the Unexpected advice that every exhibiting artist needs to hear

I can smell a rejection email from a mile away.

While acceptance letters always start with “Congratulations!” rejections are wordier. “Thank you for taking the time to apply to [fancy art show]. This year we received [ridiculous amount of applications] and our jurors had the tough job of selecting only [comparatively tiny number]. We regret to inform you that your work was not selected….” And nearly always, to close the letter, “thank you for giving us the opportunity to review your work, and we encourage you to apply again next year.”

I could write a rejection letter in my sleep. Suffice to say, I’ve received my fair share.

As an artist, I know that dealing with rejection is part of the job. Artists put our heart and souls into our work, and sent it out into the world to be viewed, consumed, metabolized —and judged— by others. If you’re going to be the type of artist that actually shows your work, rejection is part of the process.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting.

We get rejected. We mope. We move on.

I once got a piece of advice from a mentor, and it stayed with me. She said:

If you’re not getting rejected at least once a month, you’re not reaching high enough.

A selection of rejects

If I’m not getting any rejections, I know it means that 1) I’m not trying to show my work often enough, or 2) I’m applying to shows with a lower bar for entry. In either of these cases, as an artist who wants to grow my career as an exhibiting artist, I’m not working hard enough to reach my goals.

As a very sensitive person (as so many of us artists are) I want to reassure you that I haven’t become callous. Rejections still hurt. Some almost unbearably so. BUT —and this is important— I don’t let those rejections deter me. I know they are part of my journey.

Rejections don’t mean that my work is bad. They certainly don’t mean that I am bad. They just mean that this time, in this show, with this juror, they weren’t the right fit.

In the absolute best case scenario, rejections push me to get better. Maybe I’ll take more risks. Maybe I’ll spend the cash to hire a professional photographer. Maybe I’ll do better research on the types of pieces that typically get accepted into the shows I’m applying to.

But what I won’t do is stop making art. I won’t stop putting my work in front of others. Because my work is good, I’m proud of it, and it’s worthy of being seen.