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My weekend
This was our fifth anniversary. So we did what we've managed to do each of the past years, we spent it at a renaissaince faire.
This isn't such a leap, it's where we met (years before we started going out). We both work them. I'm a street actor, and she sell flowers (that's how we met... me sending her to deliver flowers to other women).
It happens that this is the one and only weekend we could go (it's a 3 1/2 hour drive), and it happened to be our anniversary. Go figure.
We had doubts, because the faire is in the same place, in the same time frame, but it isn't the same faire. The company which has been running (which is not the company that founded it, but they assumed it, so the changes were more gradual) bailed last year.
No more faire. Some of the participants (primarily the crafters) decided it was worth trying to save. So they talked to the site owner, and got a co-op of some sort going and had a faire.
It wasn't the same, but nothing ever is. From year to year, for the better part of two decades, it hasn't been the same. It was smaller. The space was used better, and it was nostalgic. A lot of people weren't there.
But enough were to make it much of a muchness... in some ways it reminded me of the more freewheeling days of yore, for good and ill (much looser crowds, much looser accuracy). There was more music in the streets, but fewer actors.
Saturday night it rained. Sunday was cool, damp, English to the core. It drizzled, the wind blew, cottonwood leaves falling on strewn straw, and the occaisional slants of sunlight on the turning leaves of the trees. The customers never gave up, and the participants were cheerful and sense of pulling together suffused everything.
It was refreshing, right down to the bottom of one's soul refreshing.
This isn't such a leap, it's where we met (years before we started going out). We both work them. I'm a street actor, and she sell flowers (that's how we met... me sending her to deliver flowers to other women).
It happens that this is the one and only weekend we could go (it's a 3 1/2 hour drive), and it happened to be our anniversary. Go figure.
We had doubts, because the faire is in the same place, in the same time frame, but it isn't the same faire. The company which has been running (which is not the company that founded it, but they assumed it, so the changes were more gradual) bailed last year.
No more faire. Some of the participants (primarily the crafters) decided it was worth trying to save. So they talked to the site owner, and got a co-op of some sort going and had a faire.
It wasn't the same, but nothing ever is. From year to year, for the better part of two decades, it hasn't been the same. It was smaller. The space was used better, and it was nostalgic. A lot of people weren't there.
But enough were to make it much of a muchness... in some ways it reminded me of the more freewheeling days of yore, for good and ill (much looser crowds, much looser accuracy). There was more music in the streets, but fewer actors.
Saturday night it rained. Sunday was cool, damp, English to the core. It drizzled, the wind blew, cottonwood leaves falling on strewn straw, and the occaisional slants of sunlight on the turning leaves of the trees. The customers never gave up, and the participants were cheerful and sense of pulling together suffused everything.
It was refreshing, right down to the bottom of one's soul refreshing.
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hope it was lovely.
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Many good wishes.
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And refreshing isn't something I often hear in relation to Faires. It's a good change from what I usually hear.
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I have to say that working a faire is like working a convention... having been on the inside, the outside is never the same. To be honest, I have no idea, any more, why the customers come.
I know I attended before I started working, and that was good, but now... I can't see it. So much is lost with just the surface gloss. If I go to one where I don't know people, I feel out of place.
TK
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