As I edged my way through the winding aisles, narrowly missing a precariously-piled display of citrus, I had to wonder, is this not but a little crazy?
This being the Majestic Palm riding shotgun in my grocery cart. I had not expected during my weekly grocery run to pick up a large potted plant along with my milk and eggs, but upon seeing its graceful green fronds, I had to have it. And I knew exactly where I wanted to put it: my studio at Mainframe Studios in downtown Des Moines.
I recently completed my formal application for a permanent space at Mainframe Studios where I currently reside as the Drake University Artist in Residence. It’s a role I inhabit with pride, but also a healthy dose of disbelief. You see, between quitting my full-time job as a graphic designer in April 2018 and moving into my studio in August 2019 I tried not once, but twice to make that space my reality.
My first application was rejected by the Drake University Art and Design department. At the time it stung. How could it not? But now, while I may not wear it as a badge of honor, I at least keep that rejection in my back pocket. It keeps me humble, yes, but it also reminds me of the power of second chances. Or perhaps more importantly, that second (and third, and fourth, and fifth chances!) are only what you make of them.
As any author/illustrator worth her salt will tell you, rejection is part of the process. At the end of the day, what matters is not the fact that you received your first, fifteenth, or four hundredth rejection letter. What matters is what you do next.
Call it crazy, call is resilient, once you’ve shed the last proverbial tear, it’s time to pick up the paintbrush once more if only to ask, what if? What if this time my manuscript is accepted? What if this time I am chosen as the illustrator? What if?
It’s the question that keeps us all coming back to the keyboard or the drawing board. It’s our precocious inner child who’s innate sense of curiosity cannot be quelled.
In the case of my current studio residence, that what if found me madly typing my second proposal the night before it was due last February. And that what if transformed a dream to reality.
That same question surfaced in my mind as I wheeled my overstuffed cart to the cashier. It’s the reason I bought a tropical plant on the coldest day of the year, covered it with a shopping bag to protect it from the cold, and carried it all the way to my fourth floor studio.
There’s no way that plant will fit in my living room at home. (As my friend Laura reminded me, “It’s gonna take up your whole apartment!”) True, but what if I can stay at Mainframe even after my residency ends?
What if?