Skip to content

I Illustrated A Poem

February 4, 2020

Ages ago I spotted a poem by Nicolette Sowder and it resonated with me as poetry very rarely does, so I saved it. Then as with nearly everything I randomly stick on my computer, I promptly forgot I had saved it.

Which brings us up to about a week ago when I rediscovered the file on my desktop while doing some routine fluff clearing maintenance.

The past few months have been rough ones and I’m still living in a dense, anxiety filled, exhausted brain fog. As a result, I’ve been having a difficult time focusing on anything and I was going to write about that, but I don’t have it in me right now. The reason why I mention it however, is because I tend to get a lot of creative things done when I’m feeling this way, so when I re read the poem I decided to have a go at creating illustrations to accompany the words.

I tried to talk myself out of it as it was a lot of work, but I lost the battle and completed the 9 paintings last night to get the project out of my system.

This is the first time I’ve ever attempted something like this, and I am really happy with how it all came together.

I had to break the words down a bit differently than the original to suit the pictures that presented themselves on paper as I was drafting the set.

In the images I tried to incorporate British wildlife as it’s what I’m surrounded by. There is a crane fly, fireflies, slugs, snails, worms, spiders, dandelions, nettles, caterpillars, wild roses, bees and a random chrysalis like one I found in my garden last autumn.

The mother and child characters are something I have been repeating a lot in my drawing over the past couple of years. I call them Stagboos and they are nature spirits. In my mind they represent myself and my two daughters whom I encourage to have an appreciation of the natural world every chance I get.

 

May we raise children who love the unloved things-

 

The dandelion, the worms & spiderlings.

 

Children who sense the rose needs the thorn

 

& run into rainswept days

 

the same way they turn toward sun…

 

And when they’re grown & someone has to speak for those who have no voice

 

may they draw upon that wilder bond,

 

Those days of tending tender things

 

and be the ones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: