Marrakesh by Design: and a tale of relief

I had told you about the trepidation.  About how it sat in the cardboard box, unopened -- my book, Marrakesh by Design.  

My husband peeked his head through the door.  Well? he said.  

No, I replied. Not yet.

The night passed, the day passed, the night passed.  My book sat in its cardboard box, the seal unbroken.

And then I opened it quietly, with no one around.  

It was bigger than I thought. 

Marrakesh by design
I opened to the first page, and then the next page, and then the next. And then I put it down.  And then I picked it up.  And I opened it again and read another page, and then one more, then several.    Then I closed it and opened it from the back.  And I read it, well, backwards.  

Marrakesh by design book
A wave of.... of relief washed over me.  {Why, it was okay.  It was, even, well, good!}

Book 124

I gave it to a close friend.  A designer friend.  I knew that she would tell me the truth.  

She liked it.  She liked it a lot.

Oh, thank you, universe.

Maryam Marrakesh by Design
I hope you'll like it, too.  Please, oh please, do.

PS I've been teaching my 12 year old son, Tristan, how to take pictures.  The ones above are his.

PPS My jewelry is from Bouvier.  Rebecca is my favorite jeweller ever.

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