Keeping in touch

I have spent much of this weekend writing Christmas cards. Yes, I know I ought to have done them much, much earlier, but life gets in the way of good intentions. Still, all of them - even those going a long distance - should arrive in time and will, I hope, please the recipients and add to the festive feel of homes in all corners of the world, whether arranged on mantelpieces or tables, strung on strings or stuck to doors.

We choose our cards carefully and take pleasure in sending a small work of art, albeit in reproduced form, to all those we are close to.

Sometimes we add a note or give a bit of news; for others, nothing more than good wishes is necessary, but we look upon each one as an individual message to that person or family, and not as an indiscriminate greeting.

For instance, the skating nuns in the picture above have gone to a friend who was once a nun; a woman of formidable intellect and great humanity, she has gone on to achieve much outwith the convent.

The angels are by Phoebe Anna Traquair and are part of her astonishing murals in Edinburgh's former Catholic Apostolic Church. That card has gone to friends whom we last saw at a reception in that very building.

Surely, though, that is part of the fun of the task: finding something someone will like or which has a resonance for them, sending a beautiful image and a word or two which shows we are thinking of them. It is what everyone does, of course, but it's good to remember the point of the exercise as we work our way through a long list, ticking people off as we go, and - sadly - striking through the names of friends and family who are no longer with us and for whom it is now too late to say "Happy Christmas".

Comments

[peg]

Such beautiful cards. I love the nuns, as one of my most favourite paintings was done by a woman I know and it was of a group of nuns standing together in a school yard while children in multi coloured hats, scarves and coats played about these figures in black and white. I can remember, when I worked in a flower shop, the nuns coming in to order pots of poinsettias for the church and they did not lift those long gowns, but quietly swished through the leaves and cuttings on the floor. They would also step off the curb into that 'grey, soupy slush' at the edge of the street and again the gowns stayed in place. I am not catholic, but they were certainly a group of women that held me in awe of their behaviour - now any child who had one for a teacher would perhaps argue that they were not as full of 'holiness' as I thought them to be! I know folks will love your wonderful cards.

[Fiberjoy]

Such a thoughtful gift to individually pick out cards with specific recipients in mind. There was a year that Ed made several wood press drawings which I made into cards with a poem I wrote, but usually I just carefully select a box of cards that seems to reflect some of what we're feeling.

You are an artist in many ways.

[Kat with a K]

I bought cards yesterday but haven't started writing them yet, so you're ahead of me. :-)

[natalie]

You might know my Mum! She give art history type tours at the Church...

[Kelly]

Beautiful cards (I keep coming back to look, especially at that first one.) And thanks for the timely reminder (very much needed here) that Christmas cards can be a gift of time, thought, and attention.

[Charity]

Lovely cards! We receive so few cards here these days... people tend to just ring us up, or send an email. The cards that come in the mail, though, are always that much more special! :0)

[Elizabeth]

Gogeous cards, particularly the Phoebe Anna Traquair. The murals indeed look astonishing. The Arts & Crafts movement is a particular favourite of mine; Mackintosh designs, embroideries by Ann Macbeth and so on. I'm about to do my Christmas cards, all the same unfortunately; next year I'll follow your example.
Elizabeth

[Nan]

I love your cards, and the whole post. I just wrote up a little entry on my blog about cards. :<) I know what you mean by the missing names. As I write my cards, I too, think of all those aunts and uncles and friends to whom I no longer send off a card. A bittersweet activity writing cards; it is like a bit of poetry that expresses the passing of time, the kids growing up, the changes in our lives. Thanks for your beautiful offering.