It's a napkin on the cover of a book (OK, the piano part for a clarinet solo) for a Jane Davenport class (Express Yourself). I absolutely hare it. Jane's napkins sort of melted into the pages with the matte medium. This sucker didn't. It's bumpy - which she says it great texture. I hate it. So to say something like "Oh, there's no such things as mistakes!" is insulting. I feel like this is a mess up and so it is. There is nothing WRONG with a mistake. Nothing at all. I make mistakes ALL THE TIME. I'm a human being. I turn the wrong way, I burn the cookies, I spell things wrong (dyslexia), I MAKE MISTAKES. I am not ashamed of them, and saying something like they don't even exist makes it seem like I should be. Did I mess up this cover? Yep. Can I fix it? Maybe, maybe not. If I DO fix it, does that mean the mistake never happen? NO. Absolutely not. I simple means I repaired what I screwed up. I'm allowed to screw up. I refuse to pretend like I don't.