shop farewell.
DEAR COMMUNITY:
What is there really to say other than a deep, soul-full ‘thank you’ for your support over the past two years. I set out on this adventure, taking a leap of faith after years of planning and mulling and toe-dipping, to see if I could be a part of the change I wanted to see in my community. To activate a dream I’ve held in my heart for years. To connect beautiful, handmade artisan wares to my community. To build a collective of local artisans and create a physical space in which we could all fill it with our curiosity, creative expression, and community. In so many ways, it has been successful at doing just this and THAT is what I will celebrate for years to come.
However, it is with a heavy heart and clear mind that I’ve made the decision to not renew my lease and will be closing the shop at the end of June 2024.
While the community support has been warm and welcoming, the stark reality over the past two years has been high rent and low sales. I have resisted this decision for months, but in taking a deep breath, have had to face reality and make the hard decision that is best for myself and my family.
Retail is hard. And in post-pandemic-current-financial-shenanigans, it’s even harder. Louisville has struggled for YEARS to keep its downtown alive and vibrant and yet year after year, we lose business to other communities or financial hardship. After living and breathing this for myself, I don’t know that there is any one solution to solving this issue, but I do believe that as a collective community, we can each play a positive and powerful role in supporting the businesses that do exist.
There is an open invitation for each of us to be a part of the solution. Perhaps it’s choosing to support local as often and reasonably as you can. Not for the sole purpose of consumption, but if there is a need, see if a local shop can satisfy it. And if they don’t have it, consider asking if they can find it.
Perhaps it is true that local shops can't satisfy every need, but I do think that we’ll all be better off, with healthier, more vibrant communities if we can lean-in and source locally as frequently and as often as we can.
So what happens to Modern Folklore beyond the physical space? I’ve asked myself this a few hundred thousand times and the answer is simply: nothing. It is a part of me, an expression, and will forever be that. Working with so many talented artists, I’ve learned that the real art is in the making, not in the final product. Once you put it out into the world, it no longer belongs to you but to the larger collective.
Connecting with and finding quality, artisan goods has ALWAYS been a passion of mine. This won’t go away. Nor will the stories – oh, the stories! – that have filled my heart about the hands that make them. They are stories rich in healing, reflection, joy, self-determination, and creativity. I love knowing whose hands made the cup, carved the wood, or wove the towel – that the exchange of goods was fair, honorable, and safe. And, at least for my heart, the community connections I’ve made will be lasting.
The artisans whose work fills these shelves are still creating, so please sign-up for their newsletters, follow them, and support them through local markets if you can. Maybe we’ll have a seasonal pop-up from time-to-time to reconnect. Perhaps I’ll keep the website and socials going for a bit after June, but only after I take some time to unplug, detox, and get real quiet.
I’m a hope-springs-eternal kind of person, so I always have hope, current-events-dumpster-fire included. If this is my hard thing, I accept it. AND. I believe in the depth of heart and goodness of humanity. We are the change we’ve been waiting for, my friends. We have the capacity and autonomy to CREATE and build the kind of community and world we want to raise our kids in. What does that look like for you? Where does your hope lie?
I recently listened to Irish poet David Whyte ‘talk story’ a bit, sharing this poem that resonated deeply, offering an invitation to consider the possibilities of life:
The bell and the blackbird by David Whyte
The sound of a bell
still reverberating,
or a blackbird calling
from a corner of the field,
asking you to wake
into this life,
or inviting you deeper
into the one that waits.
Either way
takes courage,
either way wants you
to be nothing
but that self that
is no self at all,
wants you to walk
to the place
where you find
you already know
how to give
every last thing
away.
The approach
that is also
the meeting
itself,
without any
meeting
at all.
That radiance
you have always
carried with you
as you walk
both alone
and completely
accompanied
in friendship
by every corner
of the world
crying
Allelujah.
with so much gratitude, i’ll be seeing you.
abrazos amigxs,
corrie
