The postcards from Syracuse, 2018 edition…

I don’t want to look at them.

I know they’re in the mailbox, and I don’t want to look at them.

Nine postcards.  Six for photography, three for arts and crafts.

Nine postcards in my mailbox, all of whom made a long journey from the New York State Fairgrounds in Syracuse to my home in the Town and Village.

I don’t want to look at the postcards.

Because although I can smile and cheer about my arts and crafts projects earning ribbons – The Soda Crate Hope Chest took a second place in 2017; Hi Norman’s Kill Dairy and Honeywell Farms, two re-purposes wooden crate projects, both snagged honorable mentions in 2017; and The Church of St. Philco, a conversion of a radio cabinet into a church dollhouse, snagged a silk in 2016 – my luck with my photographs has been non-existent of late.

Entering Competition Season 2018, I’ve been shut out of the photography salon for the past two years, and in three out of the last four years as well.  And I’m afraid that if I open up that mailbox, there’s going to be six more rejections inside.  Maybe seven, maybe eight – depending on whether the judges thought my Saratoga Vichy projects or my GLF Quality burlap stitching effort was tres gauche.

Urgh.  I can’t look at the postcards.  I’m getting a nasty twist in my stomach.  All this effort.  All this production.  All this … unknown.

Did I do the right thing by pulling my black and white entry, The Waterwheel of Greenfield Center, at the last moment for my Milky Way shot of the Rexleigh Bridge?  Was I too brash for entering a picture of a pinhole camera’s view of ten months of sunshine?  Could I enter an infrared picture, knowing that my previous infrared photos were never accepted?  Or my post shot with a female model, wherein I haven’t had a photo with a human subject in it accepted by the State Fair in nearly a decade?  Or that urban exploration of finding a stoned-out school bus … was that too much of an appeal to the urban explorers out there, many of whom aren’t judges?

I don’t want to look at the postcards.

Two years ago, I thought that three of my images had made the cut – but, in actuality, they were marked “ACCEPTED” and then scribbled out, as there were too many accepted photos and mine were culled in a second round of judging.  That same year, I thought that I had earned a first-place silk with my first-ever submitted arts and crafts project, The Cathedral of St. Philco, only to discover – to my dismay – that a clerical error meant that I physically received a first-place ribbon, while only scoring third place overall.  Mind you, I was given third place and I was the only entrant in that category.  So yeah, if you think I’m being a bit paranoid and shell-shocked over this… you’d be right.

Meanwhile, I know that there are those out there who are not supporters of my endeavors.  These are people who hope that I fail.  These are people who get some sick schadenfreude over my miseries.  These are the ones who think a good day begins when I have a bad one.  I know they read this blog, hoping that all the postcards contain “NOT ACCEPTED” checkmarks on them.

UPDATE: Whoops.  This post was supposed to appear on my blog in a few days.

Let me explain.

A good blogger writes a lot of his blogs in spurts and drips and drabs, crafting everything ahead of time.  Sometimes this means I can post a blog when I’m on vacation, or when I know I will be away from my computer.

So this was the first part of my “postcards reveal” blog.  Unfortunately, instead of hitting “save as draft,” I accidentally hit “publish.”  As the blogging gods say, “I boo-booed.”

My bad.  Sorry.

But yeah, I’m so nervous about these postcards this year … that I’m blogging about their results before I even know what’s on them.

Man, I need to take a day off from blogging one of these days… 😀