-14 x 18” signed & numbered limited edition letterpress print from The Printed Walk series about the natural beauty found on my 2017 thru-hike of The Appalachian Trail
Why is it in the Seconds Sale? This piece was a display print and has a minor scratch marks in the top corners from the hanging clips.
Dimensions: 14 x 18”
Details:
-printed with vintage metal type and carved plywood blocks
-printed on 100% recycled paper from French Paper Co, a Michigan-based paper mill operating on 100% hydropower
Hiking context including Mileage, States, Dates, and Elevation Profile are letterpress printed on reverse of the print, as well as this inspiration story:
Good vibes with trees– thanks: Nearing the end of the trail in Maine, a dead and waterlogged tree fell on my tent in the middle of the night pinning my legs to the ground then snapping in half and crushing my stove in the vestibule inches above my head. Miraculously, I walked away without any significant scratches, but my tent was destroyed. All along the previous 2000 miles, I had been hugging trees to give them the gratitude they deserve as I traversed in this ecosystem of theirs. Could it be they were looking out for me that night in return?
-14 x 18” signed & numbered limited edition letterpress print from The Printed Walk series about the natural beauty found on my 2017 thru-hike of The Appalachian Trail
Why is it in the Seconds Sale? This piece was a display print and has a minor scratch marks in the top corners from the hanging clips.
Dimensions: 14 x 18”
Details:
-printed with vintage metal type and carved plywood blocks
-printed on 100% recycled paper from French Paper Co, a Michigan-based paper mill operating on 100% hydropower
Hiking context including Mileage, States, Dates, and Elevation Profile are letterpress printed on reverse of the print, as well as this inspiration story:
Good vibes with trees– thanks: Nearing the end of the trail in Maine, a dead and waterlogged tree fell on my tent in the middle of the night pinning my legs to the ground then snapping in half and crushing my stove in the vestibule inches above my head. Miraculously, I walked away without any significant scratches, but my tent was destroyed. All along the previous 2000 miles, I had been hugging trees to give them the gratitude they deserve as I traversed in this ecosystem of theirs. Could it be they were looking out for me that night in return?
