Emmonsail's Heath in Winter Print by Jamie Poole
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£27.49
£27.49
per item
This is a collage artwork based on the poem by Northamptonshire Artist John Clare (1793-1864) called 'Emmonsails Heath in Winter'.
Jamie has made this artwork after visiting a snowy and still landscape in Northamptonshire. This 'painting' was made using the printed words of the poem with his collage technique known as 'text painting'. Words were cut, torn and layered to evoke the beauty of the wildlife and countryside surrounding his home in the United Kingdom.
This print has been signed by the artist and was printed on quality A3 paper of 350gsm. There is a white border surrounding the printed area making it ready for framing.
Price includes shipping costs
Jamie has made this artwork after visiting a snowy and still landscape in Northamptonshire. This 'painting' was made using the printed words of the poem with his collage technique known as 'text painting'. Words were cut, torn and layered to evoke the beauty of the wildlife and countryside surrounding his home in the United Kingdom.
This print has been signed by the artist and was printed on quality A3 paper of 350gsm. There is a white border surrounding the printed area making it ready for framing.
Price includes shipping costs
Emmonsail's Heath in Winter Print by Jamie Poole
The Nene Valley stretches from West Northamptonshire all the way through Peterborough and has the Nene river flowing through it. The landscape is surrounded by lush farmland and old villages with hidden footpaths connecting them together. Jamie has always used this landscape as the basis for his artwork showing the wildlife and hills of his home.
Jamie's 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 his work which often uses words poetry. The lines of various poems have been woven into his 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 Jamie's artwork on a daily basis as he lives right on the edge of a stunning nature reserve near the towns of Higham Ferrers, Irthlingborough and Rushden.
Greetings Cards, Signed Prints and original artworks are available on these pages.
"Emmonsail's Heath in Winter"
by John Clare (1793-1864)
I love to see the old heath's withered brake
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze and ling,
While the old heron from the lonely lake
Starts slow and flaps his melancholy wing,
And oddling crow in idle motions swing
On the half rotten ashtree's topmost twig,
Beside whose trunk the gipsy makes his bed.
Up flies the bouncing woodcock from the brig
Where a black quagmire quakes beneath the tread,
The fieldfares chatter in the whistling thorn
And for the awe round fields and closen rove,
And coy bumbarrels twenty in a drove
Flit down the hedgerows in the frozen plain
And hang on little twigs and start again.
Jamie's 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 his work which often uses words poetry. The lines of various poems have been woven into his 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 Jamie's artwork on a daily basis as he lives right on the edge of a stunning nature reserve near the towns of Higham Ferrers, Irthlingborough and Rushden.
Greetings Cards, Signed Prints and original artworks are available on these pages.
"Emmonsail's Heath in Winter"
by John Clare (1793-1864)
I love to see the old heath's withered brake
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze and ling,
While the old heron from the lonely lake
Starts slow and flaps his melancholy wing,
And oddling crow in idle motions swing
On the half rotten ashtree's topmost twig,
Beside whose trunk the gipsy makes his bed.
Up flies the bouncing woodcock from the brig
Where a black quagmire quakes beneath the tread,
The fieldfares chatter in the whistling thorn
And for the awe round fields and closen rove,
And coy bumbarrels twenty in a drove
Flit down the hedgerows in the frozen plain
And hang on little twigs and start again.
