It's been a bad week all round, for personal reasons as well as artistic ones - but I'll save you the details and talk about the artistic reasons here. As mentioned previously here, there were a few things I was trying out for - The Saatchi 'best of British' Tv talent show for art, The Royal Scottish Academy spring open exhibition, and last but definitely not least, the part time job in an art shop.
I didn't get any of them. None too surprising really, as I was aiming high, certainly with the first two, but rejection is still always disappointing.
I've noticed, however, that rejection in my mid thirties is much easier to take than rejection in my teens, or twenties, or even early thirties was. When I was seventeen, I applied for all 4 Scottish art schools, and didn't get in any. I was heartbroken, angry, hurt - and swore off art for a very long time (at least a couple of years-heh). But part of me was also relieved, because I knew at heart I wasn't quite strong enough to deal with my art being ripped to shreds in the name of constructive criticism, big baby that I was.
But now, I find myself much more sanguine about these things. Perhaps a few years on crafts markets toughened me up - watching tourists look long and hard, then stroll past and spend their five Euros on plastic light sabres instead of my pretty prints. Or, perhaps it's just something that comes with age - an acceptance that wanting does not equate getting, yet that one should not use failure as an excuse to stop trying
Whatever the reason, my confidence and equinamity is happily undented by rejections these days, and I'm just focusing on getting busy looking for the next opportunity. And hapily, I have the Tuesday Art School to look forward to, details of which came through this week - masterclasses run by Artist Kate Downie for a small group of 6 students. I think this is actually the best opportunity that has come my way, and I'm really rather glad it's the one that came through.
I didn't get any of them. None too surprising really, as I was aiming high, certainly with the first two, but rejection is still always disappointing.
I've noticed, however, that rejection in my mid thirties is much easier to take than rejection in my teens, or twenties, or even early thirties was. When I was seventeen, I applied for all 4 Scottish art schools, and didn't get in any. I was heartbroken, angry, hurt - and swore off art for a very long time (at least a couple of years-heh). But part of me was also relieved, because I knew at heart I wasn't quite strong enough to deal with my art being ripped to shreds in the name of constructive criticism, big baby that I was.
But now, I find myself much more sanguine about these things. Perhaps a few years on crafts markets toughened me up - watching tourists look long and hard, then stroll past and spend their five Euros on plastic light sabres instead of my pretty prints. Or, perhaps it's just something that comes with age - an acceptance that wanting does not equate getting, yet that one should not use failure as an excuse to stop trying
Whatever the reason, my confidence and equinamity is happily undented by rejections these days, and I'm just focusing on getting busy looking for the next opportunity. And hapily, I have the Tuesday Art School to look forward to, details of which came through this week - masterclasses run by Artist Kate Downie for a small group of 6 students. I think this is actually the best opportunity that has come my way, and I'm really rather glad it's the one that came through.
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