When I was in college, I would go weeks without calling home, and I often wasn't around when home called ME.
When my mother would finally catch me in, she would say in exasperation, "Well, thank God, I thought you were dead or lying in a ditch somewhere!"
So to anyone who has wondered why I haven't posted in awhile, I assure you I am not in a ditch somewhere.
I'm in the League of New Hampshire Craftsmen's Annual Fair, and we're nearing the end of this wonderful nine-day show. We've had perfect weather and big crowds. I have a beautiful new booth and a great location for my work. I have tons of new work, and it is flying out the door.
Best of all, I am overwhelmed by the response from my customers. People love, love, LOVE my work, my aesthetic, my booth. Two women said in awe, "This is the best booth at the fair!" When I asked why they thought so (after thanking them, of course) they replied, "Because you've created an entire world."
It DOES look beautiful, and I hope to be able to post some photos soon.
What really surprised me was the response to a poem I put up. I wrote it several years ago, and for some reason, I felt compelled to hang it in a quite corner of the booth this year. It's called "Burial Song", and you can read it below. I've had many requests for copies, which I will send after the show.
The introduction is based on an actual news item I saw years ago.
Enjoy this gorgeous weekend, go make some art, and know that every day is a gift.
***************
(AP) Archeologists in France today announced the discovery
of a Neanderthal burial site. The skeletal remains of an elderly female
were interred with great care. There were various indications of
continued care of a non-productive member of the tribe. The remains
of dried flowers were buried with her......
Burial Song
She is gone.
She is gone,
and prepares the way for us...
We, left on the shores,
We, left grieving here.
Here are flowers, that she may have joy with her,
always.
Here are shells, that she may remember the Great Waters,
always.
Here are bones, that she may count the days of the Blessed.
Here are her tools,
her sewing awls, sinew, beads,
that she may make beautiful things,
and have beauty around her,
always.
We will remember her,
We, left on these shores,
We, left grieving here….
Always.
---Luann Udell
