Marrying Daisy Bellamy by Susan Wiggs

Author:Susan Wiggs
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2011-09-17T04:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

“We’re sorry, Ms. Bellamy,” said Mr. Jamieson, the director of the MoMA Emerging Artists program. “We won’t be featuring your work this year. The competition was very, very fierce.” He slid the packet of application materials and the portfolio of originals across the desk to Daisy.

Seated in the bright, cluttered office in midtown Manhattan, she tried to maintain her dignity. She’d known this was coming; the bad news had arrived via email the day before. Still, all the way down to Manhattan on the train, she had entertained a fantasy that the editorial board would change its mind. We’ve made a terrible mistake in judgment, they would say. There’s no way we can conduct this year’s show without your work.

She should have deleted the email and carried on. Instead, she’d decided to come and collect her portfolio in person and spend the day with Sonnet. She’d tried sharing her disappointment with Logan, but he simply didn’t understand. “No big deal,” he’d said. “Move on.”

“Ms. Bellamy?” The director spoke kindly, drawing her back to the present. The sounds of Manhattan—honks, shouts, whistles, sirens—filled the air outside.

“I understand,” she said, taking care to appear cool and professional. “I’m grateful for your consideration.”

“You have many fans here, and you have ever since your original submission a few years back. It was a tough decision. You’re very close.”

Good to know, she mused. Close.

“I hope you’ll submit again for next year’s show. Persistence pays. It’s trite, I know. In your case, it’s true. Many of the artists accepted have gone through the submissions process multiple times.”

“I’ll certainly keep that in mind.” Rejection was part of the process, Daisy told herself. She’d always known that. From her first Kodak Kids prize in the third grade, she’d been keenly aware that when you made art and put it out there, people judged you, and it was completely subjective.

Her entry had been a shot she’d taken of her friend’s tabby cat, perfectly silhouetted on the windowsill, its tail a question mark echoed by the shape of a tree branch outside the window. It had placed second, and one judge had noted that many people were allergic to animals. The best shot in the world of a cat wasn’t going to impress someone who didn’t like cats.

“On a personal note, I want you to know, I’m one of those fans,” said Mr. Jamieson. “I’ve seen quite a lot of growth in your work from the previous submission to this one. This portfolio is more mature, and the point of view is stronger. It’s a good deal darker in tone.”

Losing the love of your life will do that to a girl, she thought.

She met Sonnet by the UN, and they headed downtown on the subway for lunch in Chinatown.

“They’re nuts,” said Sonnet, when Daisy told her the results of this year’s jury. “Completely batty. They ought to be begging you for material.”

“Thanks,” Daisy said. “I’m not going to let myself get depressed.”

“Good for you. Next year’s coming up before you know it.

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