Sunday, October 4, 2009

A Public Display Of Humiliation

Our MOMS club is doing an art show in our local library this month. My friend Shari is in charge. She sent out an email asking any mom who does any form of art, to contribute to the show. This would include drawings, paintings, photographs, nude sculptures, finger paintings made from poop, whatever.

And since I have been taking lots of pictures lately and have been liking what I see, I decided to submit a few. This was a big mistake! First of all, while I love the way my pictures look on the computer, turns out they don't translate well to print. I think it's time for an eye exam.

I went to the library to hang my pictures and after I was done, I took the time to look around to see what my fellow mothers had submitted and YOWZA, I felt like a complete jackass.
Everyone's pictures were big and beautiful and glossy and perfect. Mine looked like the inner workings of a porta-potty. One mom did a beautiful drawing, a big one, perfectly crafted out of individual colored dots. Holy over-estimating my talents, Batman!

It was at this moment that I realized that I think my pictures are much, much, MUCH better than they really are. It's like that time when I had worked my way up to a hundred sit-ups at once and I thought I was amazing and powerful and tough and then I went to a fitness class where 100 sit-ups was the warm-up not the work-out and I realized I was a big pansy ass. I had diluted myself into thinking that my photos were submittable. Oh the humiliation.

I considered taking them down but I was tired and plus, I realized that it would be a real childish move. I would simply have to endure the embarrassment.

This Saturday, we hosted a grand art opening and the artists were supposed to come stand by our creations and meet and greet the patrons. I just knew that they would all feel very sorry for me. Like they would take one look at my pictures, look over at me, look back at the pictures and then a look of pity would wash over their faces. Because my photos are the special Olympic version of the real thing. Kill me now.

As it turns out, I was not able to go to the grand opening. Howie lost track of time during his yard clean-up and dump runs and I was stuck at the house because Bear was taking a nap. I wanted to go but didn't REALLY want to go anyway. It made me nervous though, because I knew that people were looking at my pictures and I wasn't there to make any apologies. It was like that one time Howie showed our house to his friends and my underwear were on the bathroom floor. I still have post-traumatic stress over that one!

My "art" will be on display the entire month of October which means that every time I drive past the library I will have nausea and the brain pain. I had been considering entering some stuff in our town fair. Needless to say, THAT will not be happening. I've had enough public humiliation to last me a long time, thank you very much.

9 comments:

  1. I used to think my cross-stitch was something "special"...then I met someone better (who I'd bragged to about mine before seeing hers, btw). She tried to be nice but I saw that smirk!

    "finger paintings made from poop, whatever."

    I hope you don't mind that I snorted out loud at this.

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  2. Oh please, Alicia, there will always be someone better than you (and me, and everyone else) at most things! You must not compare yourself.....if your photos make you happy then you have succeeded....and by the way they make ME pretty happy too so fret not, my photographer friend!

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  3. Hey!! Cut that self pitying crap out right now, young lady!!! *Wags finger at America's next top Mummy*

    Art is such a personal thing. And because it is art, who can say what is acceptable or even good. I scrapbook. But mine might not be like yours because it is personal to me, and you might not like mine, and that's ok. I'm not a fan of Picasso, but heaps of other people like it.

    Just be proud of what you can do.

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  4. Underwear on the floor of the bathroom is far better than underwear on the floor of the KITCHEN, which incidentally has happened to me not once, but TWICE.

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  5. JJ- Well you know, we have to finger pain with what's available!

    Irene- I know that there will always be someone better and I will gladly continue picture taking because it does make me happen. I just won't put myself in this kind of situation again. I've definitely learned a lesson!!

    Kimmy- My face is red and sore from your bitch slapping. But I like it rough :-)

    Emma- Hmmm. How exactly does one's underwear end up in the kitchen floor? I get a vision of you doing dishes and picking at your underwear so much that they finally frustrate you and you take them off and toss them across the room. Right? Right?

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  6. Okay, I really need to spell check. I misspelled so many words. I have what I want to say in my head but sometimes (apparently) my fingers don't get the message and they type whatever the heck they want to!

    They have a mind of their own!!!!

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  7. Just cover it up by telling everyone you are trying to revive the DaDa movment.:-)

    http://arthistory.about.com/cs/arthistory10one/a/dada.htm

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  8. Just cover it up by telling everyone you are trying to revive the DaDa movment.:-)

    http://arthistory.about.com/cs/arthistory10one/a/dada.htm

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  9. Hey, I remember that from college! I can say that I'm starting my own revolution called the MaMa revolution!

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