twilight moon

THE  YEAR  I was born (1961), the song "Moon River" won the Academy Award for Best Original Song. It was Audrey Hepburn's theme song in her role as Holly Golightly in the the movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's" adapted from the Truman Capote novel of the same name. I remember singing that song out loud when I was a little boy. I knew the lyrics by heart. Johnny Mercer wrote them using word imagery inspired by his childhood in Savannah, Georgia, which resonated deeply with this Southern boy. I grew up in a house on a bluff across from the Coosa river in Alabama and dreamed of "crossing it in style, someday."

A  FITTING end to summer and beginning of the autumnal equinox this year was the Super Harvest Moon. Usually, the Harvest Moon is the closest full moon to beginning of the fall season, but this year it actually coincides with the changing of seasons, making it "Super." It was 1991 when this last happened. Here in the Northern Hemisphere, the sun set on the Western sky while the full moon rose opposite to it in the Eastern sky, creating a magical twilight that was illuminated by the sun and the moon at the same time, hence the name "Harvest Moon." It was named such because the farmers could harvest their crops by the light reflected by the moon from the sun. My photo below was taken after the moon had risen in the sky. I didn't make it to the park in time to see the gigantic, low-to- the-horizon Harvest Moon, which is due to a perceptual effect called the Moon illusion. Even so, as fall begins in the Northern Hemisphere, spring begins in the Southern Hemisphere.

HAVING  REDISCOVERED one of my all-time favorite tree decorations in storage a few weeks ago—a large hand-blown amber mercury glass moon face ornament—I photographed it in its singular beauty with a small branch from the large evergreen in the photo of the full moon below. I had never encountered this beautiful evergreen in a park I've been to on numerous occasions. Actually, I had a completely different blog post planned, but I felt this event had some sort of special significance.  

ACCORDING  TO my friend who is a psychic and astrologer, Cathy Burroughs, "this [lunar event] is an earth-shaking combination with the Sun and Saturn in Libra, Pluto and the North Node of Life Path in Capricorn, the South Node of past life gifts in security-minded Cancer, together with Full Moon in Aries with Uranus and Jupiter in Pisces is enough to tear us apart—hopefully to be reassembled in accordance with our higher evolutionary path." I don't know enough about astrology to make complete sense of all that, but it sounds like something quite out of the ordinary. According to Cathy, "it's a perilously, mercilessly rocky ridge around this bad boy."  

HERE'S  HOPING all this upheaval still signifies a fruitful harvest from the abundance the universe holds for all of us. And with the rarefied light reflected back gloriously by the full moon, this year's holiday magic begins!

MAN IN THE MOON | (Top) This beautifully evocative amber mercury glass ornament was hand blown and is quite large (about 5 1/2 inches in diameter). It was distributed by Department 56. I've had this ornament for well over a decade—it has always seemed to me to have such a serene personality and its face always reminds me of "my Huckleberry Finn" (Lowell, in the Polaroid picture at right, who lured me from my home state of Alabama to my life in Atlanta). Never failing to make me smile, we always hung this ornament on the trees we had together. Talking to him tonight at dinner, I came home afterward and photographed it. Lowell and I are still friends after a 6-year relationship back in the 90's. Being such a nester, I am still in Atlanta, but he—ever the adventurer—is now living in San Carlos, California with partner Frank.

TWILIGHT TREE | (Above) This evergreen tree frames the Super Harvest Moon after it has risen in the sky at twilight on September 22, 2010 at Freedom Park in Atlanta, Georgia.

©2010 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

photography, collecting and styling by Darryl Moland,
photo of Lowell by unknown photographer 

faith, hope, love and luck

WHEN I mentioned photographing the four leaf clovers Jon and I found last year, my Irish friend Patrick Brady was quick to say, "not to nitpick, but shamrocks only have three leaves. Saint Patrick used the shamrock to teach the Pagans about the Holy Trinity." I guess I've never really made that distinction, so I won't dispute my good friend, or push my luck. After all, he challenged me to create the St. Patrick's Day tree you see here. He's been very supportive of my blogging efforts. And this is my way of returning the favor while celebrating his Irish heritage along with him. Whether Saint Patrick drove all the snakes out of Ireland, or all the Pagans, it matters not—I prefer not to make comparisons. Snakes can be as beneficial as a good Pagan in Mother Nature's mix.

