exhibition

I was at the state art gallery to view a new exhibition of illustrated books, wandering around the vast space, when I came upon a small exhibition wall dedicated to my book. The book was there, printed and bound, sitting upon a white plinth. Around the book, someone had created a display in hot pink and orange with lots of white space, using various items to make an eclectic installation, such as boxes of tea and fine fabric. I went over to a lounge and sat down, my breath taken away upon finding my book included in the exhibition. I watched as a woman picked up the book, turning the pages carefully. She came over and asked if I had seen the book, pointing to a specific illustration of a young woman's face surrounded by leaves and flowers arranged in an intricate pattern. I was not sure if I should tell her that I had written and illustrated it, but I did and she was appreciative. I then noticed one of my paintings hanging on the wall, again predominantly pink, orange and white, and I realised that the entire section was dedicated to displaying my work. I saw empty walls and wished that I had produced more work to fill them, that I had made more of the space.