If you didn’t make it this year to the International Folk Art Market in Santa Fe, New Mexico, or if you have never been, it is not too early to start making your plans for next year.  I know that it wrapped up on July 10, already a month ago, but what a better way than with this story to begin my blog.  So how can I tell you in one short post all the magical components that makes and is this market?  There is the city, Santa Fe, that has been hosting it for 13 years.  There is the world of artists whose lives have been forever impacted by it. There are the visitors from every corner of the globe who come to share it.  In any given moment, there are an infinity of experiences taking place in the the confines of one weekend and a location on top of a hill in Santa Fe.

In my own little nutshell, here is my version:    “`This is the largest folk art festival in the world.  “`Santa Fe was designated by Unesco as the City of Folk Art and the first city named to its prestigious Creative City Network.  “`From Afghanistan to Zanzibar there were 180 artist this year hailing from 60 countries.“`Ninety percent of the money collected will return home with the artists, helping them, their families and communities to pay for such basics as food, healthcare and education“`Everything is handmade, a statement and preservation of long cultural traditions.“`All this is supported and encouraged by the Folk Art Alliance in Santa Fe with their vision to transform struggling communities by building self reliance and self respect.

Be forewarned.  The

International Folk Art Market is crowded, but the crowd is happy, friendly and as excited to be there as I was.  Though I went by myself, I still had shopping encouragement and conversation with artists, volunteers and other marketeers from as far away as New Zealand and as close as Oklahoma.  It is the warmest time of year so I was glad I remembered my hat and water (If not, look for the water stations with free bottles of water).

There were over 2,000 volunteers for the International Fold Art Market this year, of which I was one.  In the volunteer’s van that took us from Museum Hill back to the parking lot,  there was still a buzz of energy and exchanging of experiences.  But I was suddenly still with my newly purchased painted Persian birds from Uzbekistan and thinking, “I can’t wait until next year.”