good morning!!!!
it is another drizzly day here in wine land, another excuse to curl in to my self, my little world, my little spin spin spin of ink and oil and words. i spent a large part of yesterday writing a letter of intent for an artist residency. not easy. i have pages and pages of notes and little snippets culled from this blog about my ideas and intentions. i am trying to put them all in a line. it's time to try for the Big Stuff. in fact, i made myself a deadlines list. it's right here next to the computer so that i am forced to be aware of the date, of the time, of the schedule of the outside world. it is a good thing and i feel motivated to reach a hand toward my aspirations- even if the rejection letter comes as a result, it is good to get in the habit of trying. it is good to be in practice of dealing with rejection, not allowing it to derail you, to gain a bit more hard experience of what it is to believe in your own work. the art thing isn't supposed to be easy. how's the saying go? if it came in a bottle, every one would have it. it's true. people want to know that you're dedicated... that you mean it. and it has nothing to do with seeking approval. it has to do with standing your ground until you are the last man standing. it has to do with insistence and perseverance and a show of dedication that states you'll keep going no matter what. rejection after rejection, you come back.
i applied to this particular residency 2 years ago, fresh out of school, and was promptly rejected. ha! and i don't think it had as much to do with my portfolio as it did how i discussed the work and what my intentions were. it was a pretty crazy time in life and i'm sure the letter itself was distracted. and now, after a lot of change and struggle and wrestling with ideas, i feel much more prepared to attempt this again. the work (and how i think about it) is so much different today. so much deeper. so much more meaningful. but i'll admit i'm pretty daunted about it. all i can do is write and re-write and re-write. it's due in about two and a half weeks. the portfolio of work is compiled and ready to go. but The Letter still looms. work work work. and hope hope hope. and try try try. i've been rejected enough that it doesn't get to me all that badly anymore. the initial sting of it, the dashed dream, sucks, but it doesn't defeat me. it's worth a shot.
a pot of coffee is brewing. the morning is wet and grey and silent. no distractions other than myself. ;)
Showing posts with label rejection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rejection. Show all posts
May 18, 2010
Aug 24, 2009
trying...
dreams are sometimes scary things-
this great big goal of being an artist. what does it mean? what does it entail? how do you do it?
how do you make your love support you? should a person even ask for such a thing?
i guess this is how you figure out what 'aspirations' really are-
what is feasible, responsible, ethical... necessary.
since 6am, i've been finalizing a grant application. it's taken me well over a year to even work up the nerve to apply to this particular foundation, to risk the rejection letter, to prepare myself for the potential of receiving the big, fat NO. basically, i've been second-guessing my own practice for the last 6 hours. i've been staring at my portfolio thinking that it's all crap, that i'm not good enough, that it's ridiculous of me to even think i stand a chance. every success i've had has become invisible and mute. i can't see them or hear them. this is how it goes. this is the artist ego kicking in. this is our frailty and fear, our lack of logic in the face of desire. i know that i am being completely unreasonable. i know i've done at least some good work. i know that, should the rejection letter come, i've done my best and that it doesn't mean my work is without value. i know all this and i am talking myself down. once the envelope is dropped off at the post-office, i will calm down. i'll let go of my anxieties and i'll say, "it's out of your hands now, girl" and i'll go back to my day, happy as i always am, and i won't think about it much until the response shows up. right now though, i am in the thick of it- all my hopes and dreams laying inside a manila envelope... and all my fears that i'm not good enough to make them happen. but taking the chance is exactly what has to happen. isn't that what love requires? i have to be brave. i have to practice being brave as often as i practice painting. i have to put the work out in to the world and risk getting the response i don't want because, in the end, it isn't about me. it's about the work. i owe it to the work to push it out of my safe little sphere. at least that much i owe.
i will eat lunch and walk down the lonely 1/2 mile to the post-office. i will let go. i will try. i will come back home and lug my canvas outside. i will obey The Jog and sweat the anxiety out.
