I've spoken and written publicly about rejection many times, encouraging others not to let it stop you in your tracks. But bottom line, it's still awful when it happens to ME. I almost used another phrase but it was rather crude....
My ability to deal with rejection comes in waves. Sometimes I feel strong and unstoppable, and other times I feel meek and weepy. No matter. It's never fun, even on the best of days.
What helps me is to remember that rejection is usually about the other person/situation/parameters and not necessarily about YOU and YOUR WORK. Just like being in love and not having that feeling reciprocated, it doesn't mean YOU are not worthy, it means you are not a good fit with that particular person.
It also helps to remember that rejection comes from OUTSIDE us. When I find myself listening too hard to rejection, I find I've placed my center outside myself, outside my core, outside the place my artwork comes from. It means I am listening to the world too hard.
Believe me, it can be just as unbalancing to hear too much praise for something, if you place too much weight there and start producing to make other people happy. It's still following something that is OUTSIDE you, and pulls you off your center.
I'm always at my strongest when the art comes from what makes ME powerful, and then let it find its own place in the world. When I listen to MYSELF, and go from there.
I can say this with conviction because my artwork does not appeal to everyone. In fact, it does not jive with the current trends and fashions in contemporary art and craft. It's not a framed painting of Mt. Monadnock (a favorite landscape icon here in NH), it's not purple, it's not playful(okay, the fish are funny) and it's not cats or dogs.
I've been told by buyers it's too powerful, too scary (the sticks frighten some people, apparently), too whatever. Even when they LOVE it, they say they can't sell it to their customers. It can be discouraging at times.
What's exciting is, the people who DO love my work, really, really love it. It speaks to them of perseverance, of empowerment, of what it means to be human, striving to make sense of the world. It speaks to them of the very balance of life, of turning chaos and despair into hope and beauty.
I think my art helps people hear their OWN story, and to tell it.
Eventually, the confusion and doubt all go away. What stays is the desire to create.
What remains is to tell that story inside me that only I can hear, so that others can hear it, too. If the story does not appeal, then they can reject it.
But if it resonates with them....Oh, my!!! Stand back!
Another storyteller is born.
