Kent c. 1929

Charles William Taylor’s print ‘Kent’ is a small but generous invitation into a world of layered textures and quiet contemplation. I’m imagining Taylor hunched over this block of wood, carefully carving away at the surface to reveal the image beneath. I feel a kinship with Taylor, imagining him wrestling with the push and pull of the tool, coaxing the image into being, line by painstaking line. Look at the textures of the trees, the fields, the water, and even the sky. Each mark is so deliberate and controlled. I love how the staccato lines create a kind of rhythmic pulse. The act of close looking reveals the artist's hand, his choices, and his sensitivity to the material. In a way, we become collaborators in the act of making, piecing together the image in our minds, just as Taylor did with his hands. It’s a testament to how artists, through their unique perspectives, can connect us to the world around us and to each other, bridging time and space through the language of art.