My Christmas tree is glitzy with decorations, standing on an ornate indian mirrored chest. It is sparkling with precious baubles saved from my childhood. The branches are hung with little felt sequinned shoes made by my children at playgroup over 20 years ago , tiny wooden toys bought from a German Christmas market , miniature knitted stockings, patchwork stars, dangly glass heart shapes from a broken chandelier; all kinds of diverse treasures carefully unwrapped and remembered each year. Nothing matches and there is no colour scheme or theme! The crowning glory at the top of the tree is ‘grubby fairy’ ,named by my husband as until this year she was still wearing the gauzy dress I made for her when I was 12 and looking slightly worse for wear. I decided this was a disrespectful title for a fairly elderly doll and decided to treat her to a new dress made from some pieces of victorian lace and rechristened her ‘lacy fairy’! The lace was rather reluctantly donated to the Christmas cause as it had been set aside for a yet to be planned collage. So now you know my guilty secret- I still play with my toys!
Well ,I guess the arty moral of this sentimental tale is to keep in touch with our playful childish thoughts and dreams. If we let our inner child shine through all those barriers we build around ourselves it is more likely that our true,authentic and unique artist voices will shine through in our paintings.
And now I must go and put a mincepie out for Rudolph…. or is it Santa who gets the pie? Either way…. have a wonderful Christmas and may all your dreams come true! X