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Bokashi

04.06.2026

It was a sunny afternoon on Lake Michigan in late May. I was on a ferry, returning to the mainland shore of northwest Michigan from South Manitou Island, when I saw something noteworthy. It was an opaque, disk-shaped cloud hovering just above the water’s surface. I snapped a picture of it, which became the inspiration for the woodblock print below.

I thought the cloud in the photograph looked like a flying saucer, though the resulting artwork, ‘Presence,‘ ultimately took on its own look and meaning.

Presence
Woodblock Print 2014
10.25” x 14”

One of the beautiful techniques in mokuhanga (this Japanese art form) is the ability to paint on the block so that the colors seamlessly transition from dark to light. It takes practice, patience, and repetition, all of which require significant focus. But when you can slow down and take the time to make it work, it can truly make a picture sing.

The technique is called bokashi.

The bokashi process, including its limitations, influenced the appearance of this image beyond what I had in my mind’s eye. I went with the flow, so to speak. The flying saucer didn’t appear, but there was some sort of presence—something like a ‘Presence through Absence.’

The white in the middle of the print is only the color of the paper. There is nothing there, yet it feels like there is. And it is the feeling that matters. It’s always the feeling that matters. That’s what makes art, art.

For me, this image means different things every time I see it, or even think about it. Even after all these years. Or maybe I should say, especially after all these years.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed that people treat me differently. Not everyone, of course, but overall, I feel less visible than I used to. It’s not exactly a pleasant feeling, and I wonder if I’ve unknowingly slighted elders in my life in the same way. 

I look at the void in the middle of this print and think about people who are now absent, but still present, because I am thinking about them. 

I silently offer my gratitude and ask for forgiveness, as the cycles from youth to old age and darkness to light continue.

And in mystery and wonder, I think about the ever-changing clouds near and far, high and low, and how the earth keeps floating and spinning, season after season, no matter what.