Case 011

the secret files of new york art detective

Walter Lin P.I.

The Boston Trio

The last few weeks have been good—better than good. There’s been focus, momentum, and just enough chaos to keep things interesting. I’ve been pouring myself into developing a series of works for the Boston Tea Party coffee shop here in Honiton, the town I call home. Producing series like this hits a rhythm I can’t help but chase. There’s something about watching pieces unfold at their own tempo—some charging ahead, others meandering down dead ends before doubling back. But in the end, they’ve all landed somewhere that feels right.

This trio has been no exception. Each piece carries its own weight, its own story, but together they speak in a language that feels complete. Along the way, I’ve dipped into my stash of letratone—a relic of the analogue world. Monochrome patterns on adhesive paper, each one a fragment of a time when process was tangible, tactile. I picked them up years ago, second-hand, from an art sale that seemed to be holding its breath. I love them for what they are—awesome, grounded, and finite. There’s a strange kind of freedom in limitation when you know exactly what you have to work with. My stash numbers maybe 80, and each one feels like a treasure.

Grain and Contemplation

One of the pieces, Contemplation, has been a chance to try something different. Wood has a character paper can’t touch—textures that shift under the light, grains that tell stories of growth and time. This softwood ply I’ve used is no exception. The grain sings in tandem with the letratone, the two elements weaving together like they were meant to meet all along. There’s a richness here, a balance between the old and the organic, and it feels like just the right foundation for this work.

Printing on wood, pulling these three pieces into the light—it’s been work, no doubt about it. But it’s the kind of work that reminds me why I do this. Every dead end, every layer of process, every fragment of letratone—it all adds up to something bigger. And seeing it come together for Boston’s front room, visible from the street? That’s worth every ounce of effort.