To quote a certain quirky Englishman, “Now for something completely different.“

It’s been a doozy of a year: launching a new business which has nothing to do with art, a subsequent hiatus in any sort of creating, and some in-depth self-discovery. I’m back at it creatively now with a fresh perspective on why I do this–because I was made to do it, and I intensely enjoy it. These types of breaks are usually pretty good for me, but this one was fueled by burnout. It has taught me some things about motivation (it should always be about the art), and joy (I should never take things too seriously). The other side of it has sent me in a whole different direction. Although I’m looking forward to what my next oil pastel work will eventually be, I’m also having a blast loosening up with an art form that is new to me.

I was introduced to ebru marbling 2021 by my friends at Little House Journals. They asked me if I’d like to try something new: making end papers for their hand-crafted journals. They sent me a kit. I immediately fell for the 800-year-old Turkish art form, that I could neither predict nor control like other mediums.



Though there is some prep with several chemicals, the process itself is fairly simple.
How it works: Acrylic paints mixed with water and gall (a thinner), are floated on a thickened “bath” of carrageenan (Irish moss) water, then they are manipulated into different patterns with rakes, combs or straws. A paper, pre-prepared with alum (aluminum sulfate), is laid face-down on the bath and the pattern is transferred. Then the paper is rinsed, dried and flattened.



Over many years I’d built up a collection of pleasing color combinations, saving them for some unknown purpose. Marbling is a playground for those colors and I. Whenever I see something colorfully inspiring, I make a note of it and add it to my color book.

Where with my fine art the result is often long labored and carefully displayed, marbled paper is purposefully practical: a marriage of art and application. It’s traditionally used to cover bookbinding stitching and glue, but it can also be used for bookmarks, stationery, even lampshades–I’ve yet to explore all the possibilities for this medium.




The technical prep must be done a day in advance, but each paper may take only minutes to print. I must work quickly before the pigments separate–forcing me to be flexible, rather than fussy. This turns out to be exactly what I need to relax and stretch creatively, without too much pressure weighing on results.
At left–an “action shot” of pigment being tapped onto a pan of bath, while a demo participant looks on.
Even with practice, I never know exactly how a paper will turn out. But that’s ok, because they are always beautiful or interesting in their own way. Most wonderfully, each piece is unique–impossible to duplicate. After some successful demos, I’m considering offering classes so others can join in. Ebru marbling is an ancient art, but its application is just as fresh and fascinating now as it was hundreds of years ago. Here’s to new adventures.

