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Wing-Borne
Poetry illustrated with wonderful block prints. Pages have deckle edge.
64 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1967
About the author
Gwen Frostic
36 books38 followersSara Gwendolen Frostic
"was born in Sandusky, Michigan to Sara and Fred Frostic. When she was 8 months old she suffered from an unknown illness which left her with lifelong symptoms similar to cerebral palsy. Despite physical difficulties Frostic showed an early interest and aptitude for art. In June 1924 she graduated from Theodore Roosevelt High School in Wyandotte, where she was known for using a band saw to create event posters for her school. She continued her studies at Eastern Michigan University earning her teacher's certificate and gaining membership in Alpha Sigma Tau sorority. In 1926 she transferred to Western Michigan University and left in 1927 without completing her degree. She continued her artistic endeavors in metal and plastic, while occasionally teaching, but with the war came a lack of metal to work with and she turned to linoleum block carving. Frostic then turned her linoleum block carving into stationery goods and prints which led to her starting her own printing company, Presscraft Papers. In the early 1950s Frostic opened up a shop selling her prints, books, and other items in Frankfort and in 1960 she bought 40 acres (160,000 m2) of land in Benzonia with the intention of moving her and her shop. On April 26, 1964 her new shop was open for business and she lived there until her death in 2001." ~ wikipedia
"Over the years Gwen had been awarded honorary degrees from many colleges and universities. In 1978 Michigan Governor William Milliken proclaimed May 23rd as Gwen Frostic Day in Michigan, and in 1986 she was inducted into the Michigan Woman's Hall of Fame.
Long before her death she wrote her epitaph:
"Here lies one doubly blessed.
She was happy and she knew it."" ~ http://www.gwenfrostic.com/
"was born in Sandusky, Michigan to Sara and Fred Frostic. When she was 8 months old she suffered from an unknown illness which left her with lifelong symptoms similar to cerebral palsy. Despite physical difficulties Frostic showed an early interest and aptitude for art. In June 1924 she graduated from Theodore Roosevelt High School in Wyandotte, where she was known for using a band saw to create event posters for her school. She continued her studies at Eastern Michigan University earning her teacher's certificate and gaining membership in Alpha Sigma Tau sorority. In 1926 she transferred to Western Michigan University and left in 1927 without completing her degree. She continued her artistic endeavors in metal and plastic, while occasionally teaching, but with the war came a lack of metal to work with and she turned to linoleum block carving. Frostic then turned her linoleum block carving into stationery goods and prints which led to her starting her own printing company, Presscraft Papers. In the early 1950s Frostic opened up a shop selling her prints, books, and other items in Frankfort and in 1960 she bought 40 acres (160,000 m2) of land in Benzonia with the intention of moving her and her shop. On April 26, 1964 her new shop was open for business and she lived there until her death in 2001." ~ wikipedia
"Over the years Gwen had been awarded honorary degrees from many colleges and universities. In 1978 Michigan Governor William Milliken proclaimed May 23rd as Gwen Frostic Day in Michigan, and in 1986 she was inducted into the Michigan Woman's Hall of Fame.
Long before her death she wrote her epitaph:
"Here lies one doubly blessed.
She was happy and she knew it."" ~ http://www.gwenfrostic.com/
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
July 31, 2021
2021 Reading Challenge: book I own but haven't read
October 9, 2021
The poetry is all right. But the hand bonding and the artwork are gorgeous.
September 30, 2026
5.0 Stars
I was thrilled to find this little gem in my local thrift shop today by Gwen Frostic (1906-2001).
The binding of this book is just lovely and it's self published, originally printed in 1967.
The pages are thick craft papers of beautiful muted tones, alternating between deckled edges and sheets of frosted parchment paper.
The artwork is original to the author created with block print and represents the serene nature of her beloved Michigan.
The prose is delightful with a touch of embedded (accidental) Haiku if you notice. Her love of nature , her present tense, and observant descriptions remind me of another poet I also love Mary Oliver.
