The same two lobes, the same crack — but loaded differently, pressed harder, the ink given more say. Where the seventh pull found balance, this one found weight. The grain presses to the upper edges and holds there, dark and consuming, while the lower field opens gradually — both lobes dissolving at the bottom as if the slab is slowly releasing its grip on the paper. The crack between them runs white and bright against all that darkness, more pronounced here than in any other pull. The ray lines fan out across the lower right in fine, clear arcs — the wood's quietest detail visible only because everything around it went so dark. Same tree. Completely different print.
