The name started with my father, Bob Nugent, the artist.
He taught printmaking for decades — at the College of the Siskiyous, and later Sonoma State University. Colleges didn't have professional printers on staff, so his students became the printmakers. He hired them by the hour to work the press.
What did they print? Their own work — their own point of view. Sometimes just theirs; often layered with others', building on each other's pieces. They took something to start with and refined it — combining, editing, developing — until it said what they wanted it to say. What they were really doing was shaping a piece of work until it could resonate with the audience they were trying to reach.
Every year, the best of them graduated, left for grad school, and abandoned him and the press. So he'd hire the next round. And they'd abandon him too. Eventually he just named the press after the joke.
Turns out that's exactly what modern communications is.
Media isn't one-way anymore. One shop, one channel, one message pushed out at scale — that model got abandoned when the audience stopped listening to it. What replaced it is what Bob was doing in his print studio: layered work, brought together by the right people, refined until it reaches the audiences that matter with something that resonates enough to stick.
His press got abandoned. Mine runs with abandon. I bring the pieces together — narrative, voice, presence, reputation — and make the story whole enough to reach, be relevant, and resonate.
