Calendar 2021

 I've been able to print a limited edition of 2021 calendars for purchase this year. Called "Better Late than Never" the thirteen art images are those of mine that transport me to different places. It seemed an obsession with the current lack of our ability to travel freely or make plans. The last year, with the Covid-19 virus, the fiery mean-spirited politics and the intense global weather, was one we all would like to see behind us. There were many silver linings to be sure, but I think it fair to say that it was hard for all of us. So let us start anew together!

The calendar sells for $25 (shipping USA included) and is easily purchased thru Venmo, PayPal or checks in the USPS. Email me directly for yours (tillystudio@aol.com) and be sure to include an address for shipment. 

They are shipped in hand printed envelopes carrying the inspiring images of flight.

January features an acrylic painting done on site, plein aire. It is a snow covered creek at the edge of our property. In civil war times, (1870's), the creek fed a saw and gristmill, upon whose crumbling foundations I sat when I painted this. I love the way the water eats at the snow bank, and in the spring and summer we watch for red efts and listen for frogs. It must have been a lot busier 150 years ago. Hard to imagine but great to try!

February features images from my dad's sugar shack- another place that for three weeks of the year, transports you to an alchemists den. He stokes the fire under the evaporator and after the sap boils we pour the sweet syrup into bottles!

These are just two of the 13 works of art included in this year's calendar. Supplies limited. Hoping to sell out by the month's end.

 

Why Trees?

Baby Leaves

It goes back to my childhood.

I've been working on a new series and it never seems like the right time to talk about it. 

So much is going on in the world. There are pressing issues, and my inquiry about trees doesn't have the importance or presence to be vigorously promoted. 

But here, my friends, is a little introduction. 

I am squireling away at paintings in the barn. 

They are drawings and panel paintings that celebrate trees as companions.

All winter, on my daily walks, I came to appreciate some sentinels in the forest and hedges. These majestic, broken trees held stories. They resonated inside me. I crawled over and under maple lines in the spring. During the silence of the NY Covid isolation mandate, the trees inspired me with both their stillness and their moving. Just as they started leafing up, 

I got a large board of birch ply and cut 92 oval panels in order to dissect and discover what is behind the power and fascination of what some would call "nature bathing".

Baby Leaves is inspired by one of my earliest memories. I was about 4 years old and living in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. On my walks to and from pre-school we must have crossed through a jungle because there was a carpet under my feet of diversely shaped and colored leaves that were so beautiful I often froze. I had to be practically dragged by my Amah across them. I still recall the vision, the variety, the richness, the smell and the beauty. It was heaven, and still is for me. 

I would not mind if that same vision was my last memory.

Spring Arrived Anyway

(continuing the Daily Drawing During a Quarantine)

Predator Paranoia/ April 29

Spring arrived anyway...which seemed a little weird, as if it had not gotten the memo that the world had changed.
Our chicks arrived in the mail and we raised them first in the tub and then in a new coop we built at the edge of the yard. (click on link to see video of their arrival!)

Chicks in the Tub/ April 16

I feel like the May snow storm was especially cruel. On May 10th I drew an inventory of every article I wore on my body. It was a far cry from the last 9 years in Miami, broiling under the sun!

The weather tried to keep us indoors and I found moments of gloom taking over me.

Wistful/ May 6

The bed seemed the safest place to be, even though my heart was done with hibernating.

Bed day/ April 15

Moving While Staying Still

Looking Up/ March30

(continuing series of Covid19 journal daily drawings)

There are parts of the isolation that feel surreal and stressful, and then there are other parts that feel almost blissful in silences. We are getting to know our neighbors and have found gifts on the doorstep a couple of times. Reciprocating, I made large batches of ramp pesto to leave at the doorsteps, and of course, left bottles of dad's maple syrup.

Trip to Town/ April 20

Putting on a mask and grabbing a handful of gloves is "the new normal" before any endeavor. In fact on our morning walks, we keep a mask in the pocket just in case, though we rarely run into another human. All of our interaction with colleagues is through the computer.

My Peeps/ April 23

I love the daily walks, sometimes in the early morning mist, and others in the waning dusk of the day. The countryside is alive with critters. Without the usual distractions, I am able to pay attention. I almost have a relationship with the one-eared rabbit, the romancing wood ducks, the tousled teenage red tailed hawk, the near-exhausted-from-parenting house wrens and the scampering chipmunks in the stone walls.

