I’ve been working away on dozens of little projects, and then a million things happened at once.  I’m still processing. 
I wrote a new song, and I love it.  It started out on a very different path than it eventually carved for itself.  
I went to an event most of my closest friends don’t attend. And then, strangely, many of them were there with me. 
I competed in arguably the most prestigious regional Bardic competition and a friend and I won together.  We began plotting a year of shenanigans. 
And then I was given a writ to contemplate joining the Order of the Laurel at Gulf Wars in March. My dear friend Sinn did the calligraphy on beautiful vellum.  

I never thought I would wind up in this position.  I’ve operated on very strange paths throughout my time in the SCA, and while I haven’t actively spurned notice, I also haven’t sought it often.  I want to sing and research and study and teach and make things, and I want to spend time with my friends and help out when I can. 

So now I’m rushing to finish piles of projects by early March so We can go throw a giant party and I can take on a major new volunteer job.  Weird.  It’s weird.  

More importantly, it’s astoundingly touching.  An invitation to join this Order came because many many people spoke on my behalf, took notes on my work and spoke in my favor in hushed discussions.  Once it was clear that it was happening, my friends came together to witness the announcement and speak publicly on my behalf.  And then offers to assist in the next steps flooded in.  In just a few days I was given completely tangible proof that people care about this weird work I do, and they love my art, and they think I am a good teacher and can help steer the arts community in a good direction.  I’m flabbergasted. Truly. 

The song, which will continue to grow, is coming.   

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