this great big goal of being an artist. what does it mean? what does it entail? how do you do it?
how do you make your love support you? should a person even ask for such a thing?
i guess this is how you figure out what 'aspirations' really are-
what is feasible, responsible, ethical... necessary.
since 6am, i've been finalizing a grant application. it's taken me well over a year to even work up the nerve to apply to this particular foundation, to risk the rejection letter, to prepare myself for the potential of receiving the big, fat NO. basically, i've been second-guessing my own practice for the last 6 hours. i've been staring at my portfolio thinking that it's all crap, that i'm not good enough, that it's ridiculous of me to even think i stand a chance. every success i've had has become invisible and mute. i can't see them or hear them. this is how it goes. this is the artist ego kicking in. this is our frailty and fear, our lack of logic in the face of desire. i know that i am being completely unreasonable. i know i've done at least some good work. i know that, should the rejection letter come, i've done my best and that it doesn't mean my work is without value. i know all this and i am talking myself down. once the envelope is dropped off at the post-office, i will calm down. i'll let go of my anxieties and i'll say, "it's out of your hands now, girl" and i'll go back to my day, happy as i always am, and i won't think about it much until the response shows up. right now though, i am in the thick of it- all my hopes and dreams laying inside a manila envelope... and all my fears that i'm not good enough to make them happen. but taking the chance is exactly what has to happen. isn't that what love requires? i have to be brave. i have to practice being brave as often as i practice painting. i have to put the work out in to the world and risk getting the response i don't want because, in the end, it isn't about me. it's about the work. i owe it to the work to push it out of my safe little sphere. at least that much i owe.
i will eat lunch and walk down the lonely 1/2 mile to the post-office. i will let go. i will try. i will come back home and lug my canvas outside. i will obey The Jog and sweat the anxiety out.
Aug 5, 2009
just the way it goes...
first thing in the inbox today- rejection letter. yep. not an exactly fun way to begin the day but at this stage in the game i've learned how to let that sort of thing bounce right off. i had sent 3 poems i've been working on for the past god knows how long to a publisher i've worked with before and i was actually shocked that they weren't accepted. i mean shocked. i'm not trying to toot my own horn here but the fact of the matter is that the work i sent is good. i always send my best work and present myself professionally and i don't (generally) submit stuff on a whim. i think long and hard about it and try to be as objective as possible, do my research and then think about it some more. the rejection didn't make me angry or sad or even confused... i think that maybe my work has merely gone in a direction that no longer fits into the over-riding aesthetic of the magazine. no big deal. that's the way this stuff goes. besides, you never know what kind of day the man with the gavel in his hand has had. never. and just because one person didn't want it doesn't mean someone else won't. besides, i'm pretty new to the whole poetry thing in terms of sticking it out in public. i'm definitely learning the ropes here and i expect i'll have to take my lumps like everyone else.
writing is hard. especially writing poetry. it's super duper hard... to write something "good" anyway. those few lines on the page are agonized over. and, in more ways than one, poetry is more about what isn't said than what is. in that respect, it's just like the paintings i've been making. what's withheld is what the work is really all about. i've always thought that painting and poetry are sisters. but i definitely don't have nearly the committed and dedicated writing practice as i do with painting. not nearly. i write every day but i don't write poems every day and i definitely don't edit and revise and critique every day like i do with the paintings. i'm still discovering my process with this stuff. and i don't really have anyone to share the poems with right now either. my sweetheart enjoys it when i read one to him but he's not exactly a poetry buff. he prefers the paintings for sure... as i'm sure most people who know me do. poetry has a pretty screwy reputation. most people think it's dumb and that it sucks and that anyone can do it. well, not quite. nothing could be further from the truth. poetry is hard and beautiful and important and it's an ever-changing, morphing thing that's hard to pin down. but it isn't hard to find. it's everywhere. i know that sounds like a horrible cliche but it's true. it's hiding in all those over-looked, common corners of a life. it's there waiting to be coaxed out... and i guess i'm trying to figure out how to do that. i will keep after it until i do.
