IAN CLEGG WALSH
  • HOME
  • GALLERY 1
  • GALLERY 2
  • POETRY
  • STUDIO
  • ABOUT
  • BLOG
  • ARCHIVE
  • CONTACT

When the words took over...

26/5/2025

0 Comments

 


For a while now, the brushes have sat still, the inks drying in their bottles, the canvases leaned quietly in the corner, waiting. Not abandoned—just... on pause. Something unexpected tugged at my creative sleeve and pulled me in a different direction: poetry.

It wasn’t planned. It crept in like a whisper and then flooded like a river. Short lines. Sudden rhythms. Images made of language rather than paint. I found myself chasing fragments of thought and emotion, not with charcoal or spray, but with keystrokes and stanza breaks.

What I discovered is that the creative energy is the same—it simply changed form. The same abstraction, the same curiosity, the same compulsion to reveal something hidden. But now it was shaped in syllables rather than silhouettes.
For those wondering where the new artwork is—know that it’s still brewing, just behind the poetry. The imagery is stacking up. I feel it gathering again. And when it returns to the studio, I suspect the work will be changed by these poems. Maybe looser. Maybe more inward. Maybe both. Sometimes, we follow the line wherever it leads, even when it pulls us off the canvas and into the page.

​Do you know what irritates a poet most of all? 
Is it when he receives some hurtful criticism
Is it when his book is rejected by the publishers?
No.. it's when he has written something in pencil late at night , and the next day he can't read his own handwriting! 
Maybe there'll be a second edition if I can ever work it out..  !!


Picture
Picture
Get a copy ...
0 Comments

On Dry Seasons and Silent Strings

27/12/2024

0 Comments

 
Picture
Today I watched Jack weep, stirred by the memory of someone who had once believed in him—someone who gave him a break when he needed it most. There was eye contact and those brief, bracing hugs that men give when words aren’t quite enough. I’ve never had that kind of break, so I won’t pretend to share in Jack's tears.

​A requiem hums softly in the background of my mind. Now and then, a melody breaks through, beautiful but fleeting. Midnight finds me staring at my desk, almost reaching for a pencil, half in the mood but lacking direction. Can you force it? Creativity, I mean.

I'm down to one Christmas card this year. Hang in there, Linda. One peg on the line will do.
Here it is, the musing if not the muse. “You’re creative,” she said, and something flickered to life inside me. Lately, life feels like a piano string with the damper pressed tight. Nothing rings out. I wandered into the forest of notation and hugged a few tree-shaped notes. They didn’t give much sap, but the instinct to try remains.
“Sugar, Sugar” isn’t trembling with fear just yet.

When the art dries up, write poetry. When the poetry withers, draw. When the sketches refuse to come alive, mess around with a DAW. Maybe there’s some harmonic, spectral, verbose formula waiting to reveal itself.
It's happening, whether I acknowledge it or not.

​And so I try. And try. And try.
0 Comments

Depth - it's a print and a poem too!

19/8/2023

0 Comments

 
Picture
an alligator
under a whale
under a shark
beneath
a cloud

toxic flowers
under
sparkling spray waters
abound

sticky tape
pulls and tears
ink hisses a little too loudly
ah, some of these
are quite damaged

i don't come cheap
even my seconds
arrive first
big prints
little prints from
canvas to cardboard

ink that won't dry
someone she admires
you were part of my
child
hood
when you made the smear on your
beard

you gambled
you lost
in the depth the clouds can rain
directly on the crocodile
on the crocodile grin
Picture
0 Comments
<<Previous

    Author

    Ian Clegg Walsh

    Archives

    May 2025
    December 2024
    August 2023
    May 2023
    November 2020
    October 2018
    August 2018
    March 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

 

COPYRIGHT 2025 IAN CLEGG WALSH
TERMS & CONDITIONS
Privacy policy
refund policy
  • HOME
  • GALLERY 1
  • GALLERY 2
  • POETRY
  • STUDIO
  • ABOUT
  • BLOG
  • ARCHIVE
  • CONTACT