Pine with Cone
4×6 linocut black ink print, with red stamped logo, on archival cardstock. I ship these in clear plastic with a hard back, inside a rigid mailer.
I make my linocut prints by hand carving the reverse of an image on a linoleum block. Then I use this block to stamp the image onto a page.
I ship these in clear plastic with a hard back, inside a rigid mailer.
———
Under the pines, on a summer’s day,
I list to a whisper from far away.
And, lying low, with my half-closed eyes,
Behold the beauty of fairer skies.
Some say ’tis the sound of the sighing sea,
Whose distant murmer steals over me;
Some say ’tis the baby breeze instead,
That rocks in the branches overhead;
But I know it is neither wave nor breeze,
On shining sands and in leafy trees;
’Tis the music sweet of a voice divine,
That whispers peace to each pensive pine.
-Kate Louise Wheeler
4×6 linocut black ink print, with red stamped logo, on archival cardstock. I ship these in clear plastic with a hard back, inside a rigid mailer.
I make my linocut prints by hand carving the reverse of an image on a linoleum block. Then I use this block to stamp the image onto a page.
I ship these in clear plastic with a hard back, inside a rigid mailer.
———
Under the pines, on a summer’s day,
I list to a whisper from far away.
And, lying low, with my half-closed eyes,
Behold the beauty of fairer skies.
Some say ’tis the sound of the sighing sea,
Whose distant murmer steals over me;
Some say ’tis the baby breeze instead,
That rocks in the branches overhead;
But I know it is neither wave nor breeze,
On shining sands and in leafy trees;
’Tis the music sweet of a voice divine,
That whispers peace to each pensive pine.
-Kate Louise Wheeler
4×6 linocut black ink print, with red stamped logo, on archival cardstock. I ship these in clear plastic with a hard back, inside a rigid mailer.
I make my linocut prints by hand carving the reverse of an image on a linoleum block. Then I use this block to stamp the image onto a page.
I ship these in clear plastic with a hard back, inside a rigid mailer.
———
Under the pines, on a summer’s day,
I list to a whisper from far away.
And, lying low, with my half-closed eyes,
Behold the beauty of fairer skies.
Some say ’tis the sound of the sighing sea,
Whose distant murmer steals over me;
Some say ’tis the baby breeze instead,
That rocks in the branches overhead;
But I know it is neither wave nor breeze,
On shining sands and in leafy trees;
’Tis the music sweet of a voice divine,
That whispers peace to each pensive pine.
-Kate Louise Wheeler