FORM 4 — COLOPHON
| ˈkä·lə·fän |
noun
1
a statement at the end of a book giving information about its authorship and printing — the page where the press signs its work.
2
a printer’s emblem or device; the maker’s mark.
3
(this site) the page where the printing press shows what it is made of, and thanks the fires it borrowed.
ORIGIN — Greek kolophōn: summit, finishing touch.
A colophon is where a press admits what it is made of. Mine is made of borrowed objects — every mechanic on this site is something real, lifted with permission from my own life. Set in Solique & Portia on cream stock; body in Darker Grotesque, stamps in Space Mono. Papers, plates, foxing & roller grain from my flat files, collected years before there was a site to spend them on. Pressed at a kitchen table in rural New Brunswick, re-inked each season, one letter per new moon. No popups, ever.
THE LINEAGE — WHERE EACH PART WAS STRUCK FROM
THE HOPE CHEST
a cedar chest at the foot of a bed — furniture for a life still arriving. Mine held quilts, then decks. Now this.
THE BRAYER
printmaking’s honest tool. Ink rolled by hand; no two pulls alike, and the misses stay in the edition
THE SEASON RE-INK
the year as a wheel, not a line — the same press running four pigments, the way a life runs four weathers
THE LETTERS
mail that waits for the moon instead of the marketing calendar. Thirteen a year, because the sky says so
THE FOXING
old paperbacks loved past their bindings — age as proof of being kept, never of being forgotten
THE PLATES & CORNERS
field guides that tipped their engravings in by hand, four photo corners to a plate
THE POSTER TYPE
1970s national-park press kits — a ranger’s signage: tall, plain-spoken, weatherproof
THE CENSUS
small-town road signs that count the dogs. Population honesty
THE WATERMARK
topographic maps of rural New Brunswick, held up to the light behind everything
THE FOLD & FOLIOS
the imposition sheet — a page that is honest about being printed, crop marks and all
THE PINBOARD — THINGS THAT LIT THE LAMP
the deck on my kitchen table. The Fool got a dog this spring — she walked in during inking and stayed.
1970s national-park brochures: stripe cascades, honest maps, type that survives weather
the original — wood, brass, a folded life inside. This whole site is its drawer
population signs, gravel shoulders, contour lines. The paper everything here is printed on.
distribution, deadline, and editor. Thirteen issues a year, no extensions granted
plates tipped in with corners, marginalia in pencil, foxing earned honestly
Same stone. Turned.
THE RULES OF THE HOUSE
✳ no popups, ever
✳ a quiet week is a designed state, not a failure
✳ compost is an honest fourth state
✳ everything can be an art