There used to be a store nearby called Roseville and the first time I went in I saw this painting. I didn't know anything about the story of who she was but, I did know that I loved her from the moment I walked around the corner and saw her hanging there on the wall. She looked so sad and alone in her little world. I looked at the price tag and thought, "Yikes! That's a lot of money to spend on a painting." So I walked away and felt as if I had left behind a little piece of my heart.
A year later I went back into the store and she was hanging on a different wall sadly staring into nothingness but she was 100 dollars less. Still too much to spend on a painting. Every year I would go back and every year she would be moved to a new location and always 100 dollars less than the year before.
One day I drove by the store and they were having a huge sale so I decided to stop in and see if she was there. I found her hanging in a corner but she had been stripped of her beautiful gold gilt frame and reduced to 99 dollars. How I longed to take her home and hang her above my mantle but, came to the conclusion that my husband wouldn't like her. After all she is a little dark looking. Again I left feeling as if part of my heart remained there with her.
When I came home my husband asked me where I'd been so I told him about the store and the painting and that I had wanted her for years but knew that he wouldn't like her. A week later I came home from school to find a large wrapped gift sitting on the couch and immediately knew what it was. It was my painting of the Lady of Shallot. My husband had stopped by the store to look at it and left. I was right, he thought it was too dark but then he decided to go back and buy it for me because he knew how much I loved it.
She has been hanging above my mantle for the past eight years and every time I look at her I'm amazed by the depth of emotion that she stirs in me. Her story is truly a tragic one.