Printable Vintage Art: June by John White Alexander

June, c1911
by John White Alexander (1856–1915)

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Sometimes I wake up and lie still enough to hear a petal drop from the vase of flowers. Sometimes I lie awake and wish there was someone to hear my falling.
― Simon Van Booy, The Illusion of Separateness

Each flower is a secret language. When I wear a combination of flowers together, it's like I'm writing my own secret code that no one else can understand unless they know my language.
― Holly Ringland, The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart

My digitally enhanced version of the above painting can be downloaded as a high-res 8” x 11” @ 300 ppi JPEG without a watermark here.


Digitally enhanced reproductions of public domain fine art are shared under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Printable Vintage Illustration: A Walk in the Woods

I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw
Or heard or felt came not but from myself;
And there I found myself more truly and more strange.
― Wallace Stevens, The Collected Poems
This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.
― John Muir, John of the Mountains: The Unpublished Journals of John Muir

19th century illustration of a woman on a nature walk in the woods, surrounded by wildflowers. 5” x 9” @ 300 ppi JPEG without a watermark here


From my personal collection of ephemera. These images are to be incorporated into your creative works. Not for resale “as-is.” Credit to FieldandGarden.com appreciated but not required.

Printable Vintage Art: Flowers by Lovis Corinth

Flowers, 1911
by Lovis Corinth (1858–1925)

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I breathe in...
the fragrance
of love, and moist sand
the one
his roses left
on both my hands

I just keep on breathing
every moment
as much as I can
preserving it, in my body
for the day
it can’t.
― Sanober Khan, A touch, a tear, a tempest

There had never been such roses as those that bloomed that summer. They clambered everywhere and dripped as if perspiring the heaviest most intoxicating perfume, which seemed to make the very masonry drunk. The senses fused; sometimes these roses emitted low but intolerably piercing pentatonic melodies which were the sound of their deep crimson colour and yet we heard them inside our nostrils.
― Angela Carter, The Infernal Desire Machines of Doctor Hoffman

My digitally enhanced version of the above painting can be downloaded as a high-res 8.5” x 10” @ 300 ppi JPEG without a watermark here.


Digitally enhanced reproductions of public domain fine art are shared under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.