The Creation of Menomorphia: A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time in a small, picturesque town, lived an artist named Lulu. She had only recently discovered her passion for art, a hidden talent that lay dormant through decades of working with lawbooks and computers.

Over the last few years Lulu approached learning about her new hobby like a leisurely meal at a buffet, sampling whatever styles and subjects appealed to her.

After consistent practice and study, people started to call her "talented".

With positive feedback from her supportive friends, her confidence soared. She set the lofty goal to create meaningful uplifting art and share it with as many people as she could.

One spring day, Lulu got an invitation from a messenger (okay, it was a Facebook ad) to submit artworks for a juried art competition called “Celebrating Life”. Artists could be selected to have their work hang in a gallery on exhibit for others to see.

Lulu saw this as her chance to celebrate how far she’s come and step into the local art community. Some of her artistic friends were also going to submit their works, too!

The deadline was tight. For ten days she mulled over concepts until she came up with a design that fit the theme. Lulu poured her soul into the creation of her budding career’s magnum opus (to date).

She chose collage papers with meaning, song lyrics and inspirational messages and snippets of papers gathered for her by her friends. As she folded and molded the pieces, Lulu contemplated her thoughts on growing older (and wiser) as she wrapped the subject of the piece in those protective layers.

The weathered texture she chose for the cracks around the edges perfectly mirrored those that are emerging on her face.

Lulu continued to build her work in layers, adding bright acrylics and sculpting a beautiful woman out of vibrant acrylics. Then, when she knew the subject was ready to be born, she gently aging the portrait to the wise confident women Lulu hoped to become.

When she finally stepped back, she felt a swell of pride. She believed she had created a masterpiece.

She submitted her work with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, imagining it hanging among the best in the exhibition.

Days ticked by slowly, her friends both got accepted but Lulu didn’t get a call. …and then the news came: her submission was not accepted. Instead, it was relegated to the Salon de Refusés, a separate exhibit for rejected works. Her first art submission felt like a complete failure.

Rejection is hard enough. Rejections of one’s magnum opus (to date) is devastating.

Sure, she told herself all the things… art is subjective, there are so many reasons why it may not have been chosen that said nothing about her skills or abilities. But knowing did nothing to tamp the feelings.

Lulu spent the week of the opening dreading the event. How could she go and support her friends when it hurt so much to have not been chosen? How could she get through the night without bursting into tears?

The night of the opening, Lulu wandered through the grand hall, a smile fixed on her face while a storm of disappointment brewed within her. She tried to be happy for her friends, but every praise for their work was a reminder of her inadequacy. When her friend placed in the watercolor category, it was just too much for her.

Feeling the weight of her emotions, Lulu decided to step out into the fresh air.

She walked past the Salon de Refusés, expecting to find it deserted. To her surprise, the room had a little crowd.

She hesitated at the entrance, unsure if she wanted to face her own work in such a stark contrast to the success she had envisioned.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the room. As she wandered the room, she overheard snippets of conversations. People were discussing the artwork of the other artists with admiration and respect. They definite weren’t, as she feared, "making fun of the rejects".

She found her piece hanging in a corner, surrounded by other rejected and equally and wonderfully beautiful works. If this is what it means to be in the “Salon of Rejects” then she was at least in good company.

A young woman stood before Lulu’s piece, tears in her eyes.

"This one speaks to me," the woman said to her companion. "It’s like it’s telling a story of struggle and hope. I can see so much of my own journey in it. When I look at it, I just know everything is going to be okay."

With those words, Lulu realized her worst fears for the night. She burst into tears right there by her painting.

But instead of tears of humiliation, they were tears of joy and pride.

Lulu realized her journey was not about the acceptance of a panel of judges but about connecting with others through her art. She had touched hearts and inspired minds, something far more significant than a spot in the main exhibit.

She won the biggest prize of all that night- the prize of learning that her art could spread love. All she had to do was share her work with the world.

And she created a happily ever after.

Now, readers, this IS a fairy tale… I am writing this piece as I sit here nearing the event of the exhibit in question… I don’t know if I can be as brave as my heroine. Which is why I wrote this tale. My painting will be hanging in an exhibit for months. And maybe an exhibit or two after that. I’ll have photos of it on my social media, and maybe even turn this story into a video of it’s creation. I will get this beauty, Menomorphia, in front of as many people as I can…and I know somewhere, someone will hear her speak.

Donna from the future here. I wrote the above a year ago. I was not brave enough to attend the opening of the event, but I did go see it later. And now, Menomorphia hangs in my studio. I will love her immensely until her real owner finds her.

Also, Lulu is my alter ego. I don't think I've spoken about her here yet on my blog. I'll introduce her next week. Thanks for reading.