My memories of my life's itineraries and special people who know me hang by a golden thread.
http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=405372426372
The ritual of remembering is an act that transports you to crystals of time, tablet of events, faces and situations. It is a special grace to have that chunk of a moment to see your life unfold before you- one's past and present and the anticipation of what will be.
The act of bringing out my Christmas tree is the beginning of such ritual. The dust that accumulated for 11 months is an actual recording of the passage of time. So, I begin by cleaning the old tree and making it glow like new, the way things are when starting over, when making a fresh beginning.
Something magical happens the moment my tree is up, standing tall in a corner where it will keep vigil, day in, day out, until that special day. The breeze would change and from where it stands, I hear bells and laughter. My childhood unfolds! And I am but a child once again.
Some trimmings are a decorative reminder from people I love and loved- friends who stayed and left, from my daughter and daughter-in-law, from my students and people I have encountered in my work or "hobby".
There are baubles or trinkets that are special reminders of places I have visited, gewgaws and tchotchkes from store sales and handcrafted Christmas fripperies I bought at discounted price, a few pieces each each year from an artist-friend. I used to have scribblings and art projects of my children when they were young. Ana will be 33 soon, Juaqui is 31 and Vitty, 30, I have just but memories of these charming and innocent doodads in my heart. They, like all organic materials have dissipated and converted to dust. Very precious to me are ornaments that remind me of my scrimping days, when my children's tuition was a high priority.
My latest collection comes from London! A beautiful box of crystal balls lovingly brought home by Kay- my niece, and whose Dad I am missing every Christmas. It is a box full of love. Precious, precious love. "My cup runneth over."
Of course, I visited my favorite Christmas store last weekend. I bought the most expensive, fancy-looking stems made of glitters and PLASTIC. Guilty to the first and second degree. But as I have always justified (when my Daddy found out that I spent on ten peso trimmings!)- "it is my Christmas gift to myself!" Hohohohoho!!
This year, I spent a thousand for this gift to dear me, Daddy! Oh, I miss you and your commentaries!
If this is a crime, I am willing to undergo a 3-day house arrest from October 31-November 2. If this is a sin, I will sacrifice not eating chocolates yesterday for atonement. For additional penance, I also gathered some wild twigs of "IS-Is" leaves with red berries and some wild, red "achuete". They are now integrated in my tree.
Crime of passion, I plead... GUILTily willing to commit the same crime next year!
http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=405372426372
The ritual of remembering is an act that transports you to crystals of time, tablet of events, faces and situations. It is a special grace to have that chunk of a moment to see your life unfold before you- one's past and present and the anticipation of what will be.
The act of bringing out my Christmas tree is the beginning of such ritual. The dust that accumulated for 11 months is an actual recording of the passage of time. So, I begin by cleaning the old tree and making it glow like new, the way things are when starting over, when making a fresh beginning.
Something magical happens the moment my tree is up, standing tall in a corner where it will keep vigil, day in, day out, until that special day. The breeze would change and from where it stands, I hear bells and laughter. My childhood unfolds! And I am but a child once again.
Some trimmings are a decorative reminder from people I love and loved- friends who stayed and left, from my daughter and daughter-in-law, from my students and people I have encountered in my work or "hobby".
There are baubles or trinkets that are special reminders of places I have visited, gewgaws and tchotchkes from store sales and handcrafted Christmas fripperies I bought at discounted price, a few pieces each each year from an artist-friend. I used to have scribblings and art projects of my children when they were young. Ana will be 33 soon, Juaqui is 31 and Vitty, 30, I have just but memories of these charming and innocent doodads in my heart. They, like all organic materials have dissipated and converted to dust. Very precious to me are ornaments that remind me of my scrimping days, when my children's tuition was a high priority.
My latest collection comes from London! A beautiful box of crystal balls lovingly brought home by Kay- my niece, and whose Dad I am missing every Christmas. It is a box full of love. Precious, precious love. "My cup runneth over."
Of course, I visited my favorite Christmas store last weekend. I bought the most expensive, fancy-looking stems made of glitters and PLASTIC. Guilty to the first and second degree. But as I have always justified (when my Daddy found out that I spent on ten peso trimmings!)- "it is my Christmas gift to myself!" Hohohohoho!!
This year, I spent a thousand for this gift to dear me, Daddy! Oh, I miss you and your commentaries!
If this is a crime, I am willing to undergo a 3-day house arrest from October 31-November 2. If this is a sin, I will sacrifice not eating chocolates yesterday for atonement. For additional penance, I also gathered some wild twigs of "IS-Is" leaves with red berries and some wild, red "achuete". They are now integrated in my tree.
Crime of passion, I plead... GUILTily willing to commit the same crime next year!
