A Beady Reunion

Years passed.  Beads were created.  Beads fell.  Beads rolled away.  Beads became jewelry.  They joined key rings and necklaces, bracelets and rings, earrings and anklets.  Some would meet after years had passed and recall time spent on the mandrel, or the days in the beadmaker's kiln.  Some would find each other on bead social networking sites like BeadBook and MyBead.  At last they decided that a reunion was called for.

The invitations went out to all the corners of the world.  And soon the beads began their winding trek to the site of the reunion.



They followed ancient paths and goat trails.



They criss-crossed continents, rolling hither and yon.



They hitched rides on freighters, stowed away in airplane cargo bays, hopped freight trains until at last they were reunited.



Their were representatives from all the continents, with beads of pottery and shells...



...beads of stone and beads of bone...



...beads of wood and beads of glass...



All night long they rolled and strung each other.  They matched shape and played games arranging themselves by size.  They wire-wrapped their friends and their new acquaintances.  They fused.  And then, as quickly as they gathered, they returned, for they had a destiny.



To celebrate earth with pretty shiny things.

The Visit to the Bead Shrine

Many many beads from all over the world traveled in crates and in buckets... in bags and in suitcases.  Some were strung on string and some of raffia and some rolled around loose as they make the great crossing to the Bead Shrine.

There were beads of lava from volcanos who had long ago spewed their last ashes.



There were beads from nuts of Tagua palms and Salwag trees and Bambonas in Ecuador.



Beads from Kenya arrived, decorated with batik patterns, no two alike.



Beads of clay, from distant Kashmir, arrived, rolling perilously in their box.



More beads of clay, these from Mali, were close behind.



Ostrich shell beads from calcium-loving ostriches came to shore



along with coconut disk beads from Ghana.



There was Majapahit Javanese glass



and crow beads from India



and recycled glass beads from Ghana.



Day by day, and night by night, more beads arrived.  After the sun set, they engaged in secret bead rituals.  There was a drum circle, and chanting, and ritual cleansing.



They sat in kilns together, purifying and renewing.



During the day they met in small groups for networking and bead-storming.



And they meditated on beads left behind.



Though they came from many faiths and many lands







they soon learned that each put on his stringing material one one hole or link at a time.

And finally, when all the beads had gathered at the shrine, they lined up, side by side, and sang together.  They sang "Let It Bead" and "Let There Bead Peace on Earth" as they watched the sunset.



Then, refreshed and renewed, with deeper understanding of themselves and each other, they took their place with other great beads: to make shiny things!



Pieces that sparkled!



Pretty baubles!



Beads to delight!



And there was peace in beadland, and all was good.



Thanks to Happy Mango Beads for this beaded journey.

How the Beads Found Pieces of Harmony

Once upon a time there was a box of beads and they could not get along.



"We come from the sea, so we are better than you," said the beads of shell.



"We can do one better than that," said the mother of pearl beads, "because we lived inside creatures who lived inside the ocean."



"We lived deep in the earth, alongside the Morlocks," said the Kambaba beads.  "Clearly we are superior."



"We were shot out of a volcano!" said the lava beads.  "Need we say more?"




"We're nuts!" said the nut beads.  "We don't care."



"We come from the cradle of civilization, in Africa," the trade beads countered.



"We were carved from bones ~ the essence of life itself," claimed the beads of bone.



And so it went, with all the beads arguing and rolling on the ground.

Finally a bead of pressed glass, from the Czech Republic, spoke up.  "Can't we all just get along?" she asked.



This sounded vaguely familiar to the beads, so they stopped rolling for a moment to listen.

"It is true we come from all the corners of the earth," she continued.



"The earth doesn't have corners," muttered the resin beads.



But the pressed glass bead pressed on.  "And from the seven seas... and lots of oceans, too."

"Don't forget the islands," grumbled the beads from Indonesia.



"Hath not a bead holes?" she asked.  "Hath not a bead edges, drill marks, mandrel scratches, finishes... blasted in the same kilns, tossed by the same waters, dug out from the same earth?"



"If you drop us, do we not roll away?  If you string us, do we not make harmony with the beads beside us?  If you wrap us too tightly, do we not crack?"



"If you discard us, do we not trip the family dog?  If you string us, are we not strung?  If you wire us, are we not wired?  If you wrap us, are we not... um... wrapped?"

The beads murmured and rolled amongst themselves.  They considered the words of the Czech bead.  "She has a point!" said the pearls.



"No, that's just a flaw," said the lampworks.  "Happens to the best of us."



"She could be right," said the crow beads.



"I don't know.  I'm nuts!  said the nut beads.

But as they looked at each other (through beady little eyes) they had to agree that, no matter what their origins, they had a lot in common.



And so, without further ado, they rolled together, joined holes, and decided to bead all that they could bead.



And they all lived in pieces of harmony until the next time they had the same discussion.   (You can find these bead stars here.)