Long Ago, (okay…maybe only like 20 years ago) a little girl asked her mother to sew. After the first lesson, the Mother and the Daughter realized they could not learn in harmony. The Daughter continued her studies, desperate to make beautiful things. Reading books, searching for tutorials, trying and failing again and again. Even trekking off on her own to follow the studies of fashion. She was inspired by films and plays, music and art around her. She had one wish. To create costumes that felt real, lived in…to become someone else for a little while.

The Daughter went through many names, and worked on her craft many long years. Late at night, when the world slept. Between exams, and projects, and baby. Between long hours at jobs that left her drained and broken. Always there was sewing, always there was a character waiting to be stitched to life, breathing joy into her being She found places her talents could flourish and be admired. Where there were others who inspired her, challenged her, and encouraged her to keep trying. The little fantasy village in the woods, the renaissance faire in the shadow of Bear Mountain. Yes, actual Bear Mountain. At the small camp theatre as her creations danced across the stage. Through it all, she kept to her wish, to make beautiful things and build characters, stitch by stitch.

Her magic is not the grand unachievable magic of the great wizards. It is quiet, and humble, filled with precision and passion. A mystic power for those uninitiated. And so now she is the Mystic Seamstress.