I wanted very badly to spend lots of money on a corset and undershirt, but alas, Ben made me see reason. I'm kinda glad I didn't buy them right now, because I'd like to shop around first... and also because I may be able to get my costume designer friend jedibubbles to make one for me, possibly for less than it would cost at RenFest. We'll see.
I did buy something fascinating and awesome, though. I went to one vendor and bought a vial filled with "fairy dust," which I then gleefully sprinkled into the wind -- it really did look like magic dust, puffing and swirling on the breezes. I took the vial to a man selling scented oils, and he filled it up for me with "Fire," a vibrant crimson cinnamon-cloves blend -- oh wow. I love love love that scent, even more than cinnamon alone. I put it on and wore it for the rest of the day, catching whiffs of the scent whenever the wind blew. And the vial with it's deep red oil is so gorgeous -- I am certain that it will be featured in future photoshoots. I'll post a photo of it pretty soon. If I had known how much I'd love it I'd have bought his whole bottle -- that was his last RenFest ever, and he was closing up shop. I wonder how long oils last?
I discovered that I have become more of my true self -- I'm shedding my old 'reserved' skin. Throughout the day I saw myself acting with more confidence and ease in speaking to strangers, which is such a relief to me. It isn't me to be quiet or standoffish, yet I've acted that way for most of my life because it was my coping mechanism. As I'm healing, I'm losing my fear of being seen as stupid -- the reason I was 'quiet' was because I lived by the old adage, "better to keep your mouth closed and appear a fool than open your mouth and remove all doubt."
One instance was at a glass artist's booth. I saw some dichrotic pendants that were incredible -- each one was like a tiny painting. I was awed, and told the lady "womaning" the booth how impressed I was (most dichrotic glass tends to be fairly random, while this artist obviously had a lot of skill), and asked if they had a website. She said no, they didn't, but would I like to meet the artist? My first reaction (my old self) was no, I'd be too intimidated, but I found myself saying yes, I would. So she called the artist over from a nearby booth, and told her that I admired her work. She said thank you, and looked at me expectantly. I tripped over my words at first, but then I got caught up in enthusing over her work, and we had a bit of conversation and I was relaxed. For me to be relaxed around a stranger that I consider to be superior to me is a completely new experience for me. It was also new to be able to gush about glass with someone who shares my passion. She mentioned that she is based in Savannah, and said that she could teach me how to do it in a day, though it would be a intensive session. I think she liked the idea of teaching someone as obviously in love with glass as I am. In the future I hope to buy some of her pendants for centerpieces for my necklaces.
The other 'new me' example was when we were headed home and stopped at a Subway -- without even thinking I struck up a conversation with the, um, sandwich artist? What do you call a sub-maker? Anyway, that was odd for me because before I started talking to him, he had a rather stand-offish demeanor, and usually I leave people alone if I get any hint that they'd like it that way. (and I used to have no interest at all in small talk -- I've been meaning to post about that) But he warmed up to me really quickly. Something about him seemed terribly sad... When we left I wanted to hug him, but I settled for giving him a real smile (not the polite little turning-up of lips that I usually dole out to strangers) and saying thank you in a very genuine tone. The most interesting thing about that small encounter was that I interpreted him more correctly -- before I would have not been so perceptive, and I would have thought of him as rude or snobby, but he wasn't, not at all. He was hurting, yet so brave. Now that I'm a bit more healed, I don't expect everyone to be mean to me, so I was able to see him more accurately. He made a deep impression on me, too -- I've thought about him several times since then.