You know, I’m such a creature of habit.
Perhaps, a believer in ritual. Which sounds ever so much better.
But, I’ve discovered, just tonight, that part of my blockage on Christmas decoration stems from not knowing where stuff GOES. My friend, amazing author Keena Kincaid, who will be guest blogging here tomorrow, is a gypsy. She forever moves from place to place, so getting out her Christmas decorations becomes a common thread.
For me, I find myself paralyzed that I can’t hang the stockings on the kiva. What do I do?? Perhaps if I had less OTHER stuff to do, I’d feel more creative.
What it comes to is, I can’t do the decorating by rote.
I can’t simply recreate what I’ve done before and have done. Some of the things just flat out don’t match. At least I’ve made piles now, of what does match and what doesn’t.
I know, I know — it sounds nuts and you wonder why I care.
I can’t explain why I care. It has to do with blending. With art. With being part of the landscape and the season and the feeling. I have something in me that wants to become part of a place. That longs to be in harmony, perhaps.
Speaking of which, I’ve learned that “luminarias” are little bonfires and the candles in bags are “farolitas.” If you have the fake-y farolitas, with electricity like we do, they’re “electrolitas.” Which I feel certain is not a traditional word.
I’m getting there. The poinsettia lights look lovely over the kiva mantle. I’ve a pile of outside lights in amber and gold, to match the farolitas.
I have an idea for hanging the stockings, too.
Hmm. Is that the stirrings of creativity I feel? Welcome! Welcome and, dare I say, gods bless us, every one.