Pigment of my imagination

In a less that a week I will be in Charlotte for a scrapbook convention. I will spend more than 2 days going to classes to learn how to do neat things with materials I never imagined using in just such a way. It will be the second year - last year Candi went with me. This year, I've convinced Signe to go.

This is all I have to show (in photos) for last year. I made lots of fun stuff, but somehow this is all that I got into the camera.

Candi and I felt a little out of place since most of the people/women there were SAHMs. We were GTWGs (go to work girls). More likely to have 3 or more conservative suits, a string of pearls and navy, black and brown pumps than any two other women in the whole convention center.

Yep, we were fish out of water. Until I saw a free spirit more in the minority than we were: I dubbed her the goth scrapbooker.

I saw her first: black high top converse on her feet, plaid flannel skirt and black tee, many more tattoos than my needle-fearing self could imagine, with the unmistakeable air of a scrapbooker in scrapbooker heaven.

I didn't see her anymore that day or the next. I wondered if my memory had exaggerated her appearance in the sea of cropped pants and pink. Everywhere there was pink. And green.

Then the last morning, as I sat on the last row, someone came in a little breathlessly and asked if the chair next to me was taken.

It was her. She was not a pigment of my imagination.

We were sisters under the skin when it came to scrapbooking.