Rejection and Acceptance 2.0

listen to me read this blog post here:

Storytime!  This past summer I decided to paint three canvases simultaneously featuring seashells.  As usual, the creative process began with a surge of excitement and energy as I sketched out oversized shells I carefully selected from my family’s collection. 

The momentum continued as I grabbed my T-square and laid out a grid of one-inch squares.  I am always trying to become more efficient, so this time around, I even created color swatches to help me remember what colors I mixed for the stripes I paint in the grid.  I thoroughly enjoyed exploring a neutral and pink based color palette for the shells.  I got great feedback on my work(s) in progress.

At some point, my energy level plummeted as I struggled to decide how to handle the background.  Frustrated, I forced myself to walk away for a bit.  In my experience, returning with fresh eyes always helps.  In fact, I believe our brains work through problems as we sleep.  I often wake up, sometimes in the middle of the night, with potential solutions to whatever challenges I am facing being whispered into my ear.  These revelations can feel magical and there is a resurgence of energy.

Images: Collecting shells has been one of my favorite things to do (especially as a kid in Miami Beach with my grandmother!), Napping with shells in Miami Beach, Pages from an old photo album with images from trips to Florida, In my own world, Always looking for treasures in the sand, The shells that inspired the triptych “Resonating Shells”, Summer lakefront “studio” in the Adirondacks, Painting outside isn’t all it is cracked up to be (wind) but I don’t mind the dragonfly visitors, Works in progress playing with a more neutral palette, A sampling of color swatches I created to help make my process more efficient

I find the next phase of the creative process like a long road trip.  It requires resiliency and perseverance.  You can’t turn back.  You have to just keep going until it is over.  There are moments I wanted to chuck the canvases in the trash because of all the doubt.  Also, I was just so sick of looking at it.  Getting too close to the work is inevitable with each creative cycle.  It is difficult to not focus on all that is wrong instead of what IS working. 

I remind myself it is important to take breaks, then keep going.  I send progress photos to an inner circle of people who always strike that helpful balance of giving constructive criticism and encouragement.  The texts usually say something like, “just keep going!” Sometimes it is hard to know when to stop.  Submitting artwork to shows is a great way to create deadlines.  If I didn’t have due dates, I would probably keep refining pieces indefinitely.  Applying the varnish is quite literally the seal that closes the deal.

Images: Works in progress #1, #2, #3, Made the decision on what to do with the background and that these canvases want to stay together as a triptych, Satin varnish seals the deal (done!)

I decided to create a triptych (set of three) with my shell paintings because I felt so strongly that this trio worked better together than on their own.  I never submitted a triptych before to a show.  I had a lot of hesitation but did not want to separate the paintings.  I tend to have an inner dialogue of pros and cons and usually settle on, “well what do I have to lose?” and take the leap of whatever feels uncomfortable.

I mentally prepare for rejection with each submission.  I tell myself things like:

You never know what may or may not resonate with the jurors or whomever is deciding. 

The pool of submissions might not allow space for your creation.  The other artists’ work may have knocked the socks off the jurors.

It might just suck, and that’s ok too.  You learned something with this project, and you will only get better, not worse.

If it isn’t meant to be, it isn’t meant to be…it just means the art is supposed to find its way somewhere else. 

There is no shortage of opportunities. All you can do is keep painting and keep sharing the work.

All that said, I wrote my artist statement for the piece (“Resonating Shells”), photographed my seashell paintings, prepared the files, logged onto the submission website, read and reread the instructions a bunch of times and hit the send button.

I put a reminder in my google calendar for the date decisions would be made for the juried show.  I was hopeful but not confident.  I started daydreaming about the elation I felt last year when I received the email my painting “Take These Seeds, Put Them In Your Pocket” was accepted.

I convinced my friend, Tanya Debarry, who is also an artist, to submit one of her paintings.  I deeply feel there is room for everyone at the table, so I try to push her to show her work at every opportunity. Plus, her paintings are good and should be seen!

Images: The image I submitted to the 44th Annual Juried submission at the Monmouth Museum, I had mixed feelings when I saw this post of the submission deadline being extended

A few days after submitting our work, I saw the museum posted the deadline was extended.  Honestly, my initial reaction was irritation because I totally could have used a few more days to polish my artist statement and maybe get a better image of my triptych.  Plus, the pool of submission will no doubt be larger, possibly limiting my chances of getting in the show. OR perhaps they barely got any submissions and for sure my painting would be accepted.

Regardless of these thoughts, I was relieved my submission was DONE and I could move on to something else.  A lot of the time, I feel conflicted with the idea “sometimes it is better done than perfect”.  Is it though?

Fast forward a few weeks and the selection day arrived.  No email. Refresh, refresh, refresh. Wait until the afternoon.  Check email again. Check all email accounts. Check spam.  Nothing.

I texted my friend who also submitted her painting.  She received an acceptance letter!  I was truly so, so happy for her.  It would have been terrible if neither one of us was accepted and I was the one who encouraged her to do it!  Maybe she would have felt like she wasted her time!  Her artwork was accepted; it was her turn to shine and as disappointed as I was for my lack of acceptance email, I was excited one of us got into the show.  My son straight up asked me if I was jealous.  It was an unequivocal no.