writing is hard. especially writing poetry. it's super duper hard... to write something "good" anyway. those few lines on the page are agonized over. and, in more ways than one, poetry is more about what isn't said than what is. in that respect, it's just like the paintings i've been making. what's withheld is what the work is really all about. i've always thought that painting and poetry are sisters. but i definitely don't have nearly the committed and dedicated writing practice as i do with painting. not nearly. i write every day but i don't write poems every day and i definitely don't edit and revise and critique every day like i do with the paintings. i'm still discovering my process with this stuff. and i don't really have anyone to share the poems with right now either. my sweetheart enjoys it when i read one to him but he's not exactly a poetry buff. he prefers the paintings for sure... as i'm sure most people who know me do. poetry has a pretty screwy reputation. most people think it's dumb and that it sucks and that anyone can do it. well, not quite. nothing could be further from the truth. poetry is hard and beautiful and important and it's an ever-changing, morphing thing that's hard to pin down. but it isn't hard to find. it's everywhere. i know that sounds like a horrible cliche but it's true. it's hiding in all those over-looked, common corners of a life. it's there waiting to be coaxed out... and i guess i'm trying to figure out how to do that. i will keep after it until i do.
May 28, 2009
you don't work, you don't eat...
that's exactly right. exactly. and this painting thing nourishes me in more ways than one. after getting rattled a few days ago and losing a whole bunch of time to feeling inadequate and unsure, i have retrieved my confidence from the toilet and have established a NO SELF-PITY rule when it comes to my practice and to art in general. it's a time waster and it's silly anyhow. i knew when i started that it'd be an uphill battle. i knew it'd be the hardest thing i'd run across yet. i knew there'd be tons of rejection and tons of disappointments along the way. i knew. and i was fine with that. i knew that THIS is what i'm meant to do and meant to be and after 11 years, i STILL know it. however many times i get knocked down, it is for damn sure i will be standing back up. no question about it. whatever pitfall, it's worth it. whatever blow to my ego, it's worth it. whatever karmic slap, it's worth it. this isn't just my "job", it's my life's work and no amount of rejection or struggle or disappointment or attack will change that. ever.
so this morning, i will run and i will work and i will not lose any more time to nursing a bruised ego. i believe in what i'm doing. eventually, others will as well. i'm knee deep in paying dues at this stage in the game and, truth be told, i'm happy to pay them. i am happy to take my knocks. i'm happy to prove myself and my level of dedication. it is a bright beautiful day and i am resolved to not slow down. ever.
the work horse is back on the job.
so this morning, i will run and i will work and i will not lose any more time to nursing a bruised ego. i believe in what i'm doing. eventually, others will as well. i'm knee deep in paying dues at this stage in the game and, truth be told, i'm happy to pay them. i am happy to take my knocks. i'm happy to prove myself and my level of dedication. it is a bright beautiful day and i am resolved to not slow down. ever.
the work horse is back on the job.
Apr 4, 2009
ahhhhh saturday....
slept in til 9am. i'm still waist deep in my coffee pot and feel no pressure of any kind about any thing. :) my day wide-open ahead of me.
yesterday, i painted until about 1 o'clock when a rejection letter landed in my mail box. my confidence for painting completely shattered even though i knew getting in to this particular residency was a long shot. in spite of KNOWING i'd get a big, fat NO i still felt crumpled and it stung pretty bad. so i crocheted and embroidered for the rest of the day after that. but now, with about 12 hours of sleep under my belt and all sorts of loony dreams this morning, i feel good and have shaken the rejection off. it happens. it happens to all of us. it happens to the best of us. it happens to the big dogs. i'm lucky that at this early stage in my career, i've actually managed to get pretty far and have managed to build a pretty solid armour when it comes to judgement and critique. i know it isn't personal and, even though it definitely sucks, a rejection letter doesn't mean a damn thing when i look at the bigger picture. i'll try again next year, and every year, until i get in. this is just part of the path and i am more than eager to pay my dues. today, i am happy and light and full of gladness and not at all afraid. there's errands to run, groceries to pack in to the cabinets and fridge, a dog to walk, and a man to kiss. there's the paintings in my studio and poems to chase out of my notebook and row after row of crochet to hike across. there's dishes to be done and hair that needs to be braided and needles to push in and out. there's an entire life to look at, an entire day to tend to, postcards to send out and the land to consider:
angela simione, 2009
i will pick a poem for the day later once i've been out in the world a bit. stay tuned. in the mean time, welcome back the Radish King.
