There is a gallery in Thirsk (Zillah Bell) which holds an extensive collection of Ackroyd prints and was on our route between Rievaulx abbey and Harrogate so we stopped to have a look - and I bought one. Which was extravagant, but after 2 years thinking about it isn't something I'm going to regret.
The extravagance is relative, to my eye this is a thing of beauty which will be a joy forever, I had the money for it, and honestly I can't think of a better way to spend it than on art. Prints are a comparitivley affordable way of collecting, and be they woodcuts, Lino cuts, screen prints, aquatints, engravings, lithographs, (the list goes on) there's a lot to love.
Really though, this post is just about sharing something I'm beyond delighted with.
The magic moment, back from the framers - you already know what it looks like but now you get to unwrap it, know it's all yours, decide where to hang it, and generally enjoy yourself. Love this bit.
And framed, it's a terrible photo. Sorry!
Incidentally, the title is 'Scarborough', somewhere I've never been, but I do love the mood of this image.