July 1, 2009
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I don’t know what I’d do with a do-over.
I think about fixing things I’ve messed up. Being the ultra-Virgoan perfectionist I was born to be, that’s natural, I guess. I have transcended the anxiety and shame that used to go along with being an imperfect perfectionist. I screw up sometimes. So what? That doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to live.
Still, I think about my mistakes and try to learn from them. My little material screwups, such as an inedible kitchen experiment or a series of “inspired” photos that just don’t sing when I get a look at them, these are easy to do over or to get over. Human relations is the area where I am more often left wondering whether do-overs are even possible and, if so, how to do one.
There is this guy, an artist whose work I admire. I hadn’t known he existed until the day I was doing a Google image search for something to illustrate one of my mythological blog entries. The piece of his art that I found wasn’t exactly what I was looking for. It was non-traditional, and I was after traditional images. It showed me how the old myths live on in modern culture, and my concept for the essay expanded to make room for that picture.
I found a contact link for him and wrote to ask permission to use the image. I didn’t say much in that message, just that I was doing the essay on that myth and thought his painting would illustrate how culture keeps myths alive and evolving. He gave me permission to use it, and also sent me links to sites with some biographical info, more examples of his art, and a page of his father’s art.
My essay on the myth went on the back burner for a day, while I looked at his work and his father’s, and followed up on his story. It’s an interesting tale, of an educated high-status family that immigrates to the U.S. from South America and ends up, to some extent, being mistaken for Chicano wetbacks.
When I finished my essay and posted it, I sent him a link to it. In the email, I mentioned how much I enjoyed seeing his work and his father’s, and reading about the family’s experiences. The reply I received from him took me completely by surprise.
He wrote that he was thrilled to have encountered me this way, that he felt we were soulmates, and that he wanted to create a painting especially for me. It set me about half a step backwards before I told myself, “Well, maybe we did know each other in past lives.” I hadn’t felt any particular personal connection, but… What do I know? I have been meeting such “soulmates” all my life. I suppose he could be another one.
Even so, he was coming on kinda strong. I chalked up my feeling of hackles rising to the possibility of some complicated karma between us. The reply I sent him was somewhere between neutral and positive. I was honest. I said that if we had known each other before, I had no conscious recall of it. I think I expressed appreciation that he’d want to paint something for me. I half believed, but didn’t mention, that I thought it might reveal something of our past association.
I never heard from the guy again. A few months later, I was reminded of him when someone commented on that old post. I sent him another email, just asking if he had gotten my previous message. It was a few years later that the penny finally dropped and I realized that the guy probably took me for a leech, and his gushy “soulmate” stuff plus the offer of an original artwork were just bait… and I bit.
I think of him occasionally, and wonder how I might have handled things differently. I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to be as cynical as he apparently is, but a little bit of that might help to temper some of my naive literal-mindedness. It would be fun to explain the situation to him and laugh with him at the misunderstanding, but I don’t suppose that is likely. He might be one of those, “one strike and you’re out,” people. I had my chance and I blew it. I can live with that.
Comments (10)
Or perhaps he was the lecherous one, and lost interest when you didn’t fall over yourself in appreciation. You never know.
It might have been interesting to see what piece of artwork he might have produced for you.
I’ll be darned if that doesn’t remind me of so many situations in my life. I have a list as long as hell calling me down to be reminded of my whole life of opportunities. but like you, “whatever!” it’s not like I don’t still deserve to exist. it’s nice to be reminded that sometimes it’s better to have a back up bit of faith that for all the times we see the sha poo poo on our shoes, there is always some water handy to wash it off.
makes me wonder
I once emailed an author of a book that impressed me so, as it almost seemed like she was writing about my life: she is Italian, Sicilian like I am and looks like all the Sicilian women I have known and more importantly, also a psychic. I was surprised that she wrote me back and I again emailed her. Her reply was to come to NY to attend one of her “shows” at $150 ticket! LOL Oh well. Life is full of surprises and everyone needs to make a buck.
I don’t know, K…it just seems weird, the way he responded/did not respond. He could just be crazy.
Human relations can be so entertaining.
This reminded me that there’s an artist that I did some writing for years ago, who offered to paint me a picture in trade. It’s been 13 years. I wonder if he’s done yet?
People are funny creatures. You just never know the why or the reason for some of their reactions or actions toward us. Even when we know them. I thought I knew this guy well, and apparently I misjudged him complete to be a man of his word.
You can never tell with artists. O_O I wish I had a handful of do-overs with regards to expressing my admiration for some of them. Some I would have never contacted at all. I made the mistake in assuming that all artists are “sensitive souls”, generally kind at heart, and very open minded. Uh-uh. Sometimes the most beautiful piece of artwork that touches your heart in a special way that nothing ever has before is created by the biggest douchebag you’ve ever had the misfortune of conversing with. Yay internets!!
perhaps his girlfriend found his e-mail:)