Forgot to post this highlight from last weekend!
Last year at Bristol Faire, an older gentleman patron with manic energy appproached me raucously in the street. Imagine, if you must, someone created by Tom Waits, Chuck E. Weiss, or Rick Cleveringa. "A beautiful ring for a beauty," he clamored, "and an incomparable value for a doll beyond compare!" and so on, charmingly, and as he rasped out my praises, he took my hand and slipped onto my wedding finger a ring folded out of a dollar bill. I squeaked delight over it, and said I didn't deserve it, but I'd allow him to give it to me if he showed me how it was done. He soldiered a rapid-fire demo at me, but I was rubbish at the folding and remembering.
When I got home that weekend, I pinned his ring and my sorry attempt at one into a glass case on our dining room wall. You can still see them there, between ribbons and medals and odd Cleveringa detritus.
During this past winter, I bought and borrowed books on dollar-bill origami. I tried to learn how to make anything interesting: a boat, a jester's cockscomb, a monkey-face. I failed to be able to make anything recognizable.
Last weekend, the man came back to Bristol! He blustered up to me, scooted another ring onto my finger, and then added, "And I've got a new design, just for you, because you're such a star." He produced a dollar bill folded into the shape of a three-dimensional five-pointed star. Fantastic! I told him I had his prior works in a glass case in my dining room at home; he wouldn't believe me. Ron and Susan Scot Fry (the Faire's Artistic and Entertainment Directors) were nearby, and corroborated my story, but he just wouldn't have it that I'd preserved his rings at my house. I insisted he's a star, too, and one of the brightest in my fundament. Sir, if you're out there on the world wide interwebs, please remind me of your name. You should be famous too!