Clair meyrick

I write images, paint words and sometimes mix the two..

With a paintbrush and canvas or paper, I explore the connections, senses, emotions. Finishing the circle.
A meditation with the landscape; with my hands.
A chance to conjur magic and peace; discover beauty in light and shade, leaving  space to imagine.
The outdoors is with me wherever I am.
I journey right where I sit.

Nature, environment, landscape; ever changing, evolving, captivating, inspiring.

I live it, breathe it, immerse myself in it, become it.
Part of me and me of it.
I’m always happiest outside, making sense of the world amongst the trees, connected and rooted in both history and future memories.

I intend my work to challenge, evoke, question, answer and inspire.
Inspire a curiosity about the World we are part of, but sometimes overlook as less important.

To find out more about Clair visit her website here.

We are delighted to have Clair as part of our Contemporary Kent Artists exhibition at The Horsebridge Arts Gallery the 8th - 20th of October 2025.

Poem by the artist.

 I think the flowers know my name 

the birds speak on their behalf

they entice the bees with song and promises of riches

they have their time then sleep and dream and sleep 

then back to their six sided home 

sunshine drips symmetry 

and still the birds sing because they can 

and the sound reminds me I’m here right now 

my foot fall crunch alerts the trees

and they know all I want is shade

they know I’m hope 

they don’t need to hold my breath 

and they Breathe out the history 

I breathe in 

calmly

I walk in knowledge 

green fills the four corners spread out under blue 

if I listen I hear the sea faintly

the sea recedes so the flowers stand proud 

salt and sweet infuse at their meeting point  

and I’m involved 

the scent is my cloak for a time 

this time 

I imagine a life 

I don’t know how long

my memory doesn’t stretch 

I’m here and not and have been and will be 

and yet I sit in perfect time with the birds 

keeping me company 

I sit under the tree that isn’t scared of me and I of it. 

then a wing shadow crosses paths 

fleetingly

from which a butterfly emerges 

and I touch the tree that breathes with me 

Yes

the flowers know my name 

Clair M


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