IT IS SAID that the four leaves of a lucky clover stand for faith, hope, love and luck. The Father, Son and Holy Spirit represented by a three leaf clover (or shamrock) could also use a little luck in my book—just as any concept of faith—it's always inherent in the very nature of believing in the supernatural. It is a leap of faith (and a little luck) that helps one resolve any set of beliefs. Most Pagan traditions have been disguised in subsequent Christian traditions. Four leaf clovers were Celtic charms predating Christianity and believed to be potent against malevolent spirits. This is how the power to bring good luck comes into play. It is obvious that the rarest form of clovers has four leaves. So, I'll leave my luck at that.

THE  IRISH  FLAG colors of green, white and orange together are quite cheerful. I've seen a few pop up in the neighborhood in the last few days and think how fresh they look against the pale blue/gray of the spring sky. With this Saint Patrick's Day tree, I wanted to use this vibrant color combination in full. And I usually prefer to leave the conical shape of an evergreen tree for the winter holidays. 

THE SEVEN sacred trees of the Irish culture are oak, hazel, apple, yew, ash, holly and pine. Each clan of Ireland centered around such a Chieftain tree totem. The forests were revered because they gave so much sustenance, while supporting the Old Irish in mind, body and spirit. It's no wonder they are so rooted in the Irish psyche. Because of this, I wanted a tree that that formed an iconic shape most commonly thought of with such trees, and I was lucky enough to find one that I could modify. 

THE HISTORY of ancient Ireland is steeped in the lore of supernatural beings and home to ancient artifacts and structures dating back to 3100 B.C., Ireland's prehistoric passage-tombs are in the historical realm of England's Stonehenge or even the Egyptian pyramids. So it seems there's a lot more Irish culture to explore than the Saint Patrick's Day holiday. This only scratches the surface of the rich history of Ireland. I'll need lots of hope, faith, love and luck to find out more and continue my quest to bring historical relevance to the art of the decorated tree.

COLORS OF THE CLAN | (Above, right) This tree is composed using a wire tree made "ancient" from Pier One Imports. I reshaped this tree sold as an Easter tree, by brushing off most of the glitter and straightening out the curled stems. The cylindrical ornaments representing the Irish flag are from Department 56 and the small green ornaments tied with thin orange ribbon were found at Marshalls and on Ebay. The glass shamrock ornament hanging from the table drawer pull is a KD Vintage design from Bayberry Cove. At the base of the tree lies a stem of Bells of Ireland tied with a kelly green ribbon.

IRISH SYMBOLS | (Above, left) The glass shamrock ornaments are by KD Vintage and from Bayberry Cove. The two small four leaf clover ornaments and indent ornament (a four leaf clover within the indent and shamrock design glittered on the exterior) were found on Ebay. The small reproductions of Saint Patrick's postcards were bought from Bayberry Cove and are from the Annie Schickel collection.

GOOD LUCK CHARMS | (Right) These four leaf clovers found by Jon and I last year during a streak of good luck (in close succession), were pressed in a hiker's flower press from Martha Stewart's defunct Martha by Mail catalog.

©2010 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 photography and styling by Darryl Moland

seeds of the trees

C O N I F E R S   are by definition cone bearers. The seed-bearing "fruit" of pines, firs, cypress and yew (according to some) is the inspiration for some of the first molded glass ornaments made in Germany. Pinecones were believed to be symbols of motherhood and fertility, so were given to brides and grooms to hang on their first holiday tree together. As for my increasingly fertile ornament collection, if I were organized enough to have it catalogued, I'm sure the largest bulk of it is glass cones in as many shapes and sizes as you can imagine. Some are pictured (at right and below) and others are pictured on a tree in a previous post.