I admit I spent some time wondering what I could have done wrong with my submission, maybe the color in the photo was off, maybe submitting a triptych was a mistake (maybe I should have only submitted one painting? Or all three separately?), or maybe they just had too many submissions where the subject matter is of the ocean, beach, seaside genre.  After all, we are so close to the shore, and this is a popular theme in art around here.

 I let myself sit with a mix of feelings for a bit of time, then came to peace with not knowing why.  Rejections are inevitable.  Not letting it affect your productivity or confidence is difficult.  The only way to regain confidence is to keep creating and putting ourselves into vulnerable positions that may or may not include rejection.

Eventually, instead of letting myself spiral into negative self-talk, I concluded what really was bothering me was not that the artwork was rejected but the not getting feedback part; I really wanted to grow from the experience.  For some closure, I WISHED I received a rejection email! Working from home in isolation, in a vacuum, does not lend itself to a lot of feedback.  This is part of why I like to post on Instagram and Facebook.  It helps me understand what is working and what isn’t…

The holidays came and went, and with the start of the new year I spent some time thinking about what I wanted to explore in my next pieces.

I started two new paintings with specific goals: to work on a larger canvas than I have ever worked, to play with switching the scale of the grid squares on a single canvas and to paint something on a tondo (round) canvas with a composition that has more depth...perhaps incorporating a still life with a landscape keeping my grid /stripe style.

These pieces have been keeping me busy and the opening reception of the show my friend was accepted to had quickly arrived!  I moved on from the rejection and was 99.9% at peace with it.  I love a good party, was so excited to see all the artwork, and connect with people in the community.

Above: My artist friend Tanya Debarry with her friend in front of her painting, The two of us at the opening reception, The list of artists exhibited

The evening flew by, the artwork and curation was outstanding!  There were over 100 pieces of unique art to enjoy; I could have spent another two hours there looking at everything. 

I had a great conversation with another artist I have bumped into several times.  The first word when I saw her was, “Congrats”! I had to tell her nope, I was not accepted.  She was surprised.  She reassured me my work doesn’t suck (“you don’t suck! Your painting last year was on the front of the brochure!” True…but…)  I messaged her later that night to thank her profusely for being so supportive. 

Tanya texted me photos of us after the reception.  I was glad she took some, because I was enjoying myself so much and it was so crowded, I didn’t even take out my phone. She sent a photo of a sign in the gallery with the full list of artists with the message, “Your name is on here”.  Huh? I was SO confused. Initially I thought maybe my name got on there as a mistake from the other shows I had been accepted.  In fact, I just had two small pieces in the museum’s Member’s Miniatures show.

The next morning, I decided to send the staff an email letting them know how much I enjoyed the reception and show.  In closing, I mentioned my name was on the list of artists, and it was likely in error.  I never received an acceptance for the show.

The artist I saw the evening before messaged me back letting me know she spoke to another guest at the party who had been in the show many years but also there were other years she wasn’t accepted.  I told her that was very reassuring and shared that my name was on the list of artists in the gallery.  She questioned if there had been a rejection letter or perhaps I just didn’t receive a response.  She suggested I log in to my Submittable.com account and check the status of my submission.

Why hadn’t I thought of this simple thing? I logged in and THERE IT WAS.  Accepted. ACCEPTED.  I nearly threw up.  What a rookie I am!!! My thoughts were swirling so quickly. Oh my goodness.  The curator must think I FLAKED OUT ON THEM and just never dropped off my painting!  Adrenaline flooded my body.  I called my mom to lament my mistake, and she encouraged me to reach out to the museum.

When I picked up my small paintings from the Member’s Miniatures show it was also the drop-off day for the Juried Exhibition.  A little voice inside me told me to ask the coordinator if my name and seashell triptych was on “the list” for the Juried Exhibition.  I was insecure.  I told myself not to go back down that negative path riddled with disappointment.  We got past that.  Most importantly, I didn’t want to appear arrogant, so I didn’t ask.

The museum graciously got back to me right away and replied to the email I sent the day after the opening reception!  They were so generous about the misunderstanding…I still don’t know what happened to the acceptance email. 

Above: The brochure for the show, Carrying my painting to the car to drop it off at the museum (I was so happy!), Portrait of “Resonating Shells” in front of the museum, Entrance to the Main Gallery, Exhibition visitors in the location the coordinator thought would be a good spot for my painting

I learned a great lesson about advocating for myself.  Whether the technology glitched or not, I should have followed up to confirm the status of my submission (or log into my account…duh).  I let my emotions lead the way and it only sent me down a self-doubt spiral. What a roller coaster ride of emotions!  I delivered my artwork the next day and had a great conversation with the staff.  They even invited me to help them make the decision of where the painting should be hung.  We all agreed it should live near the four other beach, ocean, shell themed pieces. 

I commended all the effort and hard work that clearly went into this show.  I offered to help take down the artwork in March and volunteer to put up the next one. 

She took my business card and seemed thrilled with the possibility of an extra pair of hands in the gallery.  I told her this whole experience has been an opportunity to learn and grow; I would be happy to help. It’s a community I never knew I needed or wanted to be a part of…but has given me so much.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this post.

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Stay inspired,

Melanka