Rejection, Part 2

Breaking news as we receive it!

I just got an email from an artist residency program that I was pretty excited about. It was a rejection letter, alas, but it was a really great rejection letter.

The bulk of the email read:

I am sorry to let you know that we are unable to offer you a residency at **** this summer. We were very impressed with your work, but unfortunately can never accommodate as many artists as we would like to.

Best of luck to you in the coming months, and with your practice. We hope that you might find a way to come to **** sometime in the future and encourage you to apply again either for our upcoming fall program or for a future summer residency.

Aw! What a nice rejection. Well, I was planning to reapply anyway, if this happened. At least I know now that I have a sliver of a chance.

***

In other news, I now have a 4 or 5 month wait to get a rejection letter from THE big exhibition in town, a biennial. I just submitted my materials today and just... the wait. Torture me, it will. I want to think that I could be accepted this time, but I am steeling myself for the big R, if you must know. But I guess we'll see! Ah, the life of an artist.


Anything Could Happen, Mixed media, 7"x9", 2009.

Rejection

It happens to every artist, multiple times throughout their career.

The dreaded rejection letter.

At this point I feel fairly immune to the effects of receiving one. I've trained myself to expect it only because then it doesn't hurt at all -- not to mention that when I get a positive response, it feels that much better, too. But I must admit, it does sting a little bit, no matter how well I train myself otherwise.

In January I sent out maybe a dozen packets to be considered for shows at various galleries. Most were responses to open calls at galleries throughout New York state and New England. I have yet to hear from almost all of them, but yesterday brought my first rejection letter from the batch.

It wasn't a terrible letter; I am gleaning a little hope from it. It said that the gallery welcomed future proposals and that if I had any questions to please feel free to contact them.

And, you know, I think I might, eventually. I'll certainly send out another, more well-thought out packet. Some of the things I know were not quite right with that batch of packets was including images of work that doesn't quite all go together (i.e. I included my collage work and my paintings, both figurative and houses -- confusing, no doubt!), and maybe my cover letter was too long and personal? Probably, knowing how verbose and squishy I can be sometimes. And maybe a shorter form of my resume would be a better choice.

I chalk it up to learning. Making mistakes, taking missteps, but also taking care to not repeat them and move forward. It's OK.

I've got to keep submitting proposals, sending packets, refining my presentation, and most important: making new work.


A Supposed Day Like Any Other, acrylic on canvas, 2009.