A S   P I N E C O N E S   are naturally beautiful by themselves and dry wonderfully, they are brought inside used as decor (or kindling) in many homes. Painted, glittered and coaxed into wreaths, garlands and even boutonnieres, they have endless decorative appeal. The Southern Longleaf Pine is the official tree of the state of Alabama where I was raised. There, in my earlier years, I've mowed over pinecones when cutting the grass or painfully stepped on them when running around barefoot in the summer. Even so, I've always had an affinity for their natural beauty. And attracted to glittery things early on, I remember a ribboned and glittered pinecone doorknob hanger (not unlike this one) my mother would hang on the inside knob of the front door every holiday season.

B O T A N I C A L L Y,  conifers are non-flowering plants (gymnosperms). Pollinated by the wind, their seeds are not enclosed within a fruit or seed pod. It wasn't until later in the evolution of plants that flowering trees (angiosperms) evolved. Female cones open up to catch the pollen from male cones. The usually flat, papery seeds that develop  fall out of the open cone when it matures and dries out. The cones can be soft and small, like juniper "berries" or as large as ten to twenty inches long such as those of the Sugar Pine.

L A S T   W E E K, Jon surprised me with a new book named Lives of the Trees. Diana Wells, the author has written An Uncommon History of 100 trees. You can listen to an NPR interview with the author here. The publisher (Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill) states: 

"as she investigates the names and meanings of trees, telling their legends and lore, she reminds us of just how innately bound we are to these protectors of our planet. Since the human race began, we have depended on them for food, shade, shelter and fuel, not to mention furniture, musical instruments, medicine, utensils and more.

Wells has a remarkable ability to dig up the curious and the captivating: At one time, a worm found in a hazelnut prognosticated ill fortune. Rowan trees were planted in churchyards to prevent the dead from rising from their graves. Greek arrows were soaked in deadly yew, and Shakespeare's witches in Macbeth used Gall of goat and slips of Yew to make their lethal brew. One bristlecone pine, at about 4,700 years old, is thought to be the oldest living plant on earth. All this and more can be found in the [book's] beautifully illustrated pages (themselves born of birch bark)."

E N D L E S S L Y   fascinating and rich with lore and legend, it's hard to see running out of subject matter for The Decorated Tree (of Life)! The connection we all have to trees is as deeply-rooted in our collective psyche as the trees are to the ground on which we walk. The ritual of decorating them to celebrate almost any occasion is just as resonant, whether it be a Christmas tree; a bride's favor tree; or as I'm planning in time for February 14th, a Valentine cookie tree (look for it here).

CONE COMPOSITION | (Above, right): Easily the largest part of my ever-growing ornament collection is comprised of glass cones such as these. (From top to bottom), a silver and white cone from the Martha Stewart Collection (2009) for Macy's, an elongated bronze Republic of Czechoslovakia cone from Department 56, a chunky rounded bronze cone from the Martha Stewart Collection (2009) for Macy's, a green Czechoslovakian cone from Cost Plus World Market, and a Waterford Holiday Heirlooms cone. The cones are composed on a piece of tree bark Jon found while walking his dogs, which he saved for me to use as a photography prop. 

BOOK OF TREES | (Above, left): Lives of the Trees by Diana Wells is quite an interesting and rich reference for 100 types of trees, from the Acacia to the Yew. It is published by Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, a division of Workman Publishing. Three of the largest cones are Polish-made ornaments. The small green cone with a blown glass loop is from the Martha Stewart Collection (2007) for Macy's. Others are unidentified from my collection, both new and antique. All is contained in a live edge mango wood bowl from Target. 

©2010 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

collecting, photography and styling by Darryl Moland

free fall

Laden Autumn here I stand
Worn of heart,
    and weak of hand:
Nought but rest seems 
    good to me,
Speak the word that 
    sets me free.
                —William Morris  

F A L L   T R E E S  become a saturated blaze of earthy color after a spring and summer of growth. The first artwork I created that got any attention started with a crudely painted bare tree trunk and limbs, then daubed with red, green, brown and yellow leaves applied with bits of sponge dipped in tempera paint, which I'm recreating in the photo at right (except with glass leaf ornaments). I did this sponge painting in kindergarten and proudly brought it home to give to my mother. She considered it a "masterpiece" (as only a mother can do). She kept the tree painting folded neatly in her drawer for as long as I can remember and would pull it out occasionally to show to friends and relatives.