Walking/ May 18

When night falls we have fallen prey to the offerings of Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon Prime. Our roster of films and TV shows betrays a new obsessive interest in Scottish history. The doorway was through the TV series Outlander. The key was finding both Michael and I are descended from families who immigrated to the America's from Scotland. The fun is finding how far back we can go (1430!) and then watching historical films of the era.

TV Family Tree/ May 14

Making the Best of It

Practices/ April 21

(Continuing the Daily Drawing During Quarantine)

Michael and I grow stronger. We take daily walks, laugh and share more of ourselves with the other.

We dance, we sing karaoke, we bake, we read to each other. 

Performance/ March 17

Connecting/ April 19

My friend Leesah hosts one of the first online virtual performances for St Patty’s Day. We join Wassaic community in online Bingo. We swap gifts with neighbors and find offerings at our door.

Gifts/ April 10

And every meal we eat together. And we trust when it comes time for the quarantine haircut, we will be there for each other.

Every meal/ April 18

Haircut/ April 27

Nightmares

(continued Daily Drawings during the Covid Pandemic)

Nightmares/ April 24

A month into the national quarantine and numbers of deaths silently continue to rise. Unemployment increases are shouted about in the news. Congress tries to print more money. Alternative stations start floating conspiracy theories. The president encourages protesters to ignore the science, suggests injesting bleach, and screams hysterical over trying to find someone to blame.  No one I know will talk politics, because it is too exhausting and unbelievable. What outrages us one day is overshadowed the next. I feel like I am holding my breath and waiting.

The city, two hours away, empties out and soon all the empty houses on our country road are filled with city people. The stores seem ransacked. There is still no toilet paper to be had. Or whole wheat flour. The trash thrown along the road reflects a higher economic shopper. Maybe we are all high, panting thru stifled homemade masks.

Mask Making/ April 11

I attend church on line, and the local hospital erects a tent in the parking lot to handle the expected rise in patients.  I can’t sleep and worry about my job as a school teacher.

Easter Sunday/ April 12

Hospital Tent/ April 13

The New Normal

(Continuing the Daily Drawings During Quarantine)

Pajamas/ March 27

Feeling wiped out by stress, insecurity, the moon’s position, or imagination, I beat myself up for being weak and dull.  

Wipe Out/ March 21

 Astrological influences aside, we make efforts to dance to the radio, support local restaurants with take-out, sit on the deck at sunset. The calendar loses all its power to define life. Days run into each other, melt, and stop altogether. 

TakeOut/ March 22

I wear my pajamas all day, for days on end, and nobody notices.

Calendar/ March 25

Time for Worry/ March 26

(Self portrait in the hour glass)

 

Life on Pause, Work is Virtual

(continuing the Daily Drawing During a Quarantine)

 

Another Password/ March 19

By the end of March, the mortal predictions were horrendous and our national leaders acted like buffoons. The overwhelming message was to avoid going out, being within 6 feet of another person, touching your face, or touching anything. 

New protocols for work were straining my brain bank of passwords and the ancient computer software systems that I had in place. In order to keep up with scheduled events and meetings, I uploaded, up graded, downloaded and installed until I just had to surrender. Life was on pause and work became virtual, and it was bound to take a toll.

Handwashing/ May 4

Face Touching/May 5

 

Drawing during Quarantine

A Vector at the Door/ March 20

“Quarantine” is derived from the Italian word for 40 days. Back when the Bubonic Plague was hitting Venice, the city leaders took it upon themselves to close their borders and limit all traffic going in or out for 40 days, at the end of which the danger seemed passed, and the word “quarantine” stuck.

On March 13, 2020, when my government leader, (NY State Governor Cuomo), mandated closures of businesses, schools, churches and restaurants…(everything that was not deemed “essential”), I turned to my home and wondered what self-isolation really meant. It seemed very abstract.

The first day I raked the yard and was amazed that nature was still on track, doing its thing regardless of the political fallout or terrorized feelings we were having. 

Daffodils/March14

I reached out and heard from my children and close friends who live further away. 

Reaching Out/ March 15

I felt assured that cleanliness would be the battlefront, and made sure to stock up the pantry. I am still not sure what the fuss was about toilet paper, but all the stores ran out of it early on! We were cautious of visitors and wary of interruptions. Life was already shifting

Soap/ March 18

Stocking Up Provisions/ March 24