TINY PRINT MACHINE
Tiny Print Machine is a vintage coin-operated dispenser filled with small, original art prints, each one made by hand and pulled from whatever I'm currently inspired by.
Load a coin, turn the dial, and out comes a tiny piece of original art. No two batches are ever quite the same. The machine gets refilled regularly with new work, so returning visitors find something different every time.
TPM travels! It's available for special events, from pop-ups to grand openings and weddings, or for month-long residencies in high-traffic third spaces like coffee shops, studios, and community gathering spots. Wherever it lands, it becomes a small, tactile moment in someone's day. A bit of unexpected art in a place they already love.
Interested in hosting Tiny Print Machine at your space or event? Inquire here.
WEDDINGS + SPECIAL EVENTS
FOR YOUR DAY
Something old, something new. A vintage machine, dispensing custom stickers, temporary tattoos, or prints. A unique addition to weddings, and just as at home at showers, pop-ups, and other celebrations. Inquire about renting the machine.
THIRD SPACE RESIDENCIES
IN YOUR SPACE
Month-long placements built for coffee shops, studios, and community spots, becoming a small, tactile moment in someone's regular day. Inquire about hosting the machine.
SHOP PRINTS
AND HOME
Can't catch the machine in person? Bring a piece into your home instead. Shop the same original, hand-drawn prints from my STUDIO.
The Story Behind It
Tiny Print Machine started as a way to bring my hands back into my work. So much of what I do lives on a screen, and somewhere along the way I missed the feeling of actually making something, ink, paper, a print pulled by hand instead of pixels arranged on a grid.
I wanted a practice that stayed rooted in place. Not abstract inspiration pulled from somewhere else, but the high desert light outside my window, the particular quiet of a landscape that asks you to slow down and actually look at it. The prints became a way of paying closer attention to where I actually live, and finding real enjoyment in letting that place shape the work instead of working against it.
The vending machine format came later, as an experiment, then it stuck. There's something right about original art living inside something ordinary, a little bit of surprise and tactile joy dropped into someone's regular day.