Robin May Flemingのインスタグラム(robinmay) - 12月8日 05時27分

At first it felt like clutter. My eyes, resigned after 11 months to stark, sprawling white, crashed hard into the greens, the reds, the lights, so many lights! I briefly toyed with the idea of a Minimalist Christmas—just a handful of ornaments scattered in beiges, whites, and gold. To be that person.... Imagine? I imagine it often. I imagine being someone who glides through life the way they glide through their scraped-bare spaces, serene. And then a week passes, and then another. And my grandma’s crocheted Santa winks from the tree. The fluffy owl that topped our very first tree of married life winks, too, content beneath the star I broke and then re-bought because I loved it so, that I pack in a 90s-era Club Monaco box, with layers and layers of yellow-edged foam. The lights tangle, literally. No poetry here. And I have to breathe through the process of releasing them from one another. How many people are doing the exact same thing, in this exact same moment? Christmas roars in my ears, joyous.

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