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Unwrapped
I make specialized hand carved and painted wooden sculptures for a living and just finished another Holiday season. The biggest giving time of the year when Yuletide trees fill underneath with presents, charities ring bells and inundate us with telephone solicitations and our mailboxes overflow with catalogs. There is no escaping the call for gifts. Our emotions are played upon with the tunes of holiday favorites, seaso
nal renewals of friendship come with each card, co-workers friends and family gather and the pressure is on to give tokens of affection, respect, fealty, and kindness. There is little escape lest we be branded a Scrooge or Grinch. We 'must' give - and that we 'must' somehow diminishes our gift. So we are compelled to annually exchange presents, burdening one another with mementos of relationships. Periodically I attempt to scale back these accumulations, sorting them and setting aside the 'keepers' while tossing out items never really liked or wanted. I hold fast to some if they were given by a loved one, or perhaps remain the only physical token of a long ago friend, or just because they possess that magical aura of having been a 'gift'. And yes, there are a few things that I have guiltily passed on to others. Re-gifting seems to me a cheaty way of dealing with an unwanted object. We'd like to convince ourselves that the item will find a loving home and useful purpose. Perhaps it will, perhaps it won't. Perhaps instead it will carry cooties of distaste from every hand that held it, bacteria of repugnance growing with every transfer. When my creations leave my hands what do they become? a cherished keepsake or an embarrassing white elephant? And do I really want to know?
I make specialized hand carved and painted wooden sculptures for a living and just finished another Holiday season. The biggest giving time of the year when Yuletide trees fill underneath with presents, charities ring bells and inundate us with telephone solicitations and our mailboxes overflow with catalogs. There is no escaping the call for gifts. Our emotions are played upon with the tunes of holiday favorites, seaso
nal renewals of friendship come with each card, co-workers friends and family gather and the pressure is on to give tokens of affection, respect, fealty, and kindness. There is little escape lest we be branded a Scrooge or Grinch. We 'must' give - and that we 'must' somehow diminishes our gift. So we are compelled to annually exchange presents, burdening one another with mementos of relationships. Periodically I attempt to scale back these accumulations, sorting them and setting aside the 'keepers' while tossing out items never really liked or wanted. I hold fast to some if they were given by a loved one, or perhaps remain the only physical token of a long ago friend, or just because they possess that magical aura of having been a 'gift'. And yes, there are a few things that I have guiltily passed on to others. Re-gifting seems to me a cheaty way of dealing with an unwanted object. We'd like to convince ourselves that the item will find a loving home and useful purpose. Perhaps it will, perhaps it won't. Perhaps instead it will carry cooties of distaste from every hand that held it, bacteria of repugnance growing with every transfer. When my creations leave my hands what do they become? a cherished keepsake or an embarrassing white elephant? And do I really want to know?
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