The Winter's Spring
The Winter's Spring Print
Signed poster print 42 cm x 29.7 cm A3 sized (including a white Boarder)
On 300gsm paper with a silk finish. Yum!
This is a 'painting' made using collage techniques from the words of the famous 'Northamptonshire peasant poet' John Clare. To make this artwork I printed the poem in a range an up to date and trendy colours and then cut, ripped, arranged and glued the words into these inspired designs.
My inspiration comes from nature and the wonderful linocut printmaking that I admire. The words of the poem add a bit more magic to my imagination and allow you to see into the world of the poet and me - the artist!
I hope you love this design and would love to find out how it looks on the wall of your home too!
My artwork frequently uses a range of mixed media techniques that have also incorporated words. In recent years this has become more important and now collage is a major part of my work which often uses words poetry. The lines of various poems have been woven into this imagery - segments of which can be read.
The wide range of habitats such as wildflower meadows, wetlands, marshes, woodlands and wet grasslands are full of a diverse range of animals and birds. These offer endless inspiration for my artwork on a daily basis as I live right on the edge of a stunning nature reserve near the towns of Higham Ferrers, Irthlingborough and Rushden.
The Winter's Spring
The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please--no bees to hum--
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.
I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.
I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.
It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring--the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring.