Totally Rejected
Looking into the mind, seeing reflections from the past. Seeing my own acceptance and failures. Replaying all my moves, all my ambition, all my effort. Finding hidden pieces of information that have huge impact on my feelings. It’s a complicated emotion, the battle of good and evil. All the wrongs fighting all the rights. Wondering what turn was unnecessary for my forward momentum.
It’s a lot of work to gain traction when there’s never been a decent start up. I feel sometimes like each step forward is into another pit of quick sand. Even though I see options in front of me, I keep getting stuck. This past month was a huge personal test of courage and endurance. After completing another full studio of work in the past year, I finally had the strength to show it. I posted everything for sale on Etsy, and entered as many competitions I could find and afford.
Then the winners get announced or should I say, get lucky. They got chosen. Wearing a big ribbon, posting a huge banner, accepting the awards. All the important pictures, all the credit. Like the participants were only there to fill the money gap to pay for the show. I have even set out to enter into some galleries, which is now even more embarrassing. My work isn’t even worthy of a trophy, why would it get put on exhibit?
The first and only gallery show I made it into was a long time ago. My painting was of the last tree standing on earth, peeling away in the heat, as sheets of paper, flying in the wind and crumpled up like garbage. The life of an artist, each piece was it’s own art, worth more as part of the tree then it will ever be to the one who used it. Art comes and goes, it ages, it is underappreciated.
Being an artist comes with a constant discomfort. A constant need for approval, for survival. I know I can’t make it in this world without creating, and I have also learned how difficult it is to make it as an artist. The artwork is diminished with each rejection. There is no guarantee of satisfaction for the one who made it, although it was well made. Each detail was carefully added, each shadow was perfectly placed. And it gets put back in the corner.
It’s hard to continue a fight that seems to only have output. Without a purpose, it all seems so meaningless. I’ve worked as a maid, cleaning and scrubbing. At the end of the day, someone not only noticed, appreciated it, and payed for it, I often got a tip. I’ve worked retail, spent every day cleaning the showrooms, organizing, setting up displays. I’d eventually get a pay check, I’d eventually have a customer who enjoyed the experience. I’ve done clothing alterations, made custom clothes. Each piece was worn, each piece made someone feel good. In all cases it felt like it went full circle. I was noticed for my hard work. And it payed, and often more than expected.
Doing what I love, using my creativity to try something new, stops in my own heart. I feel the need to keep going, I feel better if it gets out of my head and becomes a visual experience. Then I feel horrible as I put it into the corner, without anything coming from it. If a tree falls in the forest, and there is no one there to hear it, did it even fall?
