tree of dreams

THE HOLIDAYS are a time for family, no matter what form that concept may take—friends, partners, spouses, pets, siblings, sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, grandchildren . . . or some combination of all of the above. But it's our mother that brings us the most profound connection to nature by her very essence as bearer of new life. We are all a part of them as much as they are part of us. My mother richly infused my memories of the holiday by encouraging me each year to use my creativity in decorating our family tree. Since there were ten years between my next oldest brother Mal and I, there was enough room for me to do so. My brothers were both jocks and not really interested in such things anyway. And my sister had already found her own life. We all had a hand in it when I was younger, but after a point, it became my own canvas—to sometimes dismal effect (like the tree limited to an all-white color scheme with homemade paper doily fans, which looked quite funereal). My mother provided all the room she could have to let me experiment by allowing me to buy ornament kits and letting me use my imagination in configuring the tree with the ornaments we had and the new ones I created. I always took this challenge with great glee and was successful more times than not.

THIS TREE of silver and pink was inspired by a dream I had of her. Shortly after her death, I dreamt about her finding a Christmas present from me­—a pink and silver rhinestone brooch. Though she never received it physically, this tree is an offering to her spirit. It was as if, in order to celebrate her life, I was now charged to keep the flame of creativity she helped spark in me. Her mischievous exuberance is captured by the varied animals (a giraffe, birds, a Christmas spider, and even a mouse) combined with sparkly baubles, flowers, leaves and stars; all evoking the brilliance of the brooch gift I had for her in the dream. Friends tell me that this photograph looks like an altar, and it is, of sorts. Every tree should garner such a response. There should be a light within it, even if it isn't illuminated with actual lights. My coworker Dan told me the tree I put up at work this year didn't need lights because it had a sparkle all-it's-own.The light and magic of a well-decorated tree is evocative of the historical and natural context of our collective memories and should speak to that sense of wonder, whether directly personal or a homage to generational history.

MY PARENTS instilled in me this sense of wonder during the holiday. I carry this with me and am sharing it here—creating a testament to their spirit. Plenty of holiday trees I see each year have become overwrought with elements that have little meaning or relevance to the time-honored traditions of the decorated tree, but my intent is to bring it all back in focus, by giving historical context as to why certain decorations and themes are more richly relevant than others. It really all depends on what is important to you and your family of choice—the spirit of Christmas is ultimately for the kid in all of us—and it's easy to find a pure sense of self when you're decorating with something in mind to honor—not unlike an altar to your memories of the people with which you share or have shared your life.

INSPIRATION  for a tree can take many forms. I probably take that more seriously than most people do because I've continued to grow and nurture the seeds my mother planted in me years ago. All the trees I've created in my lifetime hold memories of places I've been, people I've known and people I cherish with associations I've made in my collecting wherever I go. And nature is the base source of this inspiration. You can find incredible color schemes within one seashell or the pinks and grays of a winter sky after a freshly-fallen snow. There's nothing more magical than towering evergreens covered in snow—the sparkle and texture found in such a scene is awe-inspiring in its unadorned simplicity—sweet dreams are made of this. Embellishing those dreams and making them into reality are the stuff of wonder and surprise. 

PRETTY IN PINK | My mother's "signature" color was pink, so this tree (above, right) serves her memory well (as well as my dream of my gift to her of a pink-and-silver brooch). The seemingly random mix of ornaments are tied together only by color and my interpretation of my mother's creative spirit. They all represent some aspect of her exuberant, sometimes loud, always unique and endearing personality. The ornaments are from my own private collection of antique ornaments and newer baubles—from sources far-and-wide: Target once had an incredible line of ornaments designed by Thomas O'Brien (the tree topper and silvery-blue ornaments), the pink and silver tinsel tree and mouse ornament are from the now defunct Martha by Mail catalog. This "altar" to her memory is flanked by two mercury glass candlesticks with flames softly framed by vintage-style bottle brush wreaths. 

MOTHER'S CHILDREN | That's me on the far left (above, left) looking off into the trees even then, at only three years old.The photo was taken on a 1964 summer vacation by my father: My brother Ronald stands ever-stoically in the background, my sister Donna pensively holds me safe, and my brother Mal stands smiling to the left of my mother—the best mother anyone could have—in her boldly-striped dress. Here we are a few years ago (left) in the same configuration sans our mother (made not long after both parents died in 2005). 

NATURAL MAGIC | This sepia-toned grouping of evergreen trees (above, right) covered in snow form an iconic and magical silhouette against a wintry sky—a sight rarely seen in the American South where I was reared. I haven't lived farther north than Atlanta, where I now reside. A significant snow is a rare occurrence in the winters here.

