Happiness is a Fine Art Print

Mussels are $6 a pound at Doonies on Wednesdays, so a couple of nights ago I headed off down Shaw Street in the direction of Bloor, in search of a pint of beer and some sustenance. And as I went, striding along in the evening light with fresh air in my lungs, I suddenly realised I was happy. Not just in the mundane, everyday, things-are-ok sense, but actually rejoicing, with an unfamiliar sense of renewal, of purpose, of satisfaction and fulfilment coursing through these ageing old veins of mine. There was a spring in my step, a sense of connection, that all too often is missing. And as I walked I realised where it had come from: it had come from being utterly absorbed in doing something creative. I learned an awful lot, last week, about digital printing: poring over Jeff Schewe’s The Digital Print and The Digital Negative, trying different papers and sizes, learning how to soft-proof (how had I ever printed without it!) and, in the end, producing

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