Description
“The force that through the green fuse drives the flower”
This is a large limited-edition hand-screen printed work of a stag surrounded by an oak tree with a full moon in the background.
The stag was pencil-drawn and inked by brush before being prepared for printing.
There are two colours used, red and green, and where the green overlaps the red there is a very dark green, almost black background.
The print is numbered, named and signed in pencil – it is a strictly limited edition of twenty.
The print size is A3; the mount size is 40 x 50cm. The mount colour is black and the backing board (unseen) is grey.
Paper: The print is on thick 180gsm off-white heavily textured recycled paper made from elephant poo (I kid you not). Don’t worry – it doesn’t smell!
Mounting: The print comes mounted with black mount board as per the photo and wrapped in cellophane for protection. The mount size is a standard one, so getting an off-the-shelf frame for it should be simple.
Postage is free and at present I only post to the UK.
In case you’re curious, the name of the print comes from the Dylan Thomas poem below, which was stuck in my head as I printed it!
The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.
The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman’s lime.
The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.
And I am dumb to tell the lover’s tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.
