absorbs and releases pigment, the way time seems to gather on the surface.

Part of this exploration has involved researching small‑scale, home‑based printing methods that could support slow making. I’m interested in how pigment‑ink prints can act as underlayers for processes like gum bichromate, and how these methods might eventually become something I can offer to others—for artists who need careful, archival prints, or people with old photographs and slides who want them handled with sensitivity. For now, I’m simply learning, testing, and paying attention to what feels possible.

I’m doing some research into whether there might be interest in this kind of slow, careful, home‑based printing practice in the future — both for artists and for people with old photographs or slides they’d like handled with sensitivity. For now I’m learning, testing, and letting the process unfold, but I’d love to hear from anyone who finds this area of interest.

If this kind of slow process resonates with you, I’d be curious to hear your thoughts.