Hot Cross Buns

 I am not talking about a trip to Fire Island. It is about the magic of being where you are, and seeing icing on the cake.

Film crew from the Trevor Zoo interviewing Pa for YouTube

As the season of hibernation wanes, I feel hunger and desire. Last month we had the full "wolf moon" which traditionally references the depletion of our pantries and symbolizes bill collectors at the door. This month's full moon is the "worm moon", and... have you noticed how many earth worms are in the road? They are waking up and plowing through the thawing the soil. Perhaps it is time to go fishing?

I started the month painting pancakes. They serve as vehicles for the sweet maple syrup our farm has been producing. The sugar season was a little bumpy, with temperatures swinging from 60 to 20 degrees in the last days. We barely made 195 gallons of syrup before the trees finally started budding. The best part of the process, besides being outside in the sugar bush, is being with my dad. I get to witness how he moves from project to project, taking a moment in the sun, sawing wood with headphones, daydreaming into the steam of the evaporator pans... there is a grace and sense of solidity. When you get into a conversation, it can be really deep.

My hot cross bun, 7 x 5 inches, acrylic on paper

 I end the month with a painting of a hot cross bun, bought on impulse at the register of our local grocer. A little research online reveals the indented top and icing cross are for Jesus and the spices inside reference the embalming ingredients. These buns were common in England until 1592 when Queen Elizabeth I decreed they could ONLY be made on Good Friday, Christmas or for burials! She reasoned that they were "too delicious to be eaten any other day". Somehow I wonder if we are getting the full story. But digging further I find that the buns have protective (embalming?) powers. They can save you from shipwrecks, so were commonly taken on long sea voyages. They can also cement a friendship. There is Irish lore: "half for you and half for me, between us two, good luck shall be".  This little painting would make a good gift paired with that sentiment, don't you think?

It's easy- just be the first to email me (tillystudio@aol.com) for for directions to send $55 USA

The Artist Behind the Man on the Syrup Label

 As the maple sugaring season goes on, many people have asked if I made the label featuring my pa's smiling mug. I did not. But my boyfriend Michael did! He is an amazing artist who makes his living doing illustration work for many publishers across many genre. I think he is especially good at those "exploded views" for How-To books. But he can draw anything...and I mean anything!!! I have tried to stump him, asking for a drawing of a clear glass of vodka tonic against a fur wall with a rusty nail and a dead fish...but that is another story! 

Michael has done all the drawings for Rita Mae Brown's Sneaky Pie Brown Murder mysteries as well as a series of maps for George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones. So we find ourselves in high quality company and are seriously proud of our labels!!!!

Twelve years ago when I was moving away from the farm, and sure to miss my pa, Michael secretly got together with my dad and drew this portrait IN PENCIL when he was at an artist residency. It's so special. I cried with joy and wonder when I saw it and had it framed with me in Miami. The original is a treasure.

 

Now that we are bottling a new batch of syrup and packaging the sugar and we have many different iterations that need tweaking for weight and date. Michael is working hard behind the scenes. It is not always easy and several computers need to be configured to line up the print exactly with the sticker edges.

We have a temporary set up in the sugar shack so that Dennis, who is full time sugar master, can make changes and corrections.

Michael is also gifted with another incredible virtue! He's positively willing to do what ever it takes to make us all happy. To see more of Michael's work check out his website:  www.mgellatlyart.com

Virus Anniversary Ponderings on a Plague Saint

 

Marking the anniversary of yearlong pandemic-induced closures and nationwide isolation, I am drawn to St Sebastian as a perfect devotional image. Depicted tied to a column, tree or stake, he is riddled with arrows and gazing, with a beatific smile, up to the heavens.

Back during Bubonic plagues of 17^th century Europe, Christians embraced the saint as an intercessor for their prayers. Sebastian, who lived in Rome, became a martyr who submitted to torture and was left for dead twice. He seemed to defy odds, surviving arrow wounds and beatings. For that reason, he could serve as a lightening rod to relieve and protect others from the plague.  

 

There are other saints to pray to for help in times of plagues, such as the Virgin Mary and St Roch, but St Sebastian seems to be the perfect one for me.

His ideal physique, riddled with arrows has come to symbolize the toleration of multiple zoom meetings and multiplying obituary pages, while the archers, who run away on the receding road, are the business commitments and goals of a “get-me-ahead-at-any-cost” lifestyle. The calendar is the rubble of antiquity around us. I strive for the verticality, and the connection to God.

 

St Sebastian By Botticelli

, Tempera on panel, 1474 (Berlin)

In the 14^th century the “Black Death” killed 30 million people in Europe alone, and an estimated 75 to 200 million across Eurasia. Some people blamed God and turned to focus less on the afterlife and more on a humanist philosophy of earthly delights. Many blamed marginal groups such as the Jews, and instituted brutal and devastating pogroms. The movement of the Flagellants reflected a growing belief that self –harm could win God’s favor and spare the body or even the community. Many people attended gruesome performances of the faithful whipping themselves into frenzy. In the port of Venice, they instituted a law for 30-day isolation applicable to all incoming ships, called a “trentino”, and then extended that for what we now call a “quarantino”

In the 15^th and 16^th century, with the European hunger for world exploration, (and exploitation), 80 to 90% of indigenous populations in the Americas were wiped out by small pox.

Just this week America reached a milestone of 500.000 deaths due to Covid. There hasn’t been public mass mourning until President Biden and VP Harris stood in silence with 500 lit candles. We seem like Sebastian, suspended between two deaths, those of our loved ones and possibly ours. St Sebastian reminds us of that as he is depicted still alive a moment or two before his death. He shares in our personal vulnerability.

 

 Featured art work:

Digital drawing, dimensions variable. Last May, my 82 year old mother had to undergo massive surgery on a rare abdominal cancerous tumor during the Covid crisis. We had to drop her off outside the hospital and wait to hear from her after hours of surgery and recovery. I did this drawing as a prayer and a nod to St. Sebastian. (And mom's doing great!)