By definition, a misprint is                                               an error,

a fault,

a mistake,

an inaccuracy,

an omission,

a slip,

a blunder

or even a fallacy.

The prefix alone indicates that it is something negative.

For generations of printers, the aim has been to perfect the result,

to strive for impeccable reproduction – over and over again.

And when this fails, hundreds of sheets of paper are

discarded, unwanted, rejected –

because they were slightly different.

But there is no such thing as a misprint.

Unlike my fellow printers – I don’t see fault in the imperfect.

On the contrary, differences and dissimilitudes fascinate me.

They create a new dynamic on paper,

a human touch to the formalities of the mechanical

In a world where industrial reproduction wants to smoothen

anything and everything,

I find comfort in the quirks of a [mis]print.

That is why my bin is empty.

The words from a coffee break –

find their way into my printing press.

Verses from poems,

mismatched typographies,

vinyl discs

and bottle caps,

if it fits  – it prints.

The result is not random, nor is it fully intentional;

I have given the control over to the press,

Because the printer is recalcitrant.

I mix alphabets, haphazardly, to form new ones,

an imperfectly contemporary family of letters - sans and serif.

Idiosyncratically I am neither artist nor craftsman

– and this isn’t even my hobby.

I experiment the unknown, playing with tools from the past,

teaching them new tricks.

Old machines – new ink.

Spontaneous, uncompromising and maximalist.

This is how I print.