A four-year-old’s dream about waiting to be born leads us into a morning of Face-to-Face, wolf-pup smiles, missing ears, John Lennon, turning wheels, and the practice of attunement: seeing, listening, returning, and delighting in finding one another.
Tag Archives: Heidelberg Press
Watching the Wheels
What happens when the tools meant to make life more accessible begin demanding more of the life they are supposed to serve? From an iPhone Shortcut to a Heidelberg press, a 700-foot Ferris wheel, songs remembered from childhood, and an afternoon spent holding our sons, we found ourselves asking a different question: What is the work of our life—and what happens when we stop chasing the wheels and simply take care of our children?
Nothing Is Counting on This
What does functional multiplicity look like when nobody is asking us to perform? On Han’s Day, a frightening morning gives way to Braided Bridge, where a two-foot wheel on a Heidelberg press turns quietly beneath the memory of a 700-foot Ferris wheel we once hoped could help solve the housing crisis. Maybe the best things—the true things—really do start small.
The Press Doesn’t Feel Like a Machine
Two mornings after a flood becomes a day of Rolling Stones, a Heidelberg printing press, watercolor, laughter, and Lake Blue. On Proverb’s Day, we discover something about plurality, creative agency, accessibility, and different people remaining different while accomplishing something together.
