How My Screen Prints Come to Life — Inside the Murotopia Studio
Every print begins long before the ink touches the paper.
Somewhere between observation and intuition, a shape appears — a fragment of movement, a rhythm, a microscopic structure that feels alive.
In this post, I’m sharing how each Murotopia print takes shape — from the first spark of an idea to the final layer of color.
From Observation to Composition
Most ideas come from what I see through the microscope — connections, membranes, circulations.
They’re not literal images; they’re interpretations.
What interests me is how these patterns translate into movement and balance on paper.
Back in the studio, these impressions turn into compositions.
Each print is a dialogue between what I’ve seen and what I imagine could exist just beyond it.
“I don’t paint cells. I paint what they remind me of — energy, balance, transformation.”
Preparing the Screens: Separations, Typons, Emulsion
Before any ink is printed, each color needs its own screen.
1. Color separation
The artwork is broken down into distinct layers — one per color.
This determines how the structure will build itself through printing.
2. Film positive
Each layer is printed as a high-contrast black film.
These typons define exactly where light will hit the screen.
3. Coating with emulsion
Screens are coated with a photosensitive emulsion in the dark.
Light, humidity, and timing matter — the layer must be even and clean.
4. Exposure
The screen is exposed under UV light with the positive placed on it.
Where the black blocks the light, the emulsion remains soft and washes out.
This creates the open areas where ink will pass through.
This stage is technical and sensitive — the clarity of the lines, the opacity of the film, the exposure time, and the dryness of the emulsion all influence the final print.
Building Layers, Like Time
Screen printing is a process of construction — one layer at a time.
Each color is printed separately, using its own mesh screen, so the image builds gradually, through rhythm and precision.
In the studio, I mix every color by hand, guided by both vision and experience.
Some layers are dense, others translucent, each one interacting with the paper differently.
Between humidity, drying time, and the pressure of the squeegee, the result depends on balance.
The studio becomes almost like a lab: controlled light, quiet focus, a certain temperature, the sound of ink settling.
When everything aligns — tension of the mesh, registration, timing — the print reveals its final structure.
Not by accident, but through a dialogue between material and attention.
Precision and Balance
What I love about screen printing is this constant negotiation between elements.
The ink behaves differently depending on the air, the mesh tension, or how long it’s been resting.
Registration must be exact; drying, perfectly timed.
It’s not randomness — it’s calibration.
Every print asks for its own equilibrium, and that’s what keeps the process alive and absorbing.
In a way, it’s similar to biology: systems in motion, held together by invisible parameters.
Each layer supports the next — structure and fluidity, perfectly coexisting.
How This Differs from Digital Prints
People often ask what sets a screen print apart from a digital print.
The difference is immediate when you hold one.
A digital print is flat.
A screen print has substance.
Here, every layer of color is physically deposited onto the paper.
You can see it, but more importantly, you can feel it — the density of the ink, the slight relief where layers overlap, the way the surface reacts to light.
The paper I use is thicker, more tactile, closer to the materials I choose for my paintings.
And because I mix the inks myself, the colors match my canvases:
the same pigments, the same depth, the same intensity.
It’s not a reproduction of the artwork.
It’s another version of it — built through the same attention to material and color.
This is why a screen print doesn’t feel like something that came out of a machine.
It feels like something that came out of a studio.
Limited Editions, Subtle Variations
Each print belongs to a limited series — created from the same set of screens, colors, and alignment.
They’re meant to be identical, yet small variations inevitably appear: a slightly denser layer of ink, a microscopic shift in tone, the trace of a gesture.
These nuances aren’t mistakes; they’re part of the material truth of the process.
Keeping the editions small ensures consistency and focus.
It allows me to follow each print closely, to maintain the same dialogue of precision across the whole series.
Every copy must carry the same rhythm, the same visual balance — that’s what makes a Murotopia edition cohesive.
“A print may repeat a structure, but never a moment.”
Why I Share This Process
I share this part of my work because it’s where everything connects — technique, observation, intuition.
Behind each finished piece, there’s calibration, repetition, adjustment — the quiet part that usually stays unseen.
Showing the process is a way to open that space up.
It’s not about revealing a secret, but about sharing how the image becomes stable, how matter and rhythm find balance.
That’s the essence of Murotopia: revealing the structure behind what seems effortless, and inviting others to see the life within precision.
→ Discover the Limited Editions
Text © Murotopia Studio — Eilena Braye, 2025