gifted gestures

A GIFT that won't fail to be appreciated is at once personal and unique. You can never go wrong with an ornament as a gift if you match the ornament to the recipient's taste level. Also, if you put consideration into it being something symbolic of your relationship with them or something pertaining to their personality and likes, it becomes an especially thoughtful gesture. Since Matthew Mead has been an ardent supporter of my blog and has included my work in last year's and this year's issue of his holiday magazine, as well as a recent blog post where he named me "King of the Forest,"  I gifted he and his wife a literal tree ornament like the one you see above. Last year, I gave them a different tree ornament, along with a copy my book The Decorated Tree. He's already utilized this year's ornament as a prop in one of his beautiful photographs illustrating how to decorate a mantle.

EVEN IF YOU'RE a last-minute shopper, the variety and abundance of ornaments on the market during the holidays is so vast, you will surely to find something special for everyone on your list—even if they are hard to buy for. Ornaments also make great tie-ons for special gifts. Since I am on the constant lookout for the perfect ornaments to decorate the trees for this blog, I see the best-of-the-best in my collecting pursuit. I've found that selecting ornaments that are neutral in color (or even clear glass like this beautiful heart) are the best way to go when buying one as a gift, because they can be incorporated on almost any tree. And what says "I love you" more than a heart-shaped ornament? I collect heart-shaped ornaments in memory of my mother, as I maintained a yearly tradition of tying one onto a special gift to her every Christmas. The collection still grows in her memory.


THE CHRISTMAS after she passed I had a dream about her in which I gave her a brooch that inspired an entire tree. I'm including the photos of the tree here, but you can read the original post here. This tree is an assemblage of  ornaments that remind me of my mother's spirit and humor. It served as a altar of sorts to her memory. It's still one of my favorite trees because it is so symbolic of a mother's love and was completely inspired by a dream of a gift I never got to give her, except in my dream, which is why I entitled the post "Tree of Dreams."


IF YOU TAKE a closer look at this tree, you'll see a myriad of symbolic and figural ornaments, all brought together by the cohesive color scheme inspired by the brooch. Even though most family trees are a hodge-podge of family memories (and there's nothing else like them), the trees I present in my blog are designed to create a certain theme or mood, which dictates that I usually stick to a predetermined color palette as I have in this post. Still, there is room for a lot of variety within such parameters. Not long after my parents had passed, I gave ornament gifts to my siblings representing my parents (a bluebird and a butterfly). I detail the special packaging in which I presented them in this post.

The Tree of Dreams spread as it appears in my book.

THE BROOCH (or the facsimile I found after having had the dream) inspired the tree above. You'll see it at the top of the photograph above. Another brooch I happened upon this year reminded me of a Christmas tree pin my mother used to wear. The tree brooch caught my eye in a glass cabinet at the checkout of a store that sells soft drinks and snacks, of all things. I saw the brooch as I made my purchase and immediately asked to see it, and I bought it as another memento of my mother's memory. Maybe this tree brooch will inspire another traditionally-colored tree. Maybe it's a message of inspiration from my mother to create one! I think my more sophisticated adult approach is much different than one as seen through a child's eyes. Or maybe it's only a reminder from the universe to rekindle the innocence I've sometimes lost in seeing a tree as a child would see it. Any way you slice it, it's a definite creative challenge to think of a way to create that innocent wonder and magic.


HANDMADE ORNAMENTS are always welcome gifts, such as this polar bear made by my friend David Schump. In his modernized tramp art style, he creates ornaments sold on his website entitled "The Art Tramp". I've bought two ornaments from him this year and have two more on hold that he has made. He makes them in limited quantities, but I'm not sure if he has plans to make multiples of this one-of-a-kind polar bear pictured above. Please check out his site for other beautiful tramp art creations, including beautiful symbolic boxes here. The hand-blown glass deer ornament at the bottom of the photo above, is also quite special. Both ornaments would be a welcome addition to any tree, certainly adding a personality that only animals can. Animals evocative of winter are especially appropriate gifts to celebrate the winter solstice that happens just a few days before Christmas (December 21st this year). They also serve as a reminder for us to be careful stewards of the eroding environment in which such animals live.


