Xmas is such a brand now. So much merchanising owned by rich fat cats who peddle a pseudo microexperience under the general brand, the art of christmas. As if by quantifying it and putting a price tag on it absolves us to soul search around the true meaning of Xmas in a spiritual way. I do not know why the word “spiritual” baffles some people. We are all spiritual beings, in that if there were no spirit to impel us, we’d be, well, you know. Tot. Mort. Dodos. Without spirit, we would be like zombies, sleepwalking from shop to shop, emptying our bank accounts to fill up our homes with clutter.
The true meaning of Xmas is for each of us a very subjective thing. In my case, I left all my Xmas trees in Greenwich Park this Xmas. They can be visited by you and your cameras 365 days a year. Adore them, because in the world the trees are our lungs.
Recycle your plastic trees as well when this charade is over.