Icons take me a long time to make – they are exacting from beginning to end, even with the simplest steps. And since Byzantine iconography is the art form behind some of the oldest and most potent religious symbols ever created, I of course want to do my best. So I don’t mind the 5+ years I have spent learning (with more to go) the ancient techniques of painting with handmade egg tempera and dry pigments, or all the precise choices to be made regarding symbols and color so that the image can be correctly “read.” But working with egg tempera, the foundation of this technique, has its pitfalls.

Just yesterday I needed to make new egg tempera, something I’ve done many times. I learned how to crack an egg early on in grade school, and I approached this task with confidence. Yet I broke a record 4 egg yolks before I finally managed to keep one intact. I rinsed the egg white off of the fifth one, carefully holding it in the palms of my hands while drizzling water them. After drying it off with a little patting ritual involving Bounty paper towels, I held this by now extra precious yolk by its membrane and allowed it to break (this time it is according to plan) into a small glass jar. I typically use a jigger to get all the other ingredients (wine vinegar and water) (or vodka and water) measured just right.

This “temper” is the icon's foundation, and once mixed with the dried pigment it becomes egg tempera, a durable, beautiful, paint that has been used for centuries. The balance between the temper and water (both measured in drops) and the dry pigments is critical to creating an icon that doesn’t crack (too much egg) or flake off (too much pigment). It is undeniably finicky, and it helps me to remember that the shared roots of “temperamental” and “temper” both mean “to mix to the proper consistency.” It is an ultimately mesmerizing, meditative, and satisfying process – not to mention the satisfaction of making the beautiful object that is an icon.