Finding Life Beyond the SCA: A Personal Reflection

This photo of me was taken by my stepdaughter in Omaha’s Mangelsen’s craft store. You can tell because behind me are enormous cupcakes painted on the wall. Swirls of frosting the size of wagon wheels decorate them. Neon green lights snake across the ceiling. It smells faintly of paper and glue and something seasonal. We are learning “Junk Journaling.” Yes, you read that right.

I am not in garb, an event “common hall”, or a Calontir court. I am holding a bright blue plastic tape runner as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. It is my “proof of life outside the SCA.” I’m even in mundane clothes, although the sweatshirt I’m wearing was made for a Calontir Coronation in 1994.

Grace caught me mid-motion with my left hand steadying a stack of paper. On the table are little printed motifs waiting to be arranged. These include borders, tiny illustrations, and decorative shapes. I was spacing them carefully, balancing them carefully as I adjusted them a fraction of an inch. I laughed when I saw the photo later. I was placing them like a scribal layout.

My sweatshirt was new when Calontir still looked mostly like T-tunics and outline trim. It has survived reigns, road trips, and courts. It’s witnessed arguments about heraldry and long days at Lilies. There have been more craft experiments than I can count.
And now it shows up in a craft store in Omaha.

When I started in 1991, I had no idea that decades later I would still be designing things in crafts. I still care about balance on a page, fuss over spacing of my supplies, and creating layers in my design.

I switch between being a Bruges illuminator, a Ming healer, a Tai Chi instructor, and a modern grandmother. I do all this without changing my essential wiring.

The funny part is, you might have walked past me that afternoon. You would have seen an older woman in glasses gluing paper together. You would not have seen thirty years of Calontir history or any Laurel conversations. A Ming widow with unbound feet would have been invisible. You would not have noticed a Tai Chi class at Lilies. But they were all there stitched into the sweatshirt.

This is not proof of life outside the SCA, it’s proof that after long enough, the lines blur. It’s proof that who we are at events becomes who we are at “Junk Journaling” tables. A coronation sweatshirt from 1994 can quietly accompany you into a craft store in 2026. It still feels exactly right. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. 💙