Blog Entry: Printmaking – Releasing, Layering, and Finding Light

Printmaking has become one of the most meaningful parts of my studio practice this year. Each process—lino printing, screenprinting, and metal etching—offered a different way to explore emotion, memory, and healing. I discovered that printmaking is not just about ink on paper; it is about repetition, rhythm, and the quiet space that opens when the hands stay busy and the mind is allowed to breathe.

Lino printing taught me the honesty of carving. Every cut is permanent, every mark becomes part of the story. My resolved work Towards the Light came from this process: a line of white figures walking into a glowing centre, symbolising that every person—whether they helped me or harmed me—walks toward the same truth in the end. The carving felt like releasing old memories, cutting away the heaviness and revealing something softer, more hopeful underneath.

Screenprinting was the opposite: vibrant, layered, bold. It allowed me to experiment with fluoro colours, stencils, transparencies, and strong silhouettes. My final screenprint, Darkness No More, layers a black face over bright, radiant colours pushing from behind. It represents the moment trauma loses its power and the inner light finally shines through. I also created playful and expressive experiments—a cat, lace over colour, and birds flying through pollution—each one becoming a small emotional release in its own right.

Metal etching introduced stillness. The slow process of drawing into the metal, watching the acid reveal the image, and wiping ink into the grooves felt almost meditative. The botanical prints and nature studies I created reminded me that healing often happens quietly, like growth in a garden—layer by layer, season by season.

Working across all three methods helped me process trauma in a way that felt purposeful and grounding. The physicality of carving, rolling, wiping, pressing, and layering allowed me to move emotions through my hands and out onto the page. Printmaking became a place where I could transform pain into imagery, chaos into order, and darkness into light. These works stand as small but powerful reminders of resilience, renewal, and the steady courage that comes from creating.