MANY ORNAMENTS are commercially available, such as this lettered cardboard butterfly and a sturdy metal peace sign, which looks as if it's made from twigs. I gave the butterfly ornament this year as a gift to a former companion since butterflies represent his sister, who died of cancer much too early. I know how much he loved her and how he cherishes the butterfly symbol his family has adopted to represent her life. Either of these ornaments would be an appropriate gift for your more gentle, peace-loving friends, or as a special memory of one.

STARS ARE THE SHINING symbols of the light of the season. They give us hope for a future filled with the best things life can offer. It's no secret how stars have figured into my world since that special night in Tulum I've written about in posts this year. These two gold stars were gifts for Devin and serve as a reminder that while reaching for the stars in his new life in New York City, he should not forget the stars we saw on that unencumbered beach last November and the love we professed for one another. The light of the stars in such an atmospherically unobscured sky is our gift from the universe, reminding us all how insignificant we are in the big scheme of things and humbling us enough to live our lives with unconditional love.

TODAY WOULD have been my parent's 68th wedding anniversary. They were married December 23rd, 1945 and both lived short of their 60th anniversary in 2005. I feel extremely lucky to have had the bedrock example my parents both set and the real unconditional love they shared with my entire family. Love hasn't worked out so well for me, but I'm in a different situation and unable to legally marry. Maybe one day, that will become a reality wherever I live, as it has already for many in this country and around the world. But until then, I'll keep trying to find the one who will make that sort of unconditional commitment and stick by my side, for better or for worse. I am truly ready for that to happen.

MUCH LIGHT and LOVE to everyone this holiday season. May you and yours find the indefinable magic of the season. And remember those special people in your lives that are less fortunate than you, and include them in your family gatherings to share in the joy of Christmas.

©2013 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

collecting, photography and styling by Darryl Moland.

Tree photos by Claudia Lopez Photography.

a bluebird and a butterfly

WINGED CREATURES are understandably associated with transformation, freedom and an unencumbered ability to soar. That's something we earthbound humans have long held a jealous fascination with. Imagine being able to quickly dart around in thin air, ride the wind and come back down to earth whenever we wanted. It would certainly give us a different perspective of the world—a bird's-eye view—if you will. From that vantage point, I'm sure we could all see things a bit differently. We could see the awesome wonder of nature in it's entirety instead of a tree or a leaf at a time and we might have more of an appreciation for being a part of it.

MEMORIAL DAY, to me is not just about fallen military war heroes or the beginning of summer. It is also a time to reflect on what being a citizen of the world means, regardless of military affiliation. Although my father was a U.S. army veteran of WWII and came home safe, I knew his life was marked by the atrocities he saw during the war. At that time my mother worked in a manufacturing plant, taking over jobs that were usually dominated by the men who were off at war. Essentially, she was a “Rosie the Riveter,” which has become a strong symbol for feminism. These formative parts of their lives forged an amazing strength and fortitude. They met upon my father's return home from WWII, by my father seeing my mother with a girlfriend who turned her down for going to see a movie that night. My father stepped in and told her he'd go to that movie with her. And the rest is history. If they had lived another year, they would have celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. I miss hearing them tell this story, but can hear the intonation and love in their voices when I remember this.

THESE UNUSUAL jobs for their time bought claim to a proud part of history. They wouldn’t recognize our country as it is now and I’m not sure they would be entirely sold on the ideals (or lack thereof) that we seem to fight wars for these days. They were a part of the Greatest Generation—they were a part of fighting the "good war" in ending Hitler's reign. My mother and father were both “war heroes” in the battle for the ever-elusive American dream. I don't think it's because of them though that we're in the shape we're in as a country. I think our overall values have been maligned since then by corporate greed and a lack of respect for Mother Nature.

Enlarge image to a legible size by clicking on it twice.

THESE ORNAMENTS are symbols of my parents. The bluebird represents my father because of his sparkly blue eyes and the pink butterfly represents my mother because it was her favorite color. Of course both of these ornaments also represent in them everything winged creatures do, as noted in the first paragraph of this post. I bought four of each, one set for myself and the others for each my three siblings as Christmas gifts in 2007. This was two years after my parents had died. I designed a card (shown at right) to fit in the bottom of the box made for keeping them.

