So, you know how it is when there's something that you do that you think is way cool in the moment, and so you throw your excitement into it, but then you think that maybe it's not? And you've already committed to it, so you can't back out, and it's going to happen and you can't stop it? And you're still excited, but it's more muted - like being excited for a good haircut. And, like a good haircut, you hope someone mentions it or even somehow asks about it, but you don't want to be the one to bring it up?
Then, somewhere along the way, you start to find yourself excited about it, again. Like really excited. But it kind of seems like the window of opportunity for being excited about it has passed you by, and you really can't tell anyone now. Like you should have either jumped up and down and screamed a while back, and since you didn't, now you're not allowed to even whisper.
And then that thing that is, once again, really pretty exciting, becomes a secret. You share it with a few people, but mostly you just keep it to yourself. It's a strange ball of warm fuzzies that you keep somewhere near your heart, possibly just behind your left lung, but inside your ribcage where it stays warm. (And... yeah... that metaphor just got a little strange.)
Some pictures for you of where Christopher and I were tonight with a couple of my cousins (whom we'll call KF and KM, since I didn't ask if I could name them, here).
I'm betting you'll be able to find out what the secret is, since you're all smart people. But, in case you're reading this when your caffeine level is drastically low, or something, I'll meet you after the pictures to explain.
The night's invitation:
The first time I saw the book (probably thanks to KF):
Signing a copy for the editor (who, I think, kind of hated me by the time she was done with me) (KF, again, I think?) (Yes, I chose to upload the one where I'm not biting my lower lip as I sign):
The signature (thanks to KF):
One of the two pieces I wrote which were accepted, this one hanging on the wall of the gallery next to its photograph (thanks to KM):
Me with the ironically camera-shy publisher (thanks to KM):
Okay, yeah. So that's the pictorial story of our evening. Did you figure out that I'm now a published author? No, there wasn't any pay beyond a free copy of the book (but it's a very nice hardcover with seriously gorgeous photos - and some decent writing, if I do say so myself - in it). And, no, it isn't going to sell a million copies and make all of us instant celebrities.
But... hot damn... I'm now a published author. How freakin' cool is that?
The Intimate Landscape exhibit runs tomorrow through Dec. 14th in the Gordon Parks Gallery of the Library and Learning Center at Metro State University (645 E 7th St, St. Paul). If you'd like a copy of Intimate Landscape, the book, you can order it at www.open2interpretation.com.