Such a lovely little book!
A sample:
long red rays
moving clouds
the huge sun on our horizon
a great panorama of color
and another day is done
tall trees are silhouetted in the twilight
the evening thrush is singing
now
the light of the sun
is reflected by the moon
the night is filled with loveliness
the soul of man in awe
it stands apart
and yet it is
a part of all the living earth
I was thrilled to find this little gem in my local thrift shop today by Gwen Frostic (1906-2001).
The binding of this book is just lovely and it's self published, originally printed in 1967.
The pages are thick craft papers of beautiful muted tones, alternating between deckled edges and sheets of frosted parchment paper.
The artwork is original to the author created with block print and represents the serene nature of her beloved Michigan.
The prose is delightful with a touch of embedded (accidental) Haiku if you notice. Her love of nature , her present tense, and observant descriptions remind me of another poet I also love Mary Oliver.
Such a lovely little book!
A sample:
long red rays
moving clouds
the huge sun on our horizon
a great panorama of color
and another day is done
tall trees are silhouetted in the twilight
the evening thrush is singing
now
the light of the sun
is reflected by the moon
the night is filled with loveliness
the soul of man in awe
it stands apart
and yet it is
a part of all the living earth
October 14, 2026
A beautiful poem-like story that brings colour to the Michigan wilderness. I happened upon this misplaced book in the children’s section of a local thrift store and it was the perfect short read as summer ends and autumn takes hold.
November 18, 2020
A beautiful look at the wonder of the world and the interconnectedness of life.
December 29, 2010
Gwen Frostic, Wing-borne (Presscraft Paper, 1967)
When I was in high school back in the mid-eighties, a friend of mine discovered some small, thin, blank-spined books in the poetry section of our local Walden's and, being the impetuous sort, bought one of them. They were by some cat who called himself Javan. Said friend, thinking he'd discovered some sort of long-lost treasure, immediately got on the horn to me and convinced me I needed one, too. So I bought one that he hadn't already bought, and we devoured these things like devil's food cake.
It's twenty-five years later, and I know a lot more about poetry than I did then, as well as a lot more about logic. (Who finds little-known gems in a mall bookstore? No one, that's who, because mall bookstore managers have no autonomy at all in what they order.) Javan (whom I now believe to be the wife of late mystery novelist William X. Kienzle, though this has never been officially confirmed) was one of the legions of Rod McKuen wannabes whose tripe flooded the market back in the day when McKuen was still a marketable name. Why am I telling you all this? Because I had it all come rushing back while reading the work of Gwen Frostic. I wish I'd remembered it before.
I spent years hearing praises sung about Frostic, and especially about Wing-borne. I cannot remember where I heard any of this, but my notes say “multiple award-winning book that made a huge splash on publication and then faded into obscurity.” Is any of that true? I've no idea. In any case, I have since discovered that Frostic owned Presscraft Papers until her death in 2001; Wing-borne was self-published way before self-published was cool. And it has that same godawful Rod McKuen/Susan Polis Schutz/Javan thing going for it, where you take whatever your obsession happens to be, write something about it, chop that something up into little lines, and proclaim it “poetry” despite it really being prose.
“From the soil of the earth the sun brings
forth life----seeds sprout---and tiny plants
rise to reach the light...... .
The countless leaves upon each tree---the
leaves of every flower------each blade of grass
sometime---somehow will turn that the sun will
shine upon it---and-thereby make the one
connecting link between the sun and all the life on
earth.........”
...yeah. (And with all the dashes and dots.) There's no rational defense for calling that poetry. It's barely coherent prose. If you need to scratch a Rod McKuen-style itch and have exhausted all the other horrendous poets of this ilk (and have sampled Helen Steiner Rice, whose poetry is somewhat different, yet mines this same vein of OMGHIDEOUS), then give Gwen Frostic a try. Else, save what brain cells you devote to poetry, which will surely commit suicide if you attempt this. (half)
When I was in high school back in the mid-eighties, a friend of mine discovered some small, thin, blank-spined books in the poetry section of our local Walden's and, being the impetuous sort, bought one of them. They were by some cat who called himself Javan. Said friend, thinking he'd discovered some sort of long-lost treasure, immediately got on the horn to me and convinced me I needed one, too. So I bought one that he hadn't already bought, and we devoured these things like devil's food cake.