REMEMBRANCE is the best way to bring them close now. But I also remember the simple gift of hope for living “the American dream” that was instilled in all of us. It seems in the world we live in today, that dream is becoming distorted for more and more people as the classes divide disproportionately, leaving the middle class, of which we were a part of struggling to just get by. There's no room for dreams within that scenario. But I'll remember what my parents represented and keep plugging along. That dream was simply goodness and learning to fly.

  

WINGED FLIGHT | (Top): These glittery ornaments were both from the 2007 holiday collection at Z. Gallerie and were Christmas gifts to my siblings representing my parents. Blue was the color of my father's eyes and pink was definitely my mother's signature color. Flight was something they acquainted all of us with, even in spirit.

WINGED VICTORY | (Above): I remember seeing this several years ago when in Washington D.C. and being overwhelmed with its beauty. One of the most beautiful and symbolic memorials to the Greatest Generation, four American eagles hold a suspended laurel wreath in the Baldacchino sculpture that is only one part of the beautiful National WWII Memorial in Washington, DC. The memorial is classically-designed as it should be for the era. It was only opened to the public on April 29, 2004. Photo by Richard Latof. 

©2011 DARRYL MOLAND, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Collecting and styling by Darryl Moland,
Photo of the WWII memorial by Richard Latof, 
sculpture by Baldacchino.

holiday migration

THE  MONARCH  butterfly is known in North America for its incredible fall migration every year south and northward return home in the summer. This trip spans the life of three or four generations. Monarchs east of the Rocky Mountains (most famously) are the ones believed to overwinter and roost in the forested mountaintops within central Mexico’s Transvolcanic Range. The ones east of the Rockies travel to small groves of trees along the southern California coast. They often return to the same trees every year creating an amazingly magical sight. This miracle of nature is expressed by the tree I’ve decorated with their facsimiles for my Thanksgiving post.

JUST  AS  many species of birds migrate south for the winter, the Monarch does also. Unlike birds though, the lifespan of the butterfly during this migration is completed by children and grandchildren of the butterflies that start this incredible journey—done without their elders to show them the way. Unlike most insects, Monarchs cannot survive a long cold winter, so they migrate. Seasons change. But it might not be as simple as that.

DO  THEY  follow magnetic fields or use the sun to guide them? Are they following landforms (rivers, coastlines, mountain ranges) as their navigational tools? The innate nature of this migration has baffled and inspired researchers for decades. There is still a lot of mystery behind this yearly event. What are some of the other reasons for such a distinct migration? How long has this natural pattern been in place?

AS  SUCH, humans migrate and gather with friends and family during the holidays, usually starting with Thanksgiving day every year. Generations join together to share good times and celebratory meals together. This gathering is to celebrate life and abundance. And there is much to be thankful for, even as things change over the years for better or worse.

I  CALLED  my brother Mal yesterday to wish him a happy Thanksgiving. I haven’t been home to Alabama (where he still lives) much since my parents died five years ago. My “bro” is my family touchstone and keeps me informed about the goings-on back home. Now that my parents are gone from this world, I distinctly realize that they were the glue that held our family together as all my sibling's lives went in different directions. I miss those migratory days of going to my parent’s house for Thanksgiving and Christmas—the home I lived in until I went off to college and for a short time afterward. 

Jason Laferrara's "Viceroy" has the map.

I'LL  NEVER  FORGET  that Thanksgiving day when I got the call confirming my first job as a designer at Southern Living magazine back in 1984. Tom Ford, the art director then, I think saved the news for that special day when my career took flight. That day changed my life forever while linking it to a day of abundance. I remember my mother being thrilled that she had a son working at a magazine that had become an institution in the South. I worked at that company (most as assistant art director at Cooking Light magazine) for ten years before my move to Atlanta. I give thanks for all the familial celebrations of life—family and friends alike. There is a part of me that still fulls the pull homeward.

BUT  MAYBE  you "Can't Go Home Again." That phrase comes from the finale of Thomas Wolfe's novel of the same name. In the end its protagonist realizes, "You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame ... back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time—back home to the escapes of Time and Memory."  

THIS  TREE  is a not-so-subtle reminder of the hope that all will come together again. One day we will realize our paths in life are for more than just survival. Our better instincts will inform us—just as it does each generation of the peculiar Monarch.

