Poppies have a certain mystique. They have a complex
history, bringing associations with war, with remembrance and graves and
‘foreign fields’, as Remembrance Day last week highlighted. They are also part
of a summer day in the sun, time spent playing in a field. In the language of
flowers they are associated with eternal sleep or oblivion. Their association
with sleep is no doubt due to their pharmacological effects. Poppies can also
mean consolation or pleasure, and the usual red flower associations of passion
and love. Oddly, yellow poppies mean wealth.
Travelling through Spain a few years ago, what really struck
me, and remains vivid in my memory, was the red earth in the fields, with crops
growing up and scattered with splashes of poppies, so dark they looked like the
earth stained them too. I could understand why war poetry dwells so on poppies
– and not just because they sprout in disturbed, war torn, fields. They’re the
colour of blood – old blood in the earth, fresh blood in the bud.
Wheat fields with poppies are a classic and enduring image,
beautiful but also full of layered meanings. I had great fun recreating such
images. This is actually my second picture – the first didn’t quite work out,
so remain half in pieces gathering dust on my table. The background is acrylic
paint on card. The poppies and wheat were both great to quill (I’m particularly
proud of the poppy centre), and I’ve already repeated the poppy design in a
bunch of flowers I’ll post about soon.
