What do you love most about block printing?
The big reveal! Lifting the paper and seeing the image for the first time. Since everything’s carved in reverse, it always feels like a surprise. I also love how physical and meditative the process is. It’s screen-free, calming, and reminds me to embrace imperfection — uneven lines, little slips, and all. I like to carve while listening to audiobooks. For this most recent project, I listened to Courting the Wild Twin by Martin Shaw and Piranesi by Susanna Clarke.

You use simple tools. What draws you to that low-fi approach?
In a world rushing toward efficiency, I like to slow things down. My process is all hands-on — carving blocks, rolling ink, pressing with a baren — and I work in batches, usually around a dozen at a time. I started selling prints at the local art walk, and a year later I had a full gallery space. My students call themselves the “linocult,” which I love.

What inspired your Check Please! pieces? Do you have a favourite?
I always have too many ideas! Narrowing it down was the challenge. Beatnik Bistro might be my fave — she’s got red lips, a nod to poetry, and my old art school haircut. Lucille’s Cantina is inspired by my Austin years and love of Tex-Mex. Each work tells a tiny story.

Humour plays a big role in your work. Why is that?
Humour is a shortcut to connection. It lets me say something real without spelling it out. My poetry, my prints, my relationships — they’re all full of jokes. It’s part of my voice.

How does poetry influence your visual art?
They’re always in dialogue. My prints often include words, and I name them like poems — Just One More, Jess is about my best friend and our old fashioned ritual. Poetry helps me honour mystery and story in my art, and printmaking helps me loosen up my poems. When I need a break from one, I turn to the other, though they always seem to sneak into each other’s work. 

What’s your ideal day in the Florida Keys?
A boat ride with my husband (he’s a fishing guide), lunch at a dockside spot with friends, then swimming at our favourite sandbar. Dolphins in the wake on the ride home. Sun-kissed skin, tired from laughing, and a late-night strawberry milkshake before bed.

Is there a visual you always return to in your work?
Tropical foliage. I take early morning walks and the way the leaves unfurl in the light never fails to move me. Even when I try not to include plants — they sneak in.

Do you remember the first piece that felt like you?
Yes — Beach Rd. It’s an aerial view of my old neighbourhood with little nods to our community, my dog and neighbourhood lore. And, of course, plants.

Lastly: what’s your go-to diner order?
That would have to be what my mother-in-law Carolyn and I call A Nice Piece of Fish, which is exactly what it sounds like: a fresh piece of fish with some kind of lemony buttery garlic sauce and a bitter green. And when I’m not being fancy, I love nachos and a margarita.

P.S. Valerie’s debut poetry collection, Neon Pastoral, winner of the Richard Snyder Book Prize, comes out September 25. Find it online at valerieperreault.com or at your local bookstore.