Much like a zombie cries "Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains," this is essentially what my artistic brain has been doing for the last three weeks. For those that know, I've rejoined the Society of Creative Anachronism and am back into the scribal arts making award scrolls for them. I've completed two small awards, one large one, and two backlogs in under a month. There's something very soothing about it, adapting medieval motifs to modern artistic endeavor and I really love the creative process of taking something old and watching it come to life again.
Since becoming a peer, and particularly since becoming a landed baroness, there's often this moment where I go to take action and three or more people leap to stop me. Now, I have accepted that I will often not carry my own things - though this is sometimes difficult. I have accepted that I will often delegate a problem solved that I would have often taken care of myself - though this too is difficult. But there's a reason that sometimes at the end of feast James and I stealth off to the kitchen to grab pots and towels and dirty dishes. There's a reason sometimes we are found with coronets safely tucked aside as we move tent poles or hold stakes or wield a hammer, or why sometimes we even unload our own thrones from the car when there are hands nearby to help. There is a reason when people say "I want you happy at the event" that my response is always "I want the populace happy. We are here for you." Understand that it is not because we do not wish a
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