The proofs for my book arrived last week. They looked great! Save for one glaring error in my biography: I neglected to set the numbers in my birth year as text figures.

As a child I remember distinctly wondering: Are there lower case numbers? What are they called? What do they look like? I read The Elements of Typographic Style* before beginning to set Human Parts of me Want to Eat the Flowers off of Trees, and was ecstatic to find the answer to this old question:

Arabic numerals - known in Arabic as Indian numerals, arqãm hindiyya, because the Arabs obtained them from India - entered the scribal traditional of Europe in the thirteenth century. Before that (and for many purposes afterward) European scribes used roman numbers, written in capitals when they occurred in the midst of other capitals, and in lowercase in the midst of lowercase letters. Typographers have naturally inherited this custom if setting roman numerals so that they harmonize with the words…

When arabic numerals joined the roman alphabet, they too were given both lowercase and uppercase forms. Typographers call the former text figures, hanging figures, lowercase figures, or old-style figures and make a point of using them whenever the surrounding text is set in lowercase letters or small caps. The alternative forms are called titling figures, ranging figures, or lining figures, because they range or align with one another and with the upper case.

The Elements of Typographic Style, Robert Bringhurst

I really wish I could provide some examples of form and appropriate usage, but I don’t think Wordpress has small cap capability. Perhaps I’ll scan some pages to post later.

*A book I highly, highly recommend above all others to anyone interested in book design or typography. It is lucid, poetic, almost metaphysical in its authoritative presentation of the subject.

Lizzie sweetly invited me to the Portland Zine Symposium this past weekend. She’s been volunteering at ZAPP this summer and they had an extra bed at their hotel for her, so away we went.

I’ve been out of the zine loop for what feels like ages. Since taking up letterpress I’ve been much more focused on fine printing than I have on the DIY scene. The last few months, though, I’ve been feeling the itch to do zine making again, and with modern communities* talking about starting up a quarterly publication, PDX was a welcome inspiration.

Despite not being connected with the scene for a couple of years, I was pleasantly surprised to run into a few names that I remembered. I used to get Lady Pajama’s per zine and I got to met her for the first time. LP happened to be tabling with Courtney Blazon, who’s art is currently up at Victrola, where Lizzie works. Theo Ellsworth was also there. I’m crazy about his art and was delighted to hear that he has a book forth coming. There were several zines that I didn’t follow but knew by title and was pleased to put a name with a face, and of course I discovered some new gems. There was a farmer’s market happening behind the building and we both purchased poems from Luis Maestre (Or maybe Luim Tremases? His business card has both names!).

Also, a young lady asked if she could photograph my rat tail for her blog, RAT TAIL DREAMS.

Lizzie after a long day of zines.

*Check out our sister journal, WWR (or at least it should). There’s a passel of new interviews up.

I’m still working out exactly what I want to use this journal for. When I started the site, I intended for it to be exclusively about letterpress printing and book binding. My letterpress work is enormously important to me, what I do is larger than that. So while this journal will still be primarily be about letterpress, expect a few tidbits about my writing and other projects to crop up now and then.

One thing I’ve been dying to talk about are the classes I’ve been taking at the Northwest Film Forum. I shot a short film at the end of July and editing happens next week. Over the past year I’ve been trying to direct my writing toward being more narrative driven, but I miss creating in a world of pure images. Film has proven, naturally, to be an excellent vehicle for me to return to that state of mind. And it’s so nice to be experimenting in a field outside of my expertise and to create something more playful, with less pressure. When the editing is done I’m sure I’ll YouTube the thing, so stay tuned (ho ho!).

O! I have been wildly busy enjoying summer and not on the Internet very much.

These are some photographs of the press I use and the island on which I use it. I don’t know anything about the history of the Asbern proof press, other than than it was manufactured in Germany. I’m supposing it’s a post-war creation. It’s a very pleasing proof press to work with. The packing is adjustable! In a Vandercook, one of the most common proof presses in use today, you have to go through a fairly complicated and time consuming ritual of packing and and repacking the tympan* to change the strength of the impression, involving latches and wrenches and twirls and locks. But with the Asbern you just turn a little dial and voilà! You have adjusted your impression. Love love love it. There’s also a ruler on the paper feed that corresponds to a ruler in the bed of the press, which is an incredibly brilliant innovation.

PS I’ve also added some books and prints to the site, if you’d like to take a look.

*The tympan, by the way, is the oiled manila sheet that covers the sheets of packing which change the strength of the impression (more sheets give a stronger impression, fewer a weaker one). The paper on which you would like to print is held on top of the tympan as it passes over the form. In a cylinder press like an Asbern or Vandercook the tympan is stretched tight over the drum of the cylinder. In a hand press, like the Albion, for example, the tympan lays flat and is lowered onto the form. At the San Francisco Center for the Book the tympans are covered with wipeable clear plastic which keeps them clean, a detail which I appreciate.

I hate Virginia Woolf.

We have the same birthday. We are both writers. We are both printers. We both tend toward hysteria, madness, and being kind of faggy. I feel like I’m in this weird cosmic competition with her for the individuality of my soul. Everything I want to do Virginia Woolf has already done. I actually don’t know if I like or dislike her novels because I go into them with such a rotten attitude and never finish.

Les, though, once told us about a dream Virginia had, that has always given me a tickle, in which she saw herself as a case of pied type (when type is “pied” it means it has been spilled), to which Clara retorted, “She would.”

I’ve just uploaded new photographs for the books and prints on the main site. Much nicer than the jury-rigged scans I had before. Heartfelt thanks to Lilli, Jason, Lizzie and Ava for their help. We took some photographs of my limited run work, too, and I hope to get those up soon soon soon.