In 2006 I submitted, for the first time, a painting to be juried into a national art exhibition. I held a newly found, tentative confidence in my artistic abilities. I screwed up my courage, filled out all the necessary paperwork, enclosed a slide labeled with the required information, licked the envelope and dropped it in the mail. A few weeks later I received a response from the organization and it went something like this: “Thank you for submitting your artwork for our upcoming exhibition, although your work was not accepted at this time, we hope that you will…yadda, yadda, yadda. And then it happened….I went into what my husband still refers to as the infamous “funk”. I did not lift a paintbrush for the next six months.
I can only explain it like this…that the rejection letter to an artist is like a “Dear John” letter to the lovelorn.
Eventually I picked myself up, dusted off my damaged ego and when I finally did re-enter the studio I felt rejuvenated and passionate again….and I painted like a mad woman. The following year I entered another piece in the same exhibition and it was accepted. Not only that, but upon arriving at the gallery I discovered that the painting had sold. My confidence returned and I have been in numerous juried exhibitions since then.
This brings us to yesterday when I received another rejection letter. My second one in seven years. I responded this time by immediately entering not one, but two, paintings in a different national exhibition.
Damn the torpedoes…full speed ahead. And that goes for you lovelorn folks too.