[Bards] A missive.

[Catrin ferch Maelgwn]

To the bards and poets, jongleurs and troubadours, minstrels and
minnesingers, scops and skalds and seanachies of Ansteorra--greetings.

This 12th Night past, I had the pleasure of competing in the Eisteddfod
against the formidable skills of a group of performers from all over the
kingdom.  In what I am convinced was a case of my simply having an
exceptionally good day, at the end of that competition I found myself
honored beyond measure with the title of Premier Bard of Ansteorra.  Since
then, I have been trying to gather my words and wits enough to compose this
missive.  I have, perhaps, gathered too long--for now I come to you with an
embarrassment of verbosity, for which I pray your pardon.

As I sat attending to the performances of my fellows that afternoon, I
reveled in the fact that their interests and styles and specialties were as
broad and varied as the regions from which they hailed.  There were poets
and storytellers, instrumentalists, singers of songs both somber and merry.
There were Elizabethan courtiers and Icelandic skalds, there were merchants
and nobles and artisans and warriors among our number.  There was an
ever-changing face on the stage before us, each with a story and a voice all
its own.

That, I thought to myself, is the face of Ansteorra.

If, among the sixteen who gathered that day, there was such richness of
diversity to be found--then it is a marvel to consider what wealth the broad
reaches of our entire kingdom must contain.

I know there are many in this vast esteemed company, the performers and
entertainers of Ansteorra, who will never use the word "bard" to describe
what they do, whose talents and knowledge do tremendous honor to our realm.
I know there are many others who dedicate themselves to the life of a
"bard," in whatever sense they define the word, and still more who fall
someplace in between.  And then there are the starry-eyed newcomers only
just beginning their journey, uncertain of where to start, but full of
energy and enthusiasm and beautiful dreams.

It is a humbling experience to observe this great variety of talent, and to
wonder if one might be charged with the task of being a single face for all
that multitude.  I look to the bards who have gone before me, and I feel
like a child who should sit at the feet of her betters, and listen, and
learn.

I am not a master, I am scarce a teacher, and I cannot call myself a
champion.  What I am, then--with happy heart--is a servant.

I am your servant, bards of Ansteorra, poets and minstrels and
storytellers.  I have my own great dreams--dreams of our kingdom as she is,
only clothed perhaps even more vibrantly in the motley of our art.  A
kingdom where the sky is filled with voices on any given night, where fires
burn bright and welcoming, where new tales are forever being born and
shared, and old songs are revived and passed down and kept safe in the
hearts of the young.

These are my dreams, but I would fain hear of yours.  I would like to know
how I can help.  I know I am addressing a collection of luminous minds full
of wondrous ideas, and my eyes and ears will be forever open to receive
them.  In whatever way I might assist, with what meager power is mine, I
will try to help you see them come to pass.

What gifts I have, I place them at the feet of the kingdom.

In service,
Lady Catrin ferch Maelgwn
Premier Bard of Ansteorra

LadyCatrin at gmail.com
(six eight two) five six four - five seven eight one
http://www.myspace.com/bardcatrin  (for those who are kicking and screaming
along with me into the 21st century)