Photographs of Tasha Tudor have always reminded me of my great grandmother, Lyda Rebecca Pair, who dressed very similarly, cooked on a wood stove, had no running water, dipped snuff with a chewed twig, and spat the icky stuff in a blue Chase & Sanborn Coffee can.
I think she would have looked very cute with a pair of fairy wings on her back. She died at the age of 96 when I was 6.
That's me, looking very much like a little boy, sitting next to her.
I started creating my own fairies for escape
and respite during a double-whammy-dismal time.
Over a period of several years I noticed that both
their expressions and poses got happier as I did.
Eventually, I didn't need them anymore; which
was a bit sad since they were done with more love
and passion than anything else I have ever made.
My husband, Greg, doesn't form
many attachments. Even so, he has told me
that if anything ever happens to me, he could
never let Meg go. That is one of the most
treasured things I have ever been told.
Meg was made in 1996,the year my first husband
and I divorced and the fairies started smiling.
I think I made the last fairy in 1999.
Getting ready for the festival has been fun... making wings and costumes for me, and floral leather collars, pendants, earrings, necklaces, shoe pins, belts, and hat bands to offer festival attendees.
I did discover, though, that attaching 36 shells and 72 beads to the bottom of a fairy skirt is not a good idea. It makes for a very unfairy-like clatter and all will have to be removed so the noise doesn't drive me, and everyone else in close proximity, completely mad.
Looking forward to meeting
a new set of like-minded
souls and hoping those
who take my pieces home
from Spoutwood will find as
much joy in wearing them
as I feel dreaming them up
and bringing them to life.