CRITICAL MASS | (Top, left and below) I've simply covered this Heirloom Ornament Tree from Smith & Hawken (2005) with Monarch butterflies, ironically made from feathers as a tribute to their winter roost far south from home (from Ashland Nature Center, distributed by Michaels). The faux sugared fruit placed below it is a reminder of the abundance celebrated each American Thanksgiving.

BUTTERFLY CONGREGATION | (Middle) This amazing real-life photo of a tree covered with Monarch butterflies is from The Green Children Foundation website. Many organizations are dedicated to the education, conservation and research of the Monarch butterfly and its amazing migration. A good place to start is Monarch Watch.

ART IMITATES LIFE | (Above) Digital artist Jason LaFerra from Mechanicsville, Virginia renders beautiful artwork of insects, birds and animals on historic maps tapped into from online. These giclee prints of his digital collages on watercolor paper (especially "Viceroy" with it's own map) are resonant and beautiful. 

©2010 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Photography, collecting and styling by Darryl Moland

circles of life

THE  THREE  MATRIARCHS of my life were my mother Lois Virginia (Moland), my aunt Laura Ann (Sadler) and my aunt Wilma Elizabeth (Sherrill). Three sisters, three forces-of-nature, three strong-willed women. Three big-loving, free-thinking and infinitely-wise women. Three completions of the circle of life.

WITH  THE  PASSING of my Aunt Wilma last month, all three have now left this plane of existence. My mother led the way on July 10, 2005, my aunt Laura followed on February 16, 2007, and aunt Wilma on August 10, 2010. I'm sure wherever they are, they're still conducting their three-ring circus of life . . . the show must go on. They were sisters, but each led independent lives in concert with one another, from which our whole family learned and grew.

THIS  TREE  of life is dedicated to them. The tree is teeming with representatives of life. There's a tarnished glass glitter butterfly topping it all off: beaded flowers, pressed metal fish, leaves in skeleton form or wrapped around an orb, three dragonflies—distinctly different, a frog chasing a fly, and a snail ornament enliven this tree. Fitting as an ode to summer, the greens and yellows of the ornaments represent the warmness of the light that brings sustenance to all life (accented here by a wire surrounded sunface ornament). The three della Robbia-style wreath ornaments tied together with one ribbon represent the sisters and their connection to each other (as well as the riches gained by knowing them). The peculiar cadence brought to all that they encountered will live in every heartbeat, until we too complete the circle made from life, death and rebirth.

MY  MOTHER  left me with an unending sense of awe and wonder, that even finds a way to peek through in the lowest of moods. Somehow she is there, telling me yes (her last word to me), one more time. Yes, Darryl, it is worth it, yes, you will be OK, and yes! (leave me alone). I am a part of her, still living and breathing. I am carrying her wishes and dreams for me. Her memory is sometimes all that keeps me tracing circles in the sand, knowing full-well that the waves from the great womb of the ocean will rush ashore and erase them. So I will have to remember how they looked, how they were drawn and how they live after brushed from sight, much like a sand mandala is swept away after it is completed. It's the meditation that counts in bringing its energy into the world. And it is released once it is finished, holding no attachment to the material world, amplifying in its absence, life's transitory nature.

MY  AUNT  LAURA  helped bring me through a certain catharsis after my mother's death in a somber, but adventurous trip. She had come to visit my mother when she was in her last days and I encouraged her to stay so she could attend her funeral, after which I would drive her back to her home. A highlight of our trip back to Virginia (need I say more about the irony of that since my mother was named Virginia?) was a tour of the Biltmore House and Gardens in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Asheville, North Carolina. Once we arrived at Laura's farm in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains in Virginia, she showed me albums of old photographs, giving me a few of my mother and other family members. She told me stories relating her beliefs and gave me bits of her wisdom. She's the only person I've ever known that grew rhubarb in her garden, from which she made wonderful strawberry/rhubarb preserves every year. She was an avid gardener and loved to grow new things. She was a woman of the land.

