If you walked in on me unawares while I was running the press, you'd likely see me lost in a strange machine-assisted rhythmic hip side-stepping hand-cranking press dance. The hum and click of the printing process is music, the repetition, a back beat. I get to going on it, feeding thousands of pages through the grippers, and I just can't help but move to the sounds. I dance with the printing press. Call me crazy. And, thank the Lord in High Heavens, I got back on press this week! Thanks to a talented local shop-owner, I got to put on my dancing shoes and printing apron to help out with a few things. Arm sore from the motion, fingers blistered from the redundant turning, I am delightfully exhausted, and pleased as punch to be able to have my hand in this.
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