about two years ago, i was selling linocut prints at renegade craft fair. at one point, a customer had selected a print. as i was packing it up for her, i noticed an inky fingerprint at the bottom. i said, “oh, this one has a fingerprint. let me find a better for you.” to which she responded, “no! i like the fingerprint on it! it makes it more personal.”

perhaps there was a certain aesthetic quality to the fingerprint, but that wasn’t the beauty that she saw in it. what was beautiful to her was what the fingerprint was communicating. the story that there was a real person who had actual contact with the piece, who had poured something of themselves into the work. that fingerprint was the residue of a human connection. and it was beautiful.