Well, today I waltzed into Barnes and Noble to pick up a copy of Chocolat they were holding for me. We just watched the movie for the millionth time last night and I decided I had to read the book too so I ordered it on line immediately after the credits. Earlier, I dropped Dave off at the newly opened Guitar Center down the road. He was happy I was happy, albeit terribly sick with cold/flu, but I had to have the book. I decided to check out the magazine section while I was passing by to see if by some freak chance the Haute Handbags spring edition was out yet. Last time they put it out exactly on the release date. But, I was secretly wanting to check out the new Stitch edition and their new bag patterns and that's when I saw it. There it was. Haute Handbags! I grabbed the top copy and started flipping through the pages. Almost frantically. I don't think the woman next to me in the Auto Mechanics section even flinched at my behavior. Where is it?! I got to the end. No Shelly Jack zebra print bag. No Shelly Jack hand painted daisy sling. No Shelly Jack Nashville studded guitar cross body. Maybe I missed it. I'll start from the back this time. Page after page after page. Nothing. Not there. How could this be? I got the email. "We would love another bag submission from you." "Congratulations!! Your bag has been selected..." They cashed my return postage check four months ago. They still had all three of my bags. It doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense right now. I'm sick. Shouldn't be driving on NyQuil. Maybe I should cry before I go pick up Dave. Nothing. No tears. Nothing. No anger. A bit of embarrassment. I'm not good enough. Who do I think I am any way? I pay for my copy of Chocolat and leave. Dave is looking for me when I arrive. I'm irritated with him for that. He gets in the car and I tell him what has happened, or has not happened. Silence. More humiliation. Not from him, that's my own doing. I've let him down. I text my mom and give her the news. More disappointment. I don't want her to buy the magazine and find out my bag is not in there. No reply. This sucks. We get home and I head for the computer. I send a very nice but inquiring email to the lovely lady editor in chief who has been corresponding with me. No reply. What to do. Take a nap. Feel sick. Eat Dorritos, entire bag. Curl up in a ball, too boring. What would Kelly Rae do? Amy Butler? Anna Maria Horner? Any other artist who takes chances? I don't know. I crack open a very nice bottle of wine. I go on line and Google mixed media painting ecourses. My kitchen table is currently covered in paints, brushes, flowers, etc. What am I doing? What do I want to do? Sign up for a personal session from The Sage Goddess? Hire a life coach? Paint. Sew. Blog. All of the above. Get a grip. I watch a forty five minute interview with Kelly Rae Roberts on you tube, http://youtu.be/Y1wlZ2ikrkc I love her even more. I love the quirky people interviewing her. They are hysterical, in my mind. A jazz singer / painter? Really? A web design guru/ talk show host/ artist?? Right up my alley. I feel at home. They ease my pain. So, for whom ever may be reading this, Thanks. Don't give up. Drink wine. Paint. Sew. Sing. Blog. Dance. Eat Dorritos. Maybe even cry if you have to. But don't quit. Keep being you. It doesn't matter who notices or doesn't. You are awesome. Stay true to yourself. Eat Chocolate. Read Chocolat, watch Chocolat. And Practical Magic. And Kelly Rae Roberts And if you feel so inclined, leave a comment here. =)
