It was a Christmas that almost didn't happen, only because I thought that I wouldn't do anything regarding decoration this year. Then I zipped down to Union Square and picked up 25 feel of thick garland. After digging out a vintage sample suitcase of ornaments from basement storage, Christmas happened in a matter of 30 minutes.
Then there was a the matter of dinner on the 24th, which included a recipe of roasted duck with apple and sage stuffing, chestnuts and pears. For the table, I used a vintage 1950's table cloth that my sister gave me a few years ago.
What am I positing this now? Because I am damn sick of politics and want a little beauty. Looking back or looking forward is all the same at this point. The ugliness of what is happening politically requires a certain mentality that focuses on the "real," which goes beyond appearance and into the felt experience of being in a room with those that matter. That's Christmas, which is, oddly, beyond religion.
In my world, beauty matters. We may weight what is beautiful and what is not, but the desire, the aspiration for it, and the learning curve that accompanies it, is everything.