It's twenty-five years later, and I know a lot more about poetry than I did then, as well as a lot more about logic. (Who finds little-known gems in a mall bookstore? No one, that's who, because mall bookstore managers have no autonomy at all in what they order.) Javan (whom I now believe to be the wife of late mystery novelist William X. Kienzle, though this has never been officially confirmed) was one of the legions of Rod McKuen wannabes whose tripe flooded the market back in the day when McKuen was still a marketable name. Why am I telling you all this? Because I had it all come rushing back while reading the work of Gwen Frostic. I wish I'd remembered it before.
I spent years hearing praises sung about Frostic, and especially about Wing-borne. I cannot remember where I heard any of this, but my notes say “multiple award-winning book that made a huge splash on publication and then faded into obscurity.” Is any of that true? I've no idea. In any case, I have since discovered that Frostic owned Presscraft Papers until her death in 2001; Wing-borne was self-published way before self-published was cool. And it has that same godawful Rod McKuen/Susan Polis Schutz/Javan thing going for it, where you take whatever your obsession happens to be, write something about it, chop that something up into little lines, and proclaim it “poetry” despite it really being prose.
“From the soil of the earth the sun brings
forth life----seeds sprout---and tiny plants
rise to reach the light...... .
The countless leaves upon each tree---the
leaves of every flower------each blade of grass
sometime---somehow will turn that the sun will
shine upon it---and-thereby make the one
connecting link between the sun and all the life on
earth.........”
...yeah. (And with all the dashes and dots.) There's no rational defense for calling that poetry. It's barely coherent prose. If you need to scratch a Rod McKuen-style itch and have exhausted all the other horrendous poets of this ilk (and have sampled Helen Steiner Rice, whose poetry is somewhat different, yet mines this same vein of OMGHIDEOUS), then give Gwen Frostic a try. Else, save what brain cells you devote to poetry, which will surely commit suicide if you attempt this. (half)
October 2, 2024
I wanted to love it more.
I'm a Michigander who has always been in love with Gwen's art. It's instantly recognizable.
This book is very Michigan in all the flora and fauna described and portrayed in the images. I adore that.
What was difficult for me is what I find happens with so many of her books--it can decide what it wants to be. Is it prose? Is it poetry? Is the message more artsy and or scientific? There are pages of this book that the words resonated so deeply, and the very next page would disappoint.
My fav of her books, the only one I've read so far that I've given 5 stars, is "To Those Who See". She got the formula right for that one.
I love her art. I wish I liked more of her writing more.
I'm a Michigander who has always been in love with Gwen's art. It's instantly recognizable.
This book is very Michigan in all the flora and fauna described and portrayed in the images. I adore that.
What was difficult for me is what I find happens with so many of her books--it can decide what it wants to be. Is it prose? Is it poetry? Is the message more artsy and or scientific? There are pages of this book that the words resonated so deeply, and the very next page would disappoint.
My fav of her books, the only one I've read so far that I've given 5 stars, is "To Those Who See". She got the formula right for that one.
I love her art. I wish I liked more of her writing more.
April 1, 2014
Another Gwen Frostic creation with beautiful paper, deckle edges, and illustrations.
October 31, 2023
A beautiful book, not just in the poetry of nature but in the way of the pages and illustrations throughout
July 10, 2024
The poetry is good, but the art is better. I especially liked how tracing paper was sometimes used to see the poems through the art and the art through the poems.
February 13, 2019
This is a lovely little book about plants and wings and earth and sun and growth. All life interacts with other life. Beautiful prose and imagery!
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews