Laying gold leaf on paper that moves

Gold leaf wants a still, sized surface. A banknote is the opposite: cotton and linen fibre, printed under pressure, and still faintly alive to humidity years after it left the mint. Lay leaf on it carelessly and it lifts within a week.

So the size goes on thin and in stages, and the note is weighted flat between each one. I work in the morning, before the room warms up. The leaf is cut smaller than you would expect — a large piece will always find a fibre to bridge and tear across.

When it holds, it holds for good. The gilded areas sit a fraction proud of the printed surface, which is why these pieces read so differently under raking light than they do in a photograph.