Introducing texture to Photography
What is seen gives way to what is felt.
The print holds more than the image alone.

Texture introduces imperfection, resistance, and dimension.
Light and time no longer rest on the surface, they move through it.
This is an experimental, alternative printing process. Results are most of the time inconsistent, favouring difference ove

- Clarity is set aside.
- Sharpness loosens.
- Meaning is not fixed
- Mood carries the work.
- The viewer completes it.

Introducing texture to Photographic prints is like sculpting a surface using archival, acid-free materials.
The results remain partly unpre-dictable, practice brings some control, but not knowing is what keeps me engaged.
Warning:
These techniques ca

Sometimes I build from scrap.
I cut, rip, shred any acid-free paper, then layer it in varying shapes, patterns, and directions, guided by the image I plan to print. Acid-free glue holds the sheet together, and I carefully manage its thickness and wei

Sheets take standard forms A4, A3, A3t, A2. They are flattened and left to bond, creating a stable surface for further layers of emulsionsions

Once dry and flat, Gesso is layered over the sheet. It pro-tects, stabilises, and introduces texture. Application can be with brushes or any object that leaves or not a mark.

After the Gesso stage, the sheets are left to dry for a day or two.
They then go under carpet for a day, allowing the surface to settle and flatten again. Once done, a final layer of InkAid is applied, an emulsion that turns the surface into one rece

So far I' ve described only the paper preparation and building the structure of each sheet. Each layer needs time to dry before the next, rushing them can cause surfaces to bubble up, and you might not like it.
It's all about experimenting, but alway

The Core of the Process
I should have mentioned the obvious upfront.
The work begins with photography.
Without the raw material, there is nothing to work with. The camera and the act of capturing sit at the heart of the process, usually at the beginn

Drawn to unconventional methods, each photograph is an opportunity to explore and discover new possibilities.
Built on many experiences and influ-ences, the images that emerge are a blend, a mix and interpretation rather than factual documentation.
I

So far, a few layers have been added to the pure cotton-based pa-per, it' s dry and as flat as it gets.
At this stage, the sheet can already be printed on, technically on any paper could be printed, but I choose to add a further layer of emulsion for

A final emulsion layer of, InkAid, is added, a layer that holds the pigment.
On mass-produced photographic paper, this layer is applied evenly in a highly controlled way, producing consistent, identical masters.

Exploring InkAid Emulsions

InkAid emulsions come in many shades, each with its own characteristics. They are not cheap, and the help line once reminded me: this is an experimental process, the outcome depends entirely on how you work. The only guar

Iam not sponsoredby InkAid, though I wish I were, it would allow more experimentation with theirtools. I' ve
been describing my way of making prints. If it works for you, great; if not, the only advice I can repeat is:
"this is experimental."

It' s not as straightforward as it looks. Avoid creating very thick tex-tures, the printer will struggle and will get damaged. There' s about
2 mm of layers to work with. Limits encourage different thinking, which I see as a challenge. I prefer my pr

This is an ongoing process, not a fixed method.
So far it covers the construction of a unique, archival, acid-free sheet of paper, ready for print. The remaining stages: printing, retouch-ing, varnishing, bonding, and fram-ing, complete the work and

If you have questions or obser-vations, feel free to get in touch.
Exchange is part of how the work evolves.
Sharing knowledge
matters ideas often come from unexpected places.

Process Journal — Introducing Texture to Photography

This work begins with a simple question: what happens when a photographic print stops behaving like a smooth surface and starts acting like a material object? Texture shifts attention from what is seen to what is felt. The print starts to carry more than the image itself. Light no longer sits cleanly on top; it breaks, settles, and moves through the surface. Time becomes part of the material rather than something outside it.

The process is experimental and alternative by nature. Results are rarely consistent. Difference is preferred over uniformity. Clarity softens, sharpness loosens, and meaning stays open. Mood carries the work forward, and the viewer completes it through looking. The surface is built slowly. I often start from scrap, cutting, ripping, and reassembling acid-free papers. Layers are arranged in response to the image I plan to print, not as decoration but as structure. Acid-free glue binds everything together. Thickness and weight are controlled carefully, knowing that more layers will follow. Sheets are built to standard sizes and left to bond and flatten. Once stable, gesso is applied. Sometimes it’s brushed evenly, sometimes not. Any tool that leaves a mark, or avoids one is valid. The sheets dry for a day or two, then rest under carpet to settle again. This back-and-forth between building and flattening repeats throughout the process. A final emulsion layer is added to make the surface receptive to inkjet printing. Pigment printers are essential here, both for durability and image quality. At this point, only the paper exists, the image comes later. Each layer needs time. Rushing leads to bubbling, cracking, or failure. Everything used is archival and acid-free, which adds cost, but also responsibility. Each sheet is treated as a finished object before it ever carries an image. Once dry, the surface can already be printed on. Technically, printing can happen on almost anything. I add another emulsion layer for longevity, stability, and the way it holds pigment.

The core of the work still sits with photography. Without the captured image, there is nothing to build on. The camera usually comes first, sometimes re-entering later. I’m drawn to unconventional approaches, not to reject photography, but to stretch it. The images that emerge are shaped by experience and influence, but they remain interpretations rather than documents. There is no single method. Each photograph and print evolves through trial, adjustment, and response.

Back in the print stage, emulsions come with their own limits. There are many types, each behaving differently. When I contacted InkAid, the message was direct: this is an experimental process, and outcomes depend entirely on how you work. No profiles, no guarantees beyond archival stability with pigment printers. That honesty mattered.

I’m not sponsored. What’s described here is simply how I work. If it’s useful, good. If not, the same advice applies: this is experimental.

There are practical limits. Heavy texture will cause problems. Printers are not built for deep relief. Around 2 mm of layered depth is workable. Beyond that, failure is likely. Those limits shape decisions. I tend towards subtlety. The work isn’t meant to reveal itself immediately. It asks for time. The longer you look, the more it gives back. This is an ongoing process rather than a fixed method. What’s described here so far covers the construction of a unique, archival, acid-free sheet of paper, prepared and ready for print. The remaining and equally important stages—printing, retouching, varnishing, bonding, and framing—complete the work and play a key role in its final appearance and long-term durability. These will be added in the near future.

If you have questions, observations, or want to discuss any part of the process in more detail, feel free to get in touch. Exchange is part of how the work continues to evolve. I believe in sharing knowledge, as one never knows where an idea might come from.