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These two prints were started last summer in Crow’s Shadow Press in Oregon. There is a weight of silence in the shimmering breeze. It’s one of the few times I can hear my muscles creak, the blood in my ears and the rush of light filtering through trees: a far world from zone one London.
I’m happy to be carving again and feel good to get back to making things rather than thinking the whole time: I’ve always favoured instinct over logic, though there are tales hidden within…

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