When people set out to buy a meaningful gift, they’re rarely looking for just an object. More often, they’re searching for a feeling—a sense of connection, an unspoken recognition that says this is right.
At Motawi, and at the museums and galleries we’re lucky to partner with, we see these moments unfold every day. When we asked a few of the people closest to them what actually helps someone find the right gift, their answers followed a common thread: start by paying attention.
For Rick Wedel, one of Motawi’s Makers of First Impressions, the process almost always begins with curiosity. When someone seems unsure where to start, he finds that asking about the recipient’s interests and overall style quickly narrows things down. As Rick put it, “If someone seems to be starting from scratch, I’ll often ask them about the recipient’s interests and overall style. This will often narrow things down.”
Certain answers bring clarity right away. Rick says that for Motawi's customers, “‘Gardener’ and ‘birdwatcher’ are the easiest to accommodate,” and shared that “a recent customer buying for a birdwatcher was thrilled with Who's Watching Whom.” That moment—when someone realizes this is them—is deeply satisfying.
Gifting can also feel overwhelming, especially when people worry about making the wrong choice. Rick has learned that asking about budget isn’t limiting; it’s grounding. “I’ve learned to ask if there’s a budget for the gift,” he says, “that way I don’t suggest things that are outside that range.” He’s also found that physically changing the environment can help—taking tiles out of their displays and laying them on a flat surface allows customers to compare pieces without visual noise. Even a simple question like “‘What colors do you find you really respond to?’ can be a good way to start,” because, as Rick notes, “there are often ‘must-have’ and ‘never-have’ colors mentioned.” The goal isn’t perfection—it’s helping someone feel confident.
That confidence deepens when a gift feels chosen rather than generic. At The Frick Pittsburgh, Museum Store Manager Amanda Crytzer sees this consistently. “The types of gifts that consistently resonate with my visitors are locally made or artist-made products,” she says. She finds it especially enjoyable helping visitors find the right gift, noting that “most people love to shop in our store because we have items that feel like ‘one of a kind’ items, unique, and not sold elsewhere.” That sense of discovery matters, and Amanda sees it firsthand when she observes that “my visitors are always excited to gift something that feels special.”
Sometimes, meaning comes from memory and place. Chiquita Smith, Associate Buyer at the Frank Lloyd Wright Trust, sees this when she’s able to be on site or help at events. While she isn’t with customers day to day, she treasures watching people connect with Wright’s work through the items they choose. When someone is searching for a meaningful gift, she often begins by asking what draws them to Wright—“a particular house, a pattern, or even a feeling his designs give them.” That insight, she says, “goes a long way in helping guide them toward something that will feel truly personal.”
Over time, Chiquita has noticed that “guests are often drawn to pieces that reflect Wright’s signature geometry and color stories.” Motawi tiles, in particular, stand out, because “people view them as special, lasting pieces that hold both artistry and sentiment.” What stays with her most is the moment of recognition, because, as she says, “these pieces help visitors carry a bit of their Wright experience home with them.”
I was reminded of all this recently through a personal experience of my own. After having a new headstone installed on my great-grandmother’s grave in Wichita Falls—replacing the anonymous number that had marked her resting place for seventy-five years—I finally met Shirley Gates, a cemetery volunteer I’d corresponded with many times over the past year. Shirley had helped guide the process and generously agreed to meet me at the cemetery.
As a small expression of thanks, I brought her a Motawi Lovebirds tile, featuring two doves perched in a tree. Over the months, Shirley had shared that when she’s out photographing headstones, a pair of doves often lands on the stone she’s documenting—something she’s come to see as spiritually significant. When I presented her with the tile, she teared up and told me "that's the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me."
That moment stayed with me. Not because of the tile itself, but because it spoke directly to her experience. Seeing how deeply she felt understood was unexpectedly moving.
Taken together, these stories reveal something reassuring. Meaningful gifts don’t come from rushing or guessing. They come from listening—paying attention to a person’s interests, honoring the work of makers, and recognizing the power of memory and place.
The best gifts don’t shout. They simply say, I see you.
And that’s what lasts.
