View From Mt. of Olives, Sunset
It was right around this time of year when I first visited Jerusalem. My traveling companion, who had lived in there for ten years, graciously showed me around the ancient city that for centuries was thought of as “the beating heart of the world.” I was there to do research for a children’s book about an ancient olive tree that I was writing and illustrating (The Life of an Olive, Heliotrope Books, 2016) – so we visited the Garden of Gethsemane on the Mt. of Olives, where I saw olive trees that legend holds were alive when Jesus Christ went through his dark night of the soul there.
The day was waning as we made our way from there to the Mt. of Olives cemetery. Wandering among the terraced graves, I felt like I was walking among the white bones of history – or perhaps overcrowded teeth, with their sharp corners rounded by time into fluid steps that marched down the steep terrain. Stacked in overlapping layers, their numbers were too large to fathom, and their age even more mind-boggling. My mind struggled to grasp the history carved into this place. It was like being on safari, in the midst of wild animals, after seeing only a few captive specimens in zoos all my life. History is alive in Israel, and continues to unfold.
As these thoughts settled, I took in the view that lay before me. My gaze wandered across the valley to where the Old City of Jerusalem caught the fading rays of the sun. The warmer hues of sunset had already faded from the shadowed portion of the Old City, while the western-facing churches of the Mt. of Olives caught the last golden rays. It was a magnificent view that spoke of an arc in time that stretched back over two millennia, reducing me to a mere speck on the continuum of time. Standing among those graves, I felt both insignificant and connected to something infinite.
How could I capture this feeling in a painting? By focusing on the mark of time upon the land. Notice the meandering walls of white Jerusalem stone, weathered and enduring, hewn by humans long gone, shaped by centuries of erosion. The hundreds of graves in the foreground and the buildings of the Old City in the distance, all built of the same, ubiquitous stone. The lumpy, irregular land, shaped and trodden by the hooves of endless camels and donkeys, bare and sandaled feet, shovels and picks and recently, modern machinery. And the cypress and olive trees that have patiently withstood the passage of time, soaking up light and lending organic shapes to this landscape of human habitation.
I worked from a photograph that I took for the purpose of this painting – though over a decade passed before the photo resurfaced and the painting rose to the top of the image pile that I carry around in my head. I felt a certain sense of completion when I finally finished it.
View From Mt. of Olives is painted in acrylic and oil on canvas, and it’s for sale. Please inquire for more information if you’re interested. The painting is part of my new calendar, The Jewish Eye 5786/2026 Calendar of Art – a perfect gift for the Jewish New Year! It’s available in my webstore, on Etsy, and on Amazon. You can view all the images here.
A good week to all!
D. Yael Bernhard
https://dyaelbernhard.com
Have you seen my other Substack, The Art of Health? In addition to being a visual artist, I’m also a certified integrative health & nutrition coach with a lifelong passion for natural food cooking and herbal medicine. Now in its second year, this illustrated newsletter explores cutting-edge concepts of nutrition. I strive to make relevant information clear and accessible, and to anchor essential health concepts in unique images. Check it out, and if you like it, please subscribe and help spread the word. Your support keeps my work going!