“I never saw a man who looked with such a wistful eye upon that little tent of blue which prisoners call the sky” – Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol
I thought of Oscar Wilde, languishing behind bars on his prison plank just beyond the buildings of Blake’s Lock, as our own young poet, deep in his thoughts, took in the atmosphere of his surroundings.  Come see the results of his musings, and our own painterly responses to poetry and place between 17 September and 1 October.  Expect some very deep stuff.