It took me several weeks to come up with a name for my muse. (See previous blog post) I felt that a personal project of this enormity in my heart and mind deserved a proper name. I had a name privately floating around in my head.

Yesterday my father was to accompany me on a couple of Pure Detroit tours of some fabulous buildings. Our first one was at 11:00 at the Guardian Building. As we set out to drive into the City, we were met with white out conditions. We tried to get home, but that took longer than it should have because we had no clue where we were- we couldn't see anything. We turned on my GPS and she calmly and effectively guided us home.

We had some time at my parents' house to spend until the 1:00 Fisher Building tour. So, I told them about my project. I told them how passionately I felt about it. I told them that the mannequin deserved the dignity of a name. I told my father I had one in mind. It was a family member's name. He looked at me and knowingly said, "Stella." Yup. Stella.

My grandmother's name was Stase (Stacy in English) but she always called herself Stella. This project doesn't remind me of my grandmother. It has nothing to do with her at all. But the name, Stella, seems so perfect.

We ventured out again for the Fisher Building tour and this time were successful in our commute. We had some adventures in finding a parking spot, but we got into the majestic building and I was excited for the tour. And then I saw this:

photo

It just had to be this way. So, my lovely, fragile, smelly and almost forgotten muse now has a name. Stella.