Losing Hubert was inevitable. After years of admiring, collecting, and chasing Hubert I had grown to believe that he was exclusively MY mystery artist. After all, I was the one who saved him from oblivion when I found his etching hidden beneath an old mirrored beer sign. I was the one who started a blog to track him down. I was the one who spent endless hours contacting strangers all over the world to find the identity of this elusive artist.
For a long time I was the lone person who showed an interest in Hubert …… until several weeks ago when I noticed a Hubert etching in an online sale. I was the first and only person to place a bid and I was confident that I would soon have another etching to add to my collection. Because I would be at work and unable to log on for the final crucial minutes of bidding, for insurance I foolishly placed my highest bid higher than my affordability, never dreaming that there would be anyone else as interested in Hubert.
You can imagine my anguish when I arrived home and logged on to discover I was outbid. Someone won my Hubert and paid a pretty penny to acquire it. I felt like a jilted bride left at the altar. After experiencing four of the five stages of grief – denial, anger, bargaining, depression – I eventually arrived at the final stage of acceptance. Losing Hubert, although extremely disappointing, was an encouraging sign that others adore Hubert as well. It was time to relinquish my possessiveness towards Hubert and embrace the possibility that Hubert has grown a following. The Hubert Fan Club does have a certain ring to it….