P A I N T I N G  was one of the first indications that I had an eye for arts and crafts. My mother keeping and cherishing that painting as she did let me know it was nothing ordinary. Her tucking it away for safekeeping like it was something precious probably had more to do with my becoming a visual artist than any raw talent I ever had. It gave me the confidence inherent in creating something and taught me to love expressing myself with the raw materials of color, texture and form. My eyes turned into visual sponges—like those bits of paint-soaked sponge that I used to create that fall tree. My interest in absorbing the visual beauty of my surroundings started right then and there.

M Y   K I N D E R G A R T E N  teacher was also our next-door-neighbor where I grew up, so school was an easier transition for me than a lot of kids. I always excelled in school because I loved the adventure of learning new things. I was one of the geeky popular kids—the good-grade set with social skills. My parents were both actively involved in my sibling's lives—as stretched out as they were (I came along ten years after my brother Mal). One or both of my parents was always nearby in all our extracurricular endeavors (the band for my sister and I, and the football team for my two brothers), so I was what they called one of the "good kids," probably only because I knew mother and daddy would promptly find out if I ever did anything wrong.

M O T H E R   A L W A Y S  let me take charge of decorating the Christmas tree each year, once I was old enough to do so, and it became a lifelong passion that has grown to obsessive proportions. That's why I'm doing this blog. I have a lot to share and have amassed an enormous array of decorations and ephemera with which to do it. I'm less than two years away from being fifty, so it seems like a natural progression during the autumn years of my life. It is also a means by which to collect my thoughts and ideas for a book called "The Decorated Tree" that I want to publish someday. And it's all about freeing this dream I've had for years and making it a reality.

W I L L I A M   M O R R I S, who wrote the short poem that begins this blog post was a leader in the Arts and Crafts movement begun in the late 19th century. The more I read about him (shown, left, at age 37), the more it seems my ideas about resolving craft with industrialization are in alignment. Today, that means retooling a new appreciation of things still well-made by industry by sorting through the mounds of schlock that is mass-marketed. Modern society, as Morris feared, has become all about being fast and cheap and has lost a lot of historical context in translation. He rejected the opulence of the Victorian era and urged a return to medieval traditions of design, craftsmanship and community. Aside from being a poet, an artist and a social reformer, he is probably most well-known for perfecting the use of woodblocks for printing the nature-inspired wallpaper and textiles he designed, many of which are still in use today in one form or another. His political writings were geared toward a push away from the dehumanizing effects of the Industrial Revolution and a longing for a society in which people could enjoy craftsmanship and simplicity of expression.

M Y   S I G H T S  are set less broadly than his (or maybe not), but in any account, that is exactly what I want to do with the holiday tree, which has all but become a meaningless decorative concoction without much reverence to the natural world and the history that created it. It hasn't always been that way. I believe that life ultimately finds its true meaning in nature and we must revere our history. And like a vibrant falling leaf, I hope to find good ground to nourish and tap into a time-honored wellspring of renewed ideas. 

MEMORY TREE | Almost 40 years later, I recreate that kindergarten tree painting (above, right), except, instead of daubs of paint sponged on for leaves, there are glass ornaments. The broad leaves are made by Department 56, the narrow ones are from Cost Plus World Market (past season). The tree is topped by an owl ornament from West Elm (past season). Surrounded by moss and real autumn leaves, the nut ornaments (atop the faux-finished memory box) symbolize rebirth: a glittered-glass walnut by Martha Stewart Everyday at Kmart, a walnut and a chestnut by Inge Glas (past seasons). 

KEEPSAKE MEMORIES| Here I am at about age 10 next to the Christmas tree at home (in 1971), accompanied by a handmade Christmas card painted for my parents with my school picture pasted on it (above, center) made around the same time. 

ARTIST AND CRAFTSMAN | William Morris (bottom, left), born in 1837, was directly inspired by the flora and fauna of the natural world and warned of the dehumanizing effect of the Industrial Revolution. He is known as the Father of the Arts and Crafts movement which got its start in the latter 1800's. Painting by George Frederic Watts, circa 1870. 

©2009 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, collecting, photography and styling by Darryl Moland. Painting of William Morris by George Frederic Watts.