Every now and then I am
asked, “how did you get started in beading?” It turns out to be a long story
involving love of crafts (especially needle and thread work), a motivational
home economics class in school (the stichin’ part, not the stirrin’), and time
to focus on creative projects.
One such time, in the early
80’s, found my husband, son, and me at Alden Farm Camps, a turn-of-the-last-century
fishing camp in the Belgrade Lakes region of Maine; we were vacationing with my
husband’s parents and sister. We stayed in amenities and facilities-challenged
cabins (known as camps in Maine) at the water’s edge; indoor plumbing was the
most cutting edge technology on the premises, and the septic system would have
been considered emergent technology. The cabins did include the wilderness
beauty of a northwoods view across the lake, the plaintiff calls of loons, and
frequent evening aurora light shows. The rustic dining hall was the communal
gathering place for meals, cribbage and bridge games, and conversations amid the
mounted fish, and trappings of a bygone era. The food rivaled any five star
restaurant anywhere. Aldens was the most nostalgic location on the planet for
my husband’s family, and our son represented the fourth generation of the
family to gather here. Camp activities included fishing, eating, reading,
sleeping and more fishing, which brings be back to my original focus – “how did
I get started in beading?”
As I don’t fish (I do eat,
sleep, and read some), I had some time to spend while the rest of the camp was
occupied. After finding a supply of beads in town, my sister-in-law and I
prevailed upon one of the cabin boys to build us small looms. For a week, we
sat on the cabin porch and made woven beaded bracelets. From this vantage
point, we could watch our son and his friends playing along the lake and at the
beach, and we could see the comings and goings of the boats and fishermen.
Although the equipment was crude, and the materials were not uniform, our
bracelets turned out very well and they were admired by the whole camp. When I
got home to PA, I gave the bracelet that I made to my mother who was thrilled
with it. She wore it to her next hair appointment and explained to her
hairdresser that her daughter had just come back from camp where she had made the
bracelet, where upon her hairdresser asked, “how old is your daughter?”
Since those days, I have
come to love beadwork and Maine, and I look for every opportunity to bead in
Maine at our own camp (with amenities and facilities) while my husband goes fishing.
The equipment is very different now, the techniques are more sophisticated, and
the supplies are the far more elegant and uniform, SWAROVSKI ELEMENTS and
Delicas, but the love of the craft, and the excitement of creativity is the
same.
The moral of the story is
that it really doesn’t matter how old you are when you first go to camp and
learn arts and crafts.
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| Our Camp in Maine |
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| Alden Camps |