MY  AUNT  WILMA  was a deeply religious woman. The man who gave her eulogy told those of us there, that above all, Wilma wasn't afraid to shine her light. He was talking in particular about the light of her Christianity, but I know it as her light—pure and simple, unencumbered by the judgment and rules of her faith—just as she was. She saw the inherent good in people and accepted them just as they are. She was faithful, and she knew that love is unconditional. She did not feel she had to manage anyone's life but her own and those who saw that, learned by her example. That's a big sacrifice for some in the realm of the devout these days, but it is one that warrants a respect I give to those that lead by quiet example. It's not the easiest path to take, but it is ultimately the most effective. Modern society could do well with more of an acceptance of the things that cannot be changed. The Serenity Prayer was in full effect for my aunt Wilma's life:  

God, grant me the serenity 

To accept the things I cannot change; 

Courage to change the things I can; 

And wisdom to know the difference.

WHILE  STOPPED  with a front-row seat at a train crossing on the way to aunt Wilma's funeral, I had a sudden urge to begin taking photos of the graffiti painted on the train cars passing in front of me. This Christmas tree popped up like a beacon (look to the car at the far right and click on the photo once or twice to enlarge). In the midst of subdued graffiti chaos, topped by a star, it was a clear symbol that the three of them were conspiring again and sending me a message to keep on doing what I'm doing. They brought a decorated tree to me in the most unexpected of places and in the most unexpected form. I had to smile. So it is . . . the beginning of a new season of challenge and reward in finding my passion for this blog and wherever it might lead me. The track has been set.

NEVER  TO  BE  predicted, these three matriarchs run circles around anyone else that has influenced my life. They showed me the importance of being true to yourself and believing in your place in the world. Just as I ordered actual old-fashioned wreaths of flowers for my mother and my aunt Laura for their funerals, and bought a new wreath for my Aunt Wilma a few years ago and put on her door for Christmas, the three wreaths combined on this tree represent their lives. Three sisters have shown me an unending circle of grace. And again, together, are sure to lay the track toward a future I won't be able to imagine. But as long as I have my eyes wide open, I'll be privy to what they want me to see, and know the direction to take.

TREE OF LIFE | (Above, top) This tree is teaming with life symbols from my collection of ornaments—from a butterfly to a frog chasing a fly. The della Robbia-style wreath ornaments, which I've connected by a single ribbon are from the 2008 Martha Stewart Collection at Macy's. Most of the varied, green and yellow ornaments are courtesy The Whitehurst Company. 

TWO SISTERS | (Above, right) This photo was taken of my mother and my Aunt Laura (probably in their early twenties) by an unknown photographer. I just recently discovered this photo through Laura's daughter Martha.

AUNT WILMA | (Above, left) Wilma stands stoic beside her husband holding their first born, Janice. I think her smile in this photo has the same timeless mystery as the much-dissected Mona Lisa smile. Nevertheless, she could look at you and smile back at you with pure love and understanding.

DESTINY TRAIN | (Above, bottom) I took this photo en route to my Aunt Wilma's funeral this past August. Imagine my surprise when I was photographing the different graffiti-covered train cars when a spray-painted tree appeared. Who knew I'd be presented with a Christmas tree in such an odd place? I take it as a definite sign from Virginia, Laura and Wilma that I'm on the right track with this decorated tree project, whatever form it may take and wherever it may lead.

SHINING LIGHT | (Above) This wire surrounded sun face ornament has been a part of my collection for many years. It amplifies the golden light from the large yellow ornament positioned behind it— courtesy of The Whitehurst Company.

SHADOW DWELLERS | (Above) The snail and frog ornaments are from the 2009 West Elm holiday ornament collection. West Elm has had a whimsical collection of nature-inspired ornaments in store during the holiday season for several years. The antiqued French cache pot made from wood is the perfect holder for this late summer tree.

ABUNDANT WREATH | (Above) A detail of one of the three della Robbia-style wreath ornaments, which are from the 2008 Martha Stewart Collection at Macy's.

BEADED DRAGONFLY| (Above) A delicately-detailed handmade  dragonfly was found at a shop in East Atlanta Village a number of years ago. It is made of beads both old and new.

BEADED FLOWER | (Above) A beaded flower ornament from my collection is made from wire-strung glass beads wrapped on a wire frame—a vibrant green homage to summer.

©2010 DARRYL MOLAND | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

photography, collecting and styling by Darryl Moland;
antique photos of my mother and aunts are from the Weeks family collection, 
photographers unknown.