Slow Gifts
Would you rather: spend time in a mall, or "pee through your eyes"?
This holiday was pretty mellow. Having spent too much time & money partying all through December, I was ready to lay low. That, and the fact that Christmas seemed to suddenly appear out of nowhere.
My own family doesn't really do much since my mom passed away a few years ago, other than one eating/cocktail/wee-cousins-getting-gifts gathering, usually held at my sister's place. That's a nice get in/get out event: dress up, wrap gifts, drink, say hi to siblings I see once a year, eat bon bons, go home.
My husband's family is another story. Christmas trees, baking, ornaments, siblings traveling from out of town, getting up at 7am to crowd around the tree, huge breakfast, more baking, huge dinner. Then there's the whole gift thing. When I first married into this family, I was awed by the amount of gifts that were exchanged. My mother-in-law is an amazing woman who loves to fill her already-packed day with buying the right gifts for each of her four children and their respective partners. I've always been amazed at how she found the time to do this. I can barely make it out to buy toothpaste.
I used to be a bit of a packrat, so accumulating lots of great stuff over the holidays was fabulous. Over the years, however, I realized I was accumulating way too much of that stuff {insert George Carlin joke here}, and I got tired of dusting and finding places to display said stuff. Add the birth of a kid who does nothing but accumulate stuff, and it wasn't long before we showed up on an episode of Hoarders.
All that coupled with the idea that I was feeling pretty lucky with what I had in terms of family, and that not many are as fortunate, I started asking for less stuff. Or asking for a donation, like a goat, or microloan, or something similar. This thread of thinking caught on with others in the family, and over the past few years, the giant pile of glossy gifts under the tree has dwindled. Less stuff to pack in the car, less stuff to find a place for, happier recipients in a far off land. Huzzah.
A nice bonus to this Less Stuff deal was the introduction of a Kris Kringle-type exchange among the siblings and their partners. Pick a name out of a hat and that's the only gift you have to give. The kicker? It has to be handmade.
Cutting up classic comics to accompany a story written when he was 11, the maker turns an otherwise plain notebook into something more amusing {the story is so bad, you can't help but laugh}.
Having your own glass kiln opens up possibilities for giftgiving.
Taken at a windfarm in the prairies.
This was a very welcome treat. It's a chance to step away from the evil that is shopping, avoiding the whole wait-til-last-possible-minute-to-throw-money-at-a-gift-they'll-never-use nonsense. And seeing as most of us are in creative industries but spend too much time on our computers, it's also a chance to get back to basics, to get our hands dirty again.
My son's favourite game "Would You Rather" translated into a hand-illustrated book. Funny choices to make, except for the final one that involved choosing between not ever having a pet or having one for a year to love, then being forced by your parents to eat it. That last one didn't go over too well.
Cutting up classic comics to accompany a story written when he was 11, the maker turns an otherwise plain notebook into something more amusing {the story is so bad, you can't help but laugh}.
Having your own glass kiln opens up possibilities for giftgiving.
Taken at a windfarm in the prairies.
This was a very welcome treat. It's a chance to step away from the evil that is shopping, avoiding the whole wait-til-last-possible-minute-to-throw-money-at-a-gift-they'll-never-use nonsense. And seeing as most of us are in creative industries but spend too much time on our computers, it's also a chance to get back to basics, to get our hands dirty again.
My son's favourite game "Would You Rather" translated into a hand-illustrated book. Funny choices to make, except for the final one that involved choosing between not ever having a pet or having one for a year to love, then being forced by your parents to eat it. That last one didn't go over too well.
Part guidebook, part diary, this notebook for an upcoming honeymoon to Croatia will serve as a memorable keepsake.
two classic games in one, this Scrabble Cube hints at memorable moments in the recipient's life. A pain to fit words together, but fun to make nonetheless {working in a home woodshop = awesomeness}.
Perfect for the writer that needs a notebook at all times, this personalized Moleskine has hidden pulp culture treats scattered throughout the pages.
2009 was the second annual such exchange, and it turned out beautifully. Seems everyone had fun making their gifts, and all recipients seemed quite happy. So instead of loathing everything about Christmas, due mostly to rampant commercialism and Stuff Accumulation, I'm now happy to be part of this annual family 'art collective'. Fun to both make and receive, it's a great way to slow down and truly think about what you're giving. Time and thought are valuable commodities that cannot be replaced.
