Here comes the bride and she is having it her way, dammit.  Can you blame her?  As women we never and I mean never get a day to have everything we want the way we want it.  It is my hope that in a small way I help the soon to be wife have that perfect day.  Let’s face it, after the wedding day it is on to the real world outside the red carpet and the flowers.

Gone are the days of ladies in waiting to do our bidding.  I sigh thinking how that would be…giggling girls just there to do what ever you ask of them.  Oh the good old days….I mean the very good very very old days. of royalty of course.  Where men were men and the women were ladies.  You embroidered a single handkerchief for weeks just because.  Everyone had one of a kind accessories with their own personal touch.  Artist were revered and rewarded for their gift to create.   You name and initials were carefully and artfully put on everything, along with your crest.  Ahh the crest.  Everyone has one.  The first day I really looked at my family’s crest was the day my son came home with it tattooed on his arm.  I must say it is a stunning bit of royal armor.   Find yours and be proud of it.  Someone in your distant family tree took the time to either make it or have one made.  Every detail is there for a reason, it means something.  Art wasn’t just to draw attention or to sell a product.  It told a story, marked an event, it had real personal meaning.  At some point in your life you will wish it had more meaning.  My job is to bring a little bit of that personal touch to every piece I make.  I send my little bits of heart and soul and hope it ends up in the presence of someone who found it meaningful to own.  Perhaps it will be a keepsake one day.  Or even the funny story told to a child about the crazy purse their grandmother owned by some designer named Hopscotch.  Everyday I make my way and hope to leave little imprints along the way….I am weaving my own crest.

Let me know how your weaving yours.

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