Feet Firmly Planted

Big night out. My head is still spinning from the Contra dancing I participated in last night at the Grey Eagle in Asheville. Well...participate... I use the term loosely. I danced just twice before extreme dizziness deterred me. Middle school dance syndrome kicked in immediately once I crossed the threshold. When I was approached to dance, I gave a fair warning. Poor fella hadn't the foggiest idea what a mess he was getting into. He spun and we shuffled our way through the Celtic-bluegrassy-tuned number. When it was over, I thought I would keel over before making it back to my wall-hugging seat.

While I've danced a couple of times with these good folks in Birmingham, I was ill-prepared for the expertise of the Contra crowd up here in Appalachia. They danced circles around me.

The rest of the evening had me spectating from a safe distance: close enough to see, but not near enough to actually be beckoned back onto the floor where toe-stepping and spaziness would undoubtedly ensue.

I had a big old time, regardless. Once I regained my balance, I found the music to be just divine and the regular dancers, a real treat to watch. But, I'd be deceiving myself if I said I wasn't itching to be among them.

I find myself in a similar situation here at Penland. I skim the surface of an ocean filled with talented artisans. I'd love more than anything to plumb the depths of this art. But, I'm still wearing my floaties. The idea of diving deep is both intoxicating and dizzying. I suppose the only real way to learn if it's for me is to take a step, to let Him lead me onto the dance floor, and to trust that the whole discombobulating experience will guide me back to my bearings.

I'm just past midpoint here. I'm more than a little homesick after seeing my good friends over the weekend. Their company was refreshing in the moment as it was confirmation that I've got a real home to return to. So, I will soak up the last three and a half weeks here until this season is done.

I'm in the midst of planning and printing my last projects, or as we're calling them: "Ambitious Editions." I'm hesitant to post them here, as they may be stuffing some of your stockings this holiday season. So, for now, they'll be my little secrets. I'll be sure to let you know when the remnants go up in my Etsy shop.

Lastly, a word about the honest goodness of the mountain folk of North Carolina:

Thanks for the affordable pumpkin and the hopeful trust in humanity.