I began printing limited edition books in 1990, and for the first five years I did what I thought one was supposed to do when one started a press: I printed the works of celebrated dead writers. But as challenging as that process was – I was juggling the tasks of editor, artist, letterpress printer, designer, typographer, bookbinder, salesperson, and accountant – I began to feel restless. The romantic, beautifully illustrated books that I’d been producing bore little relation to my own life as a struggling artist in the East Village, and I sensed that there was more of myself that I could bring to the process.