Why I Don't Print Anymore

I spent most of my working life in commercial printing, running litho presses, large-format inkjets and digital presses. I sold that business in 2017, spent five years as International Head of Marketing for the company that bought it, and left to engrave wood full time. I haven't looked back once.

From Litho Presses to a Non-Compete Clause

I worked for, then owned, a commercial printing business in Crewe. We ran the full range: litho presses for the big offset runs, large-format inkjets for banners and signage, digital presses for shorter runs and variable data. It was a proper print business, and for a long time it was a good one.

In 2017 I ran into financial difficulties and sold the business for a nominal fee to a larger international printing group. I stayed on afterwards, and ended up spending five years as their International Head of Marketing.

Starting Cherry Grove Craft wasn't part of some grand plan. I wanted something to top up my pension, and my contract meant I wasn't allowed to compete with the business I'd just sold — printing was off the table. Engraving wasn't. I checked with the CEO directly, just to be sure I wasn't stepping on anything, and got a clear green light. Six months later, I left to do it full time.

What's Actually in Commercial Printing

People assume print and engraving are basically the same job with different tools. They're not, and the difference is most of what changed my mind for good.

Litho printing runs on a fountain solution that typically contains isopropyl alcohol to keep the non-image areas of the plate clean — a solvent, evaporating into the air of the pressroom, run after run. The inks themselves are usually built on a mineral oil base, carrying pigment that has to dry or cure once it's on the substrate, often with heat or UV lamps burning through electricity all day. Getting a plate ready in the first place, on the older analogue kit I cut my teeth on, meant chemical developers and fixers — proper photographic chemistry, with proper photographic waste.

Large-format inkjet isn't much cleaner. Even the "eco-solvent" inks marketed as a greener option still carry volatile organic compounds, and UV-cured inks bring their own concern: uncured monomer, off-gassing as the ink sits. Digital presses swap the ink for toner — fine plastic particles, fused to the paper with heat and pressure, with ozone thrown off by the corona charging that puts the image there in the first place.

None of this makes printing evil. It makes good print, printed properly, at scale, with the volumes I was running. But it also means a pressroom smells the way a pressroom smells, hazardous waste needs a licensed collection, and everyone working the floor is breathing solvent all shift.

A laser engraver needs none of it. There's no ink, no solvent, no plate chemistry, no toner, no curing lamp. The laser marks the material directly — it doesn't add a layer on top of it that can peel, fade, or need reapplying. What goes into my workshop is a sheet of oak veneered MDF, solid oak, FSC-certified bamboo, birch plywood or slate, and what comes out is the finished piece. Nothing else changes hands.

What I Didn't Expect

I didn't get into this for the environmental angle, if I'm honest. What actually surprised me was how it felt to work with wood instead of paper and ink. There's something about a natural material that print never had for me.

The bigger surprise was the customers. In print, most of the work I quoted came down to price — people comparing three suppliers on a spreadsheet and going with whoever was cheapest that week. It's an entirely reasonable way to buy print, but it isn't a very warm way to run a business. Cherry Grove Craft customers are a different crowd. Kinder, more thoughtful, more likely to tell me what the piece is actually for and why it matters to them. I don't know if that's the material, the personalisation, or just a different kind of buyer altogether — but it's been the best part of the change, by some distance.

What I Don't Miss

I don't miss the smell of solvent. I don't miss the never-ending business of colour management — proofing, re-proofing, chasing a Pantone match through yet another press run, colour drifting slightly every time. And I don't miss a payroll bill that had to be met every single month whether the work was there or not.

What I have now is the smell of freshly cut oak, and a workshop two metres from my own front door.

Frequently Asked Questions

Does laser engraving fade the way printed signage does?
No — because there's no ink sitting on the surface to fade, chip or peel. The laser marks the material itself, so the result is as permanent as the material it's engraved into.

Can you engrave in full colour, like a printed sign?
No, and I won't pretend otherwise. Engraving works in the natural tone of the material — the contrast between burnt and unburnt wood — rather than full colour reproduction. If a design genuinely needs multi-colour photographic detail, printing is the right tool for that job, not engraving.

Is engraving more expensive than printing?
For a one-off, sometimes. For anything durable or long-lasting — a keyring that's handled daily, a sign that gets touched dozens of times a day on a door or desk, a badge that needs to survive years of wear — engraving usually wins on total cost, because nothing needs replacing when the ink gives out. Everything we make is for indoor use, which is exactly the environment where this kind of durability matters most: constant handling rather than weathering.

What materials do you engrave?
FSC-certified oak veneered MDF, solid oak, FSC-certified Moso bamboo, birch plywood, and natural slate. No inks, no laminates, no coatings.

Also see: our wooden signs, hotel and hospitality signage, and eco-friendly wooden gifts collections.