Part 2 of 2 of “I coulda been a contender." Part 1 can be found on Photo Man's blog, dated: 2/2/08. And now, the exciting conclusion! My Most Dearest, Sweetest, and Kindest Judge Judy:
What a disappointment not to be selected in this year’s food-based quilting show! I really thought my warmed over ham/cheese/Moda’s Urban Street Gang Collection (“Amy’s B’s Keeping it Real”) would be a hit. I know, that you know, as a former chef and quilting artist, it is difficult not to burn the fabric while melting the cheese. I really thought that the judges would enjoy eating, quilting, and judging at the same time. However, I do so appreciate your rejection letter and will take your suggestion of not applying so much mustard in the sandwich that the fabric soaks it up. Great suggestion! I look forward to sending you my next submission, an ice cream scalloped nine-patch, in-the-ditch, hand-sewn quilt. But please remember to keep it in the freezer when not being judged.
-- Betty Crocker Yo, “Judge”:
What is your %&@#’ problem? Where’d you get off judging MY work! I sent you a very descriptive document elucidating my unmatched quilt design. Since I am a highly-paid Ad Exec in the quilting magazine biz, I knew my creative wordsmithing would capture your stilted judges’ imagination and take them soaring, as they needed to go, to new linguistic heights. Instead, I get a lousy-worded form letter stating next time to send a digital image—a picture no less! Mere pedestrian utterances fail to describe how insulting that tacky note was to me, a “word-jazz” artist. I mean, it’s like asking Billy Shakespeare to take a snapshot of two young people and calling the photo “Romeo & Juliet.” Or, saying to Herm “whale baby” Melville to take a photo of a big gray fish and call it “Moby Dick!” Or a picture of two guys on horses and calling it “Don Quixote.” I’m sorry but something is seriously lost in that word to photo translation! While a picture may be worth a thousand words, a thousand words at 10 cents a word adds up a lot faster more than some sort of digital picture of my quilt! In closing, watch your back, buster--you’re on notice!
-- Mr. Ad Ver Tising Chuck:
‘member that night in my garden studio, when'd you said, "Kid, this ain't your night." We’re gonna give the quilt prize to Wilson-Salem? You made my quilt take a fall—it didn’t have a sleeve! It was my night! I coulda been a contender! But ya gave the prize ’stead to Wilson-Salem! They said that others made that final decision--but let’s face it, Charley--it wasn’t them--it was you! You were my brother! You shoulda looked out for my quilt—you could’ve sewn some for me; you shoulda taken care of me so I wouldn’t hav’ ta submit my almost-finished quilts to these juried dives for some short-term glory. I coulda had class! But all I got was a one-way ticket to Palookaville, and me, ending up feelin’ like-a bum without a sewing machine. Ten to one da judges won’t remember me (I coulda been someone!), but I'll remember you and every ones of ya lousy judges! I'll be back next year with another quilt design!
--Terrie (“Covering the Waterfront Design Studios”) Mr. Marco Q. Home: (see photo above)
Oh sure, I entered the quilt contest as I thought I would get a ribbon--or at least get my work published. But your rejection letter, “love it, but…” cut a perfect hole like using a radial blade to my being published dreams. Then I had a thought, perhaps I could be a writer. I will ignore the fact that I can’t write, or spell, don't understand punctuation, or even know how to read. It can’t be that difficult! Yes, instead of using fabric I’ll put words together. I’ll sew sentences into paragraphs. Creating large paragraphs, I'll bound them together to produce chapters. I’ll hand-choose the language that others have used and then discarded, leaving their fragments of seemingly insignificant text on the floor of life for me to create my very own--and yet at the same time--universal need to be heard, seen, and to be read. Yes, I’ll create chapters that become a design for a book. I will cut the excess flowing written words with sharp editorial scissors, pressing my keyboard with a hot iron of determination, putting the final sleeve on the first edition book cover jacket. Yes, that will be me; or could be me; or (truth be told) wants to be me. Note to self: Now all I have to do is write something that someone wants to read.
--A Sad but Faithful Reader [Editor’s Note: For those who wonder about such things in life, actual quilt and textile designers/artists are, in Photo Man’s experience, far more nicer and much more decent human beings than those fictitiously portrayed above. Any resemblance to any actual juried show, person, character, company, place, event, incident, movie, or a particular quilt publisher, is an inexplicable quandary, mysteriously baffling, absolutely unexplainable, and a total coincidence—it’s fiction after all.] |
