I never win
in the lottery. Nor major prizes.
When I was
a teenager, I entered a photograph competition with a snapshot of my swimmer
friend approaching a turn in a butterfly race, and was mad as hell that I
received second prize, which was a pocket camera (with Bavarian colours), of no
better quality than the cheap camera I had used to take the picture in the first place. I had so
wanted to win first prize, a reflex camera, which I couldn’t afford because I
would have to save my pocket-money for years and years on end, nor had any
chance of receiving as a birthday present. (Looking back at it now, although I still
wouldn’t appreciate that particular prize, I probably would have felt a bit
more pride at coming in second.)
In 2008, I
won a prize for handquilting at the Quilt Festival in Radolfzell, on Lake Constance,
which had been donated by, of all companies imaginable, Bernina. That prize I
really appreciated – first of all because of the quaint combination,
handquilting and Bernina, and, secondly, because it could only be redeemed in
the Bernina shop at Steckborn,
Switzerland. I
invested it fully into a large acrylic quilting table for my Bernina machine,
which I might have been too stingy to buy – at least for quite a while longer -
if I would have had to pay for it in
full. I still use it when I am using that machine, and it has been a cherished assistant in many a quilt's quilting.
Whenever I
do play the lottery, which usually only happens when a large jackpot is waiting
for a winner, I consider myself lucky if I win half of what I invested to
play...
|
This picture is a shot of the announcement as it appears on my computer screen, taken with my current digital camera, several generations after that camera with which I entered the photo competition many years ago. |
Because the call for
entry at first really was a call for application to enter. A drawing would
determine who of the applicants would be allowed to participate in the end.
Lo and
behold – last week I received the mail that I had been chosen. Out of 247
applications, mine was amongst the I-don’t-know-how-many. I could be one out of
twenty, fifty, or 247, it did not say. (Correction: after checking out her
website, I now know that I am one of fifty.)
Today I
went ahead with the procedure: signed that I would pay for my own fare should I
be one of the chosen 10 finalists who are expected – no, obliged! – to
participate in the prize ceremony in March where the order of placement will be
announced, for example. Pre-address and pre-stamp an envelope in which I will
receive My Bird, which I then have to do something to or with. Fill out an
application form, of course. Agree to pay 20 euros in case I should NOT send in
my finished piece before the deadline runs out (Aug. 9).
So I don’t
know what I got myself into, as I don’t really have a clue as to what kind of
blank or template will come to me. But I will be doing 3D, and a bird at that,
because I sure don’t want to pay 20 euros for not doing it. I do hope lots of
ideas will fly in on wings once this is under way!
(And I
won’t start thinking about what I will do about that mandatory presence at the
award ceremony on that particular weekend in March, for which I already have a teaching
commitment – because I never win major prizes anyway...)