Propolis Tincture: An Artist's Statement

On thresholds, time, and patience

Propolis is not made for sweetness.

When bees create propolis, they aren’t thinking about abundance or pleasure. They’re sealing cracks. Reinforcing edges. Lining vulnerable places. Smoothing rough surfaces. They use it to steady the interior of the hive — to control what moves in and out, to keep the space livable.

When a colony is under stress, bees create more of it. Propolis is how the hive responds collectively, reinforcing itself where it’s most vulnerable.

When I make a propolis tincture, I think about time — not as a constraint, but as an ingredient. I’ve always been drawn to processes that refuse to be rushed, that insist on their own pace no matter how convenient it would be to hurry them along.

This tincture takes three months to make.
(and I like that)

Raw propolis, selectively collected from our hives, is macerated slowly in high-proof alcohol. During that time, the resin opens gradually, releasing its depth in stages.

During maceration, we introduce toasted oak chips. The oak adds a faint warmth — a rounding, a suggestion of vanilla — without erasing what makes propolis unmistakable.

The flavor is dark, bitter, resinous. To me, it tastes the way a big, healthy hive smells — warm wood, sap, beeswax, something alive and slightly wild. 

This tincture isn’t for constant use. It’s something you keep because you understand where it belongs — a material made slowly, used when needed, and allowed to do its work.

On Artist's Statements

Everything we make at Cult of Bees begins in the studio, not the marketplace. These works exist because we believe care deserves to be studied, refined, and given form.

Whether it’s a photograph, a jar of balm, or honey, the process is the same: to observe, to decide, to make something honest. Each piece exists to answer a question about how touch, material, and attention can shape experience.

This is why we write about them. The words are part of the work — a record of what we learned in the making, and a reminder that even the simplest object is full of meaning.