The Color of March / 2023

March's Color of the Month is Butter Yellow.

It's the color of endless pastry potential, the bright spot of afternoon light that pours through your window and onto your floor, fresh daffodils as they cut through the winter ground with their hopeful hue…

This color has been on my mind a lot lately. I thought it would be April's, but I couldn't wait.

Resisting the urge for a shade of green in homage to St. Patrick's Day, I felt like the time for Butter Yellow was now.

What sealed the deal on this season's delicious and soft shade of yellow was a memory that occurred to me from 3 years ago (almost to the day)!

We were in the final weekend of February 2020 (inches away from the world spiraling into chaos) when Jesús and I took a trip to Ellijay, Georgia.

We postponed our plan of taking a New Year's retreat at the top of the year and instead decided to spend a week of vision casting and relaxing in North Georgia in late February.

The concept sounds idyllic, but to paint an authentic picture, this wasn’t a super glamourous time of our lives.

We were desperate to own a home, discouraged by the process of being outbid on our recent three attempts to make offers. We were unsure of what direction to take our business, longing to make our respective art, and seriously lacking in the financial department.

The cabin stay was actually an exchange I had pitched to the owner - a trade of photos and social media content for our visit (but that's a story for another time).

Needless to say, we were grateful to have this break – this chance to pause, pray and attempt to dream despite our aimlessness and anxiousness about the future.

We could see it in the environment of North Georgia and feel it in our hearts – we were at the tail end of a winter season, and the feeling of "is this going to last forever?" was in the air.

Sounds dramatic, maybe. But sometimes life just feels like that.

And it's nice to remember that this season eventually ended, and not only did it end, but the following season opened up before us like a brillant blooming flower (even if we did go through a pandemic in the process).

Back to Georgia and Butter Yellow.

This cabin we were staying at had this beautiful, large back porch that overlooked the foothills of the smokey mountains (you'll find the view below).

And as all overheated Floridians would do, we put on our heavy coats nearly every morning, brewed some coffee, and braved the crisp 40°F elements to sit outside and enjoy the view.

It was the second day, and as I looked up from the journal in my lap, I spotted these tiny dots of yellow sprinkled around the brown forest floor. Amidst the tangled branches and dried leaves were these cheerful signs of life - seeming to defy the season's odds with their color. I was confused.

I walked through the cabin and down the hill below to get a closer look.

Freshly bloomed daffodils sat in clusters around the entire hillside of the cabin. Their color and texture reminded me of a perfect, delicious stick of Kerrygold Butter (if you know, you know).

Remember, I'm from Florida – so this was my first time witnessing the incredible phenomena of wild daffodils in the forests of Georgia in late winter.

I was baffled that something so colorful and delicate could push up from this dormant earth to brave the cold and kickstart the first signs of spring.

I soaked in the sight of all the flowers that peppered the ground around me and appreciated the reminder from God that even the harshest winter cannot stifle the promise of new life that demands to spring forth again.

And I think this metaphor is true for our personal winters as well. There is always hope, even if it doesn't feel like it in the moment.

Although 2020 was difficult in many unforeseen ways, we left the cabin in late February and walked into a year that burst with unexpected blessings and the hope-filled direction we craved.

While stuck in our apartment, void of commitment to social plans or outings – we found a groove with our business, spent our mornings hearing God's voice, and eventually had the money we needed to buy our fixer-upper home in August (for a miraculous price).

Looking back, our trip to Ellijay and that time of our life feels synonymous with those wild daffodils – and this story still encourages me years later.

Wherever you're located in the world – with or without buttery yellow flowers in your yard this time of year – I pray that March will be full of fresh, joyful, lively reminders of hope in your life.

Thank you for reading,

– Anna

P.S. If you’re a collector who wants to invite a little more Butter Yellow in your life, I made a new painting inspired by March’s Color of the Month!

Meet Ode to Butter, a piece that celebrates this hopeful color with a composition that pays a nod to a classic stick of butter.

Now available for sale in the shop.