Homesick for something not yet known:
spring-fed, heart-led, overgrown.
This print is dedicated to a world that hasn’t been born yet and all the stalwart midwives shepherding it into existence; A world where no one is disappeared, all our needs are met, & little pleasures are abundant.
It’s my job to patch this old thing up before I pass it onto the next. I’ll not have any children, but that doesn’t mean I get to skirt the responsibility of the mending. I hope it keeps you warm.
I have a hope chest full of her quilts. One is the perfect size for an infant, composed of my grandfather’s ties. I never knew that man myself. My brother adored him, but he sounds quite suspect based on the stories I’ve heard.
I knew my maternal grandmother all too briefly. I felt her care in shoeboxes full of broken crayons and untouched pints of coffee ice cream and home-sewn dresses and cream-of-chicken-canned-vegetable-casseroles and long, precious, sun-drenched weeks spent under her roof, far away from danger.
It’s a strange line of thinking for me because genetically, I come from pretty rough stock - I wasn’t particularly well cared for by the people most directly responsible for my existence. I don’t know a whole lot about who came before them or before them or before them.
this heart is an old quilt, worn and true.
Been thinking about lineages of care lately…. of care as an heirloom passed down & shared & spread over each other. A backdrop, a blanket.
2/2
kicked off the new year in my studio by making a little zine, 1/2
slow & steady, get there when you’re ready.
linocut print on lokta paper.
secure, adrift
mini linocut print on BFK Rives paper
(hand)kerchiefs✨
finally caught the local wool & dye shop while they were open (new england small business hours are “when they feel like it”) and it was worth the wait, turned some scraps I found there into banners
some more linocut pins 💫
inside outside, linocut print on lokta paper
“Don't do it, Eleanor told the little girl; insist on your cup of stars; once they have trapped you into being like everyone else you will never see your cup of stars again; don't do it;” - The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson
Hello, I’m Jasper. I make linocut prints.
