The room

A board that inks soles, not swings

Suite 1 smells like paper and wet clay on purpose.

Owen built the press from a lithography proofing frame and a strip of indoor turf that we replace when the nap lies. The limestone floor was already here; we kept it because rubber mats taught the wrong lesson. You stand, you step, the film takes a print, we peel.

There is a bucket of Iowa clay we re-wet for April demonstrations. It is ugly. It is also the only honest witness we have found for a flange.