Yesterday I vended at my last craft market of the summer season. Rehearsals begin shortly and I will not be free on the weekends again until October. The season has been up and down, some great markets (I sold a quilt to a complete stranger at one. Always a total thrill!) and some not so great markets (I sold one single, lonely item at SOWA back in July).
I am usually exhausted after each market day- the act of talking to strangers about myself & what I do really takes it out of me. After all, I do spend a lot of my time by myself, sewing projects in my quiet little back room. You get used to the quiet and the company of self. Theater keeps me outgoing but in a rehearsal room, I know everyone. It takes less effort. Strangers can make me tired, especially the ones who tell you the types of products I “should be making” or the ones who look at me like I’m crazy for asking $100 for a baby quilt that clearly took hours and hours to make.
But then there are the people who warm my soul. The fellow quilters who come by to tell me about their guilds or trade names of fabric shops. The daughters who stop in to describe the quilt they inherited from their mothers or grandmothers (or, in one story this weekend, from their great-grandmothers). We all marvel at the women who sewed those quilts by hand, without electricity. One woman this summer stayed for a long time, talking to me about her time living in East Germany before the wall fell and then bought a square business card case for her daughter because she liked it and so would tell her granddaughter to get square business cards (I remain curious how that played out!).
Now that the season has drawn to a close for me, I’ll also miss the energy of the kids who come into the booth, drawn there by curiosity (“What is all this”) and by the bright colors, by the draw of perhaps finding a present for their moms and a place where they can spend $5.00 of their allowance. Some of my favorite encounters have been with kids. Early in the season, a little girl bought one of my mom’s soap satchels. Her mom had her use her allowance money but I could see the little girl’s grandfather slip her a $5.00 bill. Another little boy asked if he could have one of my business cards and tried to pay for it. When I told him it was free, his entire face lit up and he went running to his mother, “Mommy!!! Look what I have!!!” He came back for a second free card.
Yesterday at SomerStreets in Somerville may have been my favorite encounter though. Just as the School of Honk parade neared the area, a boy of about 7 raced his bike into my tent, in full panic mode. “I’ve lost my dad! I don’t know where he is, he’s probably worried!” He told me his name and his dad’s name and I told him to definitely stay right there – his dad was probably looking for him and staying still would be the best idea (girl scout training, thank you very much). The parade had separated the two and his dad was just in the back of the parade so we found his dad easily. But it warmed my heart -I like to think that little boy rode his bike into my tent because I clearly have the face of a kindly Tante. That my nephew, if he ever got lost, would also be drawn to his friendly neighborhood quilter or crafter and that they would reward his faith in a quilter or crafter.
For now, a little break from the market scene and a little more time spent on finishing full quilts. But keep an eye on those tents again in October. I’ll see you there!
thequiltedchuppah 