April 2023

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Hang on Studio Wall
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You understood better than I did, Gala :) Your painting brought to mind Elderflower florets in the rain  Bill, its a delightful observation of nature, isn't it, and Gerard's keen eye for the not so obvious beauty shines out in this line.  'for rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim' Brilliant.

Edited
by Carol Jones

Carol your lovely gallery has disappeared ?
You understood better than I did, Gala :) Your painting brought to mind Elderflower florets in the rain  Bill, its a delightful observation of nature, isn't it, and Gerard's keen eye for the not so obvious beauty shines out in this line.  'for rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim' Brilliant.
Carol Jones on 31/03/2023 04:37:25
Carol, yes, I love that line too. I can't get to the end of that poem without tears welling up. Manley Hopkins was a keen observer of nature, as is also evident in some of his other poems, like The Windhover, Binsey Poplars and God's Grandeur. He almost paints with words, splashing strong visual images onto the page.
Carol your lovely gallery has disappeared ?
Sylvia Evans on 31/03/2023 07:27:52 OH! I didn't think anyone would be in there looking, now. I often do this, Sylvia, and start afresh. You got me back in to posting my work, when you made a request, and I must admit I enjoyed it :) Make no mistake I appreciate everyone who popped in and left a comment. No offence intended by doing this. My apologies to all. I'll be doing some new paintings so will be starting again. Thank you Sylvia.  
You understood better than I did, Gala :) Your painting brought to mind Elderflower florets in the rain  Bill, its a delightful observation of nature, isn't it, and Gerard's keen eye for the not so obvious beauty shines out in this line.  'for rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim' Brilliant.
Carol Jones on 31/03/2023 04:37:25
Carol, yes, I love that line too. I can't get to the end of that poem without tears welling up. Manley Hopkins was a keen observer of nature, as is also evident in some of his other poems, like The Windhover, Binsey Poplars and God's Grandeur. He almost paints with words, splashing strong visual images onto the page.
Bill Downie on 31/03/2023 09:55:31
A timely reminder to get the poetry books back out, Bill. You're right when you say about the visual images. And doesn't it look good by presenting a thread on a painting site that embraces the two.
I agree Carol. Art is a kind of poetry without words, distilling the essence of a scene into an arresting image. The two go very well together. I did a painting for my brother once of a carboniferous forest and wrote a poem to go with it, which a friend then blended into one image. My computer crashed and I lost it, but I think the two can enhance each other. 
It would have been nice to have seen your painting and poem together. When these computers go, they go bigtime, data transfer is costly enough, but data recovery is an expensive job.  

Edited
by Carol Jones

Dawn’s forum challenge for April to paint a picture inspired by the poem she posted seems to have got a bit lost in all the posts that followed, so here it is again - with my attempt at illustrating it.

Edited
by Jenny Harris

You have illustrated it beautifully, Jenny.
Thank you, Denise.  It’s a very descriptive poem.

Edited
by Jenny Harris

It would have been nice to have seen your painting and poem together. When these computers go, they go bigtime, data transfer is costly enough, but data recovery is an expensive job.  
Carol Jones on 31/03/2023 16:04:32
I can't show you the painting, but here's the poem I wrote. It's about a steamy forest in the Carboniferous period (ca 350M years ago, which produced all the coal we have now), with 3ft wingspan dragonflies and primitive reptiles. It won't win any prizes but it captures my yearning to see those ancient forests. A Love Poem for Mother Earth in Her Youth Mist-filtered sunlight, haze-softened canopy, warm, nurturing moistness below. Slothful creatures bellowing their languid song, over turgid, moonlit waters. Primal, innocent world, fresher than dew, sharper than a sting, each day blindly generating, the wonder I seek. How often I've longed, to hear you sing your far song, and gaze upon your wild, exotic face. BD I was a great fan of the art of Rudolph Zallinger, who illustrated my favourite dinosaur books. The man was a genius. Here's one of his illustrations for Dinosaurs, and Other Prehistoric Creatures. These thrilled me as a boy and got me into art. t
My interpretation of the poem posted by the team. Unfortunately, my rainbow hasn't shown up very well in the photo as it was very subtle and because I've been painting today, then drawing, my eyes are to bleary to put another streak of colour through. I have been taking photos of rainbows for about a year and the sky is always dark above the rainbow and bright, directly beneath. I'll paint one, one day.

Edited
by Denise Cat

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