Yesterday for a while twitter was over capacity. Everyone on earth is trying to squeeze into the twitter-bus to wish each other a Merry Christmas.
A lot of my old timey radio shows revolve not around the Christmas miracle, nor the solstice magic, but the agony of shopping and the tragedy/comedies of gift-giving.
I have a friend who works at a physical therapy office, and she received a hefty bonus. If we were to call my Christmas bonus [x], hers is [x + (my weekly paycheck + 50)]. One of the women she works with, although she's only worked with the company four months, received the same amount as my friend, and was heartily disappointed in the bonus.
We have been really ill since last Monday and so I've spent a lot of time thinking about artful graciousness, and gratefulness, and how disgusting public disappointment can be.
My mom still sends me some Christmas presents, because I'm not grown up enough to tell her not to. We have a family policy of sending one another wish lists, and at this point these lists are usually emailed and include handy links for maximum wish-granting possibility. Some of the things were not list items, so I had to exercise my own philosophy on some of the things, wondering in my phlegmy haze whether this or that was a list item, or just a neat thing she saw and passed along.
It's mostly about this beautiful fabric I received. It's a scarf, but far to fine for me to actually wear. It is silky with many a golden fleur-de-lis sprinkled about on the alternate opaque-and-translucent stripes of royal blue. It looks like something royalty should wear. Right now the scarf is draped around my nativity scene. It's a very beautiful object, and while I'm not sure why precisely I was given it, I am happy I was, because it makes me imagine.
Despite this nobility I cannot shake the small disappointment I have, the afterglow of Christmas. I got far more than I expected (I think I will be able to offer PRINTS of my work very soon, humbly from my own HOME, heaven help us.) I think part of it is I haven't had much time to herald in the Christmas spirit. I was gone, then I was sick, and then I was working. What about those fun crafts I meant to do? What about the homemade advent calender I'd meant to do?
If there's a resolution I have, it should probably be "lose that little bit of inhibition and make more."
