This is a Christmas card I designed this year based on a couple of photos I took in Kennebunkport when I picked up my artwork from the Maine Women in the Arts show. It will go on sale on the Fine Art America site after the first of the year.
As a special treat for friends and family, I'd like to re-post a story written by a Sacramento friend, Donya Wicken....
(c) by Donya Wicken
I was just about fed up with Christmas shopping, cooking and
decorating and was ready to cancel the whole thing and buy a
one-way ticket to the Bahamas when I heard a tortured wail
from upstairs. I raced up to find middle son Derek
glowering self righteously at littlest son Ryan who promptly
flung himself at me sobbing. I examined him for signs of
damage and at the same time shot Derek “the look”
demanding to know what he had done to provoke this storm of
Finally Ryan calmed down enough to tell me himself. “He
said Santa Claus is really Uncle Robert” he choked out
and then collapsed again into helpless sobs.
“Derek, why did you tell him that?” I groaned in my now-look-what-you've-done voice.
“Well, it’s true isn’t it? He’s old enough to know
the truth. Anybody but a dumb little kid could have figured
it out for himself. Uncle Robert always wears such a dorky
fake beard and his ho ho hos are totally lame.”
Ryan wailed louder.
“Well, aren’t you going to tell him the truth?”
Before I could answer, a voice behind me spoke. “I’ll
tell him the truth. I’ll tell you both the truth. “ It
was oldest son Roger, sounding strangely like a super hero.
“I know the truth because I am in junior high school,”
he said. “I am old enough to know things that dumb
little kids like you are too young to understand.” He
stared straight at Derek as he spoke and I was secretly
pleased to see Derek cringe.
“All right then,” Derek challenged, “tell us the
“Yeah Roger, tell us.” Ryan looked hopefully at Roger.
“All right, you remember that Star Trek movie when the
Borg tried to assimilate Captain Picard?”
“Well which one was the real Borg?”
“Ha, that’s a dumb question,” Derek replied.
“There’s only one Borg. All those Borg people are just
part of the collective.”
”Except Captain Picard,” Ryan interjected. “He
wasn’t a real Borg. But all the others were.”
“That’s right,” said Roger. “And that’s how Santa
Ryan’s eyes opened wide and he looked like he was going to
start to wail again. “You mean Santa Claus is a Borg?”
“No dummy, “ Derek explained contemptuously. “The
Borg are bad guys. Santa Claus is a good guy. “
“That’s right, Derek, Santa Claus is a good guy. But
he is like the Borg because he is a collective. He is one
mind but he has many bodies all over the world. That’s
how he can go to all those houses in one night. And every
time somebody puts on a Santa Claus uniform he is
assimilated into the collective and becomes a Santa
“Wow.” said Ryan.
“Oh yeah,” Derek argued, “what about when somebody
puts on a Santa suit because he’s a crook and he’s going
to rob somebody’s house?”
“Then it is not a uniform. It’s just a disguise. And
when somebody does that something bad will happen to him
because you can only wear the Santa Uniform to do good deeds
and make people happy.”
“So Derek was wrong.” Ryan announced triumphantly.
“Uncle Robert isn’t Santa Claus.”
“No Ryan. That’s not what I’m saying. Uncle Robert
has been assimilated into the collective. Uncle Robert
really is Santa Claus.”
Ryan gazed at Roger with unabashed adoration. “Wow.”
“Isn’t that right, Derek?” Roger demanded.
“Well, if you tell it like that. Yeah I guess so. Is
that right, Mom?”
“It makes sense to me,” I said. “It makes a lot
more sense than most things this time of year.”
Roger walked downstairs with me. Behind us we heard the
joyful sounds of a war being organized between the Evil Borg
Collective and the Good Santa Collective. “That was
amazing, Roger," I said. "You came up with a story that satisfied both
of your brothers. How did you do it?”
“Don’t you remember, Mom? The principal chose me to
play Santa Claus for the kids at the Head Start Christmas
party. I’ve been assimilated.”