Our parish church, Holy Trinity, asked if I would create a painting from which prints could be made to thank this year’s catechists and which could also be used for Mass cards. The statue of Mary in Holy Trinity School’s garden seemed a suitable subject for the month of May.
Hallie
For the first of May, a poem by Moses ibn Ezra (1060-1138), Jewish philosopher, linguist and poet from medieval Andalusia.
The lawn has on embroidered robes,
The trees are wearing checkered shifts,
They show their wonders to every eye,
And every bud renewed by spring
Comes smiling forth to greet his lord.
See! Before them marches a rose,
Kingly, his throne above them borne,
Freed of the leaves that had guarded him,
No more to wear his prison clothes.
—Moses ibn Ezra
Mary
Josiah
A picture, and a poem, for the first of December.
The half-stripped trees
struck by a wind together,
bending all,
the leaves flutter drily
and refuse to let go
or driven like hail
stream bitterly out to one side
and fall
where the salvias, hard carmine—
like no leaf that ever was—
edge the bare garden.
—William Carlos Williams
Melissa
Chuck
For the first of October, a poem by Hilda Doolittle, and a painting of Saturday market pears and calendula (growing wild by the Languedoc vineyards and known locally as souci).
I saw the first pear
as it fell-
the honey-seeking, golden-banded,
the yellow swarm
was not more fleet than I,
(spare us from loveliness)
and I fell prostrate
crying:
you have flayed us
with your blossoms,
spare us the beauty
of fruit-trees.
The honey-seeking
paused not,
the air thundered their song,
and I alone was prostrate.
O rough-hewn
god of the orchard,
I bring you an offering–
do you, alone unbeautiful,
son of the god,
spare us from loveliness:
these fallen hazel-nuts,
stripped late of their green sheaths,
grapes, red-purple,
their berries
dripping with wine,
pomegranates already broken,
and shrunken figs
and quinces untouched,
I bring you as offering.
—H.D. (Hilda Doolittle)
Amelia
Honora
Our city wanderings, on one page. Had to draw tiny pictures!–click twice if you want to see the map larger.
An illumination I was asked to create, to illustrate a beautiful poem written by the piemaker’s sister.
Aunt Francie & Uncle Ken 1941
Look out the window. Happy St. Swithin’s Day!
It’s the twenty-fifth anniversary of (now Sir) Tim Berners-Lee’s proposal for “a universal linked information system,” after which he went on to write HTTP, HTML, and the first web browser. Happy Birthday, World Wide Web!
Lyn
David
Meghan
Still walking in velvet shoes here…
Let us walk in the white snow
In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet and slow,
At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.
I shall go shod in silk,
And you in wool,
White as white cow’s milk,
More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.
We shall walk through the still town
In a windless peace;
We shall step upon white down,
Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.
We shall walk in velvet shoes:
Wherever we go
Silence will fall like dews
On white silence below.
We shall walk in the snow.
—Elinor Wylie
Polly
An unfortunate conjunction of events.
Roshan
