The Double Dance: A Look Back at Past Markets

What a rollercoaster, these past weeks and months. I look back on a period full of markets, creativity, and encounters.

One of the highlights was undoubtedly the three days I spent at the Bazaar Du Sud winter market in my hometown, from November 14th to 16th. It was a dream to be there for the first time, surrounded by vendors who each create their handicrafts with such love and attention. Bazaar Du Sud is one of those markets where selection is clearly done with care. A place where quality, originality, and diversity converge. No repetition of the same old, but makers with their own signature and story, and you can feel it.

I stood among ceramicists, illustrators, jewelry makers, and designers working with textiles, metal, and natural materials. There were refined and sculptural jewelry, hand-forged objects, clothing with bold messages, illustrations and prints that linger, and ceramics you simply want to touch. What perhaps struck me most was the atmosphere. Makers visited each other, showed interest, helped each other, and genuinely cared for each other. A community, not competition.

Creative Love and Warm Encounters

The atmosphere at the Bazaar Du Sud was phenomenal. The organization was excellent, and it felt wonderful to be part of such a diverse and creative group showcasing original products. The audience was just as diverse. People who consciously choose local and handmade products, who are curious and take the time to look and talk. I always feel at home among people who radiate that openness and diversity.

It was heartwarming how many familiar faces stopped by. Family, friends, regular customers, and even someone who had traveled two and a half hours to get there. That's always special. People stopping by specifically to say hello, to check in, and to share.

The Autumn Fair on November 30th at Fletcher Kasteel Erenstein was also a wonderful experience. The centuries-old castle, with its moat and surrounding estate, offered an impressive backdrop. The rooms were festively decorated and filled with home decor, art, Christmas items, and regional delicacies. Everything was carefully arranged, creating a peaceful, warm, and inspiring atmosphere throughout the day.

The Wonder Markets on December 7th and 14th at Marnis Nursery in Bunde were quite different, but just as enjoyable. Held in the warehouse during the nursery's winter closure, they had a cozy, small-scale setting. Unique crafts were on display, demonstrations were given, and the selection was surprising and varied. If you're in the area in spring or summer, the nursery itself is a green oasis with a cottage garden, bamboo garden, and cut flower garden, among other things. Definitely worth a visit.

The Dark Side of Overstimulation

But despite all these wonderful experiences, markets are also a mixed bag for me. As an introverted neurodivergent person with ADHD and possibly autism, such days are a mix of stimuli that energize me and stimuli that simultaneously exhaust me.

At my very first markets, I was incredibly nervous about every person who approached me. Questions like what should I do, should I say something, and if so, would they like my work, and was I doing it well enough constantly raced through my mind.

Practice Makes Perfect and Overdrive

Over time, that's changed. Markets have become a habit. These days, I quickly switch to a kind of enthusiastic booth with the first visitor. I chat, joke, brainstorm, connect, and sell. At the Bazaar Du Sud, it went so far that I spontaneously wanted to delight fellow makers with photos of their booths, yet seemed to be everywhere at once. Eating, drinking, sitting down, or using the restroom faded completely into the background.

That enthusiasm also has a downside. Towards the end of such an intensive period, I can suddenly lose all my energy. There are times when the thought of another day full of conversations and impressions simply feels too much. And yet, I notice that once I'm back in my place, something shifts inside me, and carrying that day becomes second nature.

The week after a market, and therefore also this week after the last one, is often the hardest for me. That's when the fatigue really sets in, and doubts arise. That's when I need time to de-stress, slow down, and recharge. That's why I'm trying more and more consciously to learn where my limits are and give myself permission to take breaks, knowing that I don't have to give less to stay true to myself.

The Joy of the Winter Collection

Between all those market days, there was something else that brought me great joy: the new winter collection. It felt special to take it to the markets for the first time, as if I were revealing a new chapter. New shapes, new glazes, and ideas that had slowly made their way from my head to my hands and finally to the table.

There were new vases, mugs, tea light holders, and candlesticks. Pieces that fit the season. Warm, tranquil, and designed for dark days and soft light. It was wonderful to see how people picked them up, turned them, touched them, and sometimes knew immediately: "This is one for me." That remains magical.

Finally, almost casually, I picked up a little surprise at the Verwondermarkt: very subtle tea light holders with a small handle. A simple detail, but precisely because of that, so unique. I didn't really know what to expect, and that's precisely why I was so surprised. They were practically sold out within a day.

That moment gave me confidence. It felt like a quiet confirmation that following my heart, experimenting, and continuing to create pays off. That there's room for softness, simplicity, and small details, and that people see that, recognize it, and want to take it home with them.