The ink never quite washed off.
Years ago I ran a small print shop. I still remember the sound of the press catching its rhythm, and the smell of fresh ink on my hands. You never forget that smell.
What stuck with me even more was the old work. Maps with every coastline cut by hand. Druggist labels set letter by letter, with borders no machine would bother with today. Those printers had no shortcuts, and it shows.
Second Printing Co. is my way back to that bench. I find real printed pieces from the 1800s in old sample books and archives, scan them at full size, and clean away a century of dust and bleed-through. Nothing is redrawn. Nothing is “reimagined.” What you get is the original printer’s work, ready to print again.
Every listing tells you the book it came from and the year. That is the second printing.





