I told you I would update you on what happened with my little art book project but I think I should let my book tell you its tale for it is far more delightful than I could ever relate its journey to you. Book, take it away...
I was born on May 3, 2012 and took my first tottering steps into the world as most all newborns do with a photo shoot of showoff pictures taken by my proud momma. She showed me off ever which way, open, closed, and fully posed! She even posted my pictures online!
(Silly momma)
Then she did the bravest thing an artful momma could to do and gave me up for adoption when I was just one day old knowing she would never ever see me again. She was sending me a way far off to the big apple, New York City, while she stayed behind in the hills and hollers of home and we were both a little scared.
She carefully wrapped me up in a bubble wrap blanket and tucked me snugly inside a box adding more cushy padding and a letter to my new family, then she sealed me in and sent me on my way. She worried and wondered over me but I was just fine and mostly did what newborns do and slept most of the time with the exception of the few bumps and tussles of being loaded and unloaded, sorted and stashed along the way.
But my travel was short and I arrived the very next day in New York City. I didn't get to see the sights and all since I was sealed in a box but I did get to hang out with some other cool packages on a shelf waiting for my new family to pick me up and take me home. I must have dozed off during the wait because I was awakened by more bumps and tussles of being loaded and unloaded, sorted and stashed and moving again.
On Monday afternoon something felt mighty familiar about the stop I finally made when I thought I heard momma's voice only she did not sound none too happy, confused was more like it. I heard her exclaim, "That's my book! Oh no!" I'll let momma pick up the story from here, momma, take it away...
Yes, little book dear, I was confused, dismayed, and elated all at the same time. At first I thought that you had been rejected and that disheartened me greatly, then I was elated because I thought I would never see you again and there you were right in front of me, and then I was totally confused when I inspected your packaging and noticed that you had never even been unwrapped. It was then that I discovered the little tattoo on the side of your box, big brown ink that said "RTS" (return to sender).
I twirled your box to see the reason and none of the little box reasons were checked. Then I saw the red ink that stated "UNCLAIMED". You never even made it to your destination, you slept in the dead letter zone until sufficient time had passed for your retrieval and you were returned to me. I am totally not sure of the situation or circumstance that led to this happening but I am taking this as a sign that you were indeed meant to be mine. Your new family never laid eyes on you for if they did they would have fallen immediately in love with you like I did. They never cradled you in their hands or turned your pages as I did. They never gazed on your unique beauty or had the opportunity to appreciate you like I did.
Their loss is my gain.
So, this is what happened with my Open Call Art Submission...nothing happened. I am sure there is a logical explanation of the events that lead to its return to me. I am also positive that this was not intentional and more than likely it was a simple oversight, the pick up slip could have been lost or misplaced. The artist who issued the call did receive a ton of mail on these submissions and there could be any number of explanations.
No sour grapes here!
Oh well, at least I tried. I did some of my best work and explored some new to me techniques and learned a lot in the process, for that I extend a hearty "Thank You!" to the artist who issued the open call giving me the opportunity to stretch my artistic wings. This truly was an inspiring challenge and either way it is a win-win for me. I got the experience of stepping out of my comfort zone and reached for a goal and while the goal was not met I still received a reward in the end by having tried knowing I put my all into it. The bonus...I get to enjoy this piece of artwork as part of my own personal collection!
No condolences please, my book and I are happy to be reunited and maybe, just maybe, there is already another plan in place for sharing this little gem. I will keep you posted!
P.S. Yes, we artists can be a little wacky. We make our art, creating and nurturing it until it is fully formed and birthed. We love it like it is a child. We painfully let go and let it be adopted by others who will love it and appreciate it as much as we do. And if by serendipity it is returned to us we joyfully embrace it as our own. What can I say, it is all a part of the creative process.