©2009 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED,

collecting and styling by Darryl Moland, 

photography (Top—Pretty in Pink) Claudia Lopez, 

(Above—Natural Magic) iStock Photo.com
 

tree of light

IMAGINING the first holiday tree, it must have been the lighted ones that really touched the primal spirit of our collective psyche. Like the first magical fire that danced in front of man's eyes, the addition of light brought the sparkle and wonder alive. There is no doubt that the decorated tree has become one of the most beloved and well-known symbols of life during the holidays.

AN ANCIENT custom, the decorated tree has played an important part of winter celebrations for centuries. Whether it was the Pagans honoring the spirit of nature with festivals incorporating decorated trees; the Vikings believing that the cold darkness of winter would end with the light of spring returning, as long as there was an evergreen around; the Druids of ancient England and France using fruit and candles to decorate oak trees—honoring the gods of harvest; or the Romans celebrating Saturnalia by arranging trinkets and candles on trees—the ritual of decorating a tree is stored deeply into the collective consciousness of our holiday celebrations.

IF  IT WAS the patron Saint of Germany, Saint Boniface chopping down the Oak of Thor in a stage-managed confrontation with the old gods and "heathen" tribes—and claiming the small fir tree growing up in the roots of this oak as a new symbol of Christianity; the initiator of the Protestant Reformation, Martin Luther being inspired to light an evergreen with candles to illustrate to his family, the twinkling of stars through the fir trees at night; or the German Christians adopting the evergreen indoors during the new Christian holiday, the decorated tree is a ritual that represents an inspired collective of ideas and beliefs.

THE TRADITION spread throughout Europe, culminating in the first real media attention for the custom when engravings of Prince Albert, who was German, along with his wife Queen Victoria decorated the first Christmas tree at Windsor Castle in 1841 and it was written up in the London Times replete with an engraving (see below for a later illustration in color). They decorated their famous tree with candies, gingerbread, fruits, nuts and candles to their children's delight.

GERMAN IMMIGRANTS came to America in the 1830's, bringing Christmas ornaments with them. Most Americans still considered the Christmas tree a heretical symbol of Paganism. One of the first public displays of a Christmas tree was set up by German settlers in Pennsylvania. But it wasn't until the late 1800's that Americans began adopting the irresistible custom of the Christmas tree.

EVEN  IF none of these legends are entirely true, the origin of the decorated tree in modern times has many connections to Germany where the first glass ornaments—humble representations of evergreen pine cones were made. Even in parts of Germany where evergreen trees were scarce, families would build a Christmas pyramid—a simple tiered structure decorated with branches and candles. Pagan or Christian, the act of decorating a tree, for whatever reason, resonates with most of the world's population. 

CHRISTMAS  TREES were then decorated with nuts, apples, cookies, strung and colored popcorn, and candles while European ornament collections were begun. Electricity brought strung-together lights in the early 20th century. The idea of  the lighted tree spread as quickly as electricity and Christmas trees became a household fixture during the holidays. And in communities across the globe large outdoor displays of holiday trees and lights have been adopted over the years—the world lighting up with the magic of the winter season.

ON  THIS  ELEVENTH day of September, we in America still have a lot of candles to light and a lot of thoughts and prayers to be answered, either by God or by our own actions. And it's not lost on me, but my eleventh blog follower, after resistance to the chaos he finds in my life, has finally realized that this blog is my way of digging through  the rubble of a passion to collect and making something of it. Thank you Mr. Jon Chavez for being patient with me and being the brightest light in my life. The number eleven has truly become significant for me (a time prompt from spirit guardians or not). I'm making a wish before I extinguish any flames. 

SPARKLE AND LIGHT | Pine cones—long symbols of fertility and even eternal life—were some of the first German glass ornaments made for use on the holiday tree. I gathered my collection to decorate the most perfectly-shaped fir tree I could find (photos above). Simply adorned with a widely-varied, but singular collection of old and new pine cone decorations, this tree evokes a timeless historical elegance. It is draped with an antiqued tinsel garland from Bethany Lowe Designs (above, right). The candles held atop the trees branches in metal pine cone-shaped clips from Germany create a beautiful flickering warm light unparalleled by modern electric lights. The lighting of the tree became an occasion that year (2007) and was a pure celebration of the origin(s) of the decorated tree. The finial glass tree topper was made for the brilliant Thomas O'Brien retromodern ornament collection for Target several years ago.

©2009 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
collecting and styling by Darryl Moland, photography by Jon Rou

HISTORY AND MYSTERY | In these two illustrations, Martin Luther is shown to be one of the first to place candles on the branches of the evergreen tree brought inside (above, left) and the English monarchy that was Victoria and Albert are credited for popularizing the decorated tree in 1841 (above, right).