The Story Behind Wooden Ink
Every tree spends its lifetime writing an autobiography in wood. Its rings record years of growth, its cracks and scars mark what it has endured, and its shape reflects the life it lived.
I make original hand-pulled prints from reclaimed tree slabs, preserving those marks on paper and giving trees that might otherwise disappear another way to tell their stories.
Wooden Ink grew from a fascination with trees that I’ve carried since childhood — and from the belief that the imperfect parts are often the most interesting ones.
As a little girl, I would stand beneath the towering white pines at my grandparents’ farm in Verner, Ontario, look up into their branches and wonder what kinds of lives those giant trees had lived. What they'd seen.
That sense of wonder never left me.
As I grew older, wonder became respect. I came to appreciate not only the beauty of trees, but their quiet strength, resilience and generosity. They clean our air and provide us with oxygen, they shelter wildlife, shade our summers, they build and heat our homes, and often outlive generations of people. Long after we are gone, they continue telling their stories. I've stood among the trees so many times, wondering about each of their stories.
Then my own story changed...
...In the summer of 2025, Lyme disease forced me to slow… way… down; it deeply impacted every facet of my life, and continues to do so. During my recovery, I found myself returning to the quiet lessons of the trees. They do not hide the years that were hardest on them. They carry them. Every season—good and bad—becomes part of the story written within their rings.
Not every tree has perfect rings. Some reveal periods of struggle followed by years of healthy growth. While searching for my new identity, I found myself seeing my own story in those rings. The first time I pulled a tree-ring print, I realized I was not simply revealing rings. I was revealing a whole life story.
Every ring marks another season.
Another challenge.
Another year of growth.
That is why tree rings speak to me. They remind me that the hardest seasons are never the whole story.
The tree wrote the first draft. I’m simply getting it down in ink.
Lyanne Goulin
Founder & Chief Storyteller
From Tree to Print
Ever wonder how reclaimed wood becomes an original hand-pulled print? It starts with a rough slab and ends with the reveal.
Preparing the Slab
Once a piece of reclaimed wood makes its way to the studio, it’s cut to reveal the cross-section that will become the printing surface.
Sanding the Slab
After hours of sanding, the surface is smoothed, removing saw marks and irregularities so the tree’s rings can make clean, even contact with the paper.
Revealing the Rings
The slab is torched, burning away the softer earlywood and bringing the denser latewood into relief, creating the surface that will hold the ink.
Inking the Slab
A thin layer of ink is rolled directly onto the prepared slab. The raised latewood catches the ink, transforming the tree itself into the printing plate.
Pulling the Print
The paper is carefully laid over the inked slab, then burnished by hand. Pressure transfers the tree’s rings, cracks and imperfections onto the paper.
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The Reveal
Then comes the reveal. The paper is lifted from the slab, exposing an original impression of the tree's rings. No two prints are ever exactly alike.
Why Hand-Pulled?
Every Wooden Ink print begins with a reclaimed tree and is hand-pulled from the original slab.
The Original Slab
The slab is the original manuscript. Carefully cut from reclaimed timber. Every print is one interpretation of the story it spent a lifetime writing.
Hand-Pulled
Every print is inked and pulled by hand using the original slab. No digital reproductions. No automated printing. Each pull carries the subtle character of the process.
Every Print is Unique
No two prints are exactly alike. Because your print is hand-pulled from reclaimed timber, the slight variations in ink, pressure and printing combine naturally to make your print uniquely yours.