yesterday, i painted until about 1 o'clock when a rejection letter landed in my mail box. my confidence for painting completely shattered even though i knew getting in to this particular residency was a long shot. in spite of KNOWING i'd get a big, fat NO i still felt crumpled and it stung pretty bad. so i crocheted and embroidered for the rest of the day after that. but now, with about 12 hours of sleep under my belt and all sorts of loony dreams this morning, i feel good and have shaken the rejection off. it happens. it happens to all of us. it happens to the best of us. it happens to the big dogs. i'm lucky that at this early stage in my career, i've actually managed to get pretty far and have managed to build a pretty solid armour when it comes to judgement and critique. i know it isn't personal and, even though it definitely sucks, a rejection letter doesn't mean a damn thing when i look at the bigger picture. i'll try again next year, and every year, until i get in. this is just part of the path and i am more than eager to pay my dues. today, i am happy and light and full of gladness and not at all afraid. there's errands to run, groceries to pack in to the cabinets and fridge, a dog to walk, and a man to kiss. there's the paintings in my studio and poems to chase out of my notebook and row after row of crochet to hike across. there's dishes to be done and hair that needs to be braided and needles to push in and out. there's an entire life to look at, an entire day to tend to, postcards to send out and the land to consider:
angela simione, 2009
i will pick a poem for the day later once i've been out in the world a bit. stay tuned. in the mean time, welcome back the Radish King.
Oct 7, 2008
tuesday morning pep talk
well... thinking i could get all the glittering done to the print edition i'm working on finished by monday was totally unrealistic! :) but it's ok, i'll get 'em finished soon. besides, it's good to have big projects and get a little ridiculously ambitious every now and then: it pushes a person to reach beyond their comfort zone and find out how much stamina they've really got... and i'm all for finding out what i'm made of. i'd rather have way too many paintings to work on than none!
it's sad - i know a few people who haven't really worked at all since graduation. it's been 5 months. but everyone has their own distinct practice and ways of working that, maybe, taking a big break like that is helpful? i know that stepping back from paintings in the past (and the poems, recently) has given me the distance i needed to see the work accurately, to stop being so precious about it. sometimes, because we're so emotionally connected to the work, we can't see what's really going on - where we may have overstated something or when we might have not said enough.
a few months ago, i racked up 3 poetry rejection letters in the same week! no fun, for sure, but extremely helpful. it's easy for me to fall in to this NOW, NOW, NOW attitude sometimes when it comes to things i care deeply about. and, honestly, my desires distracted me from the facts: i was too close to the work to see it correctly. i needed to let the poems breathe awhile and stop putting so much pressure on them to conform to the people and journals i admire. i'm a new writer... it's gonna take time to get to the level i'd like to be at. so it goes.
the important thing is to not become jaded about it. i still read the journals that sent me rejection letters. why not? they were right. the poems weren't ready. they needed attention i hadn't given. and by continuing to read the work of others, i'm learning more about my own; what my inspirations and attractions are and why.
i've never been the type to shy away from a hard truth or hard lesson. those are the best kind. all i can do, all i want to do, is keep writing, keep painting, and continue to let art be the most important thing in my life. art is wonderful. it's necessary. it's why i wake up. i'm more than up for the challenge. i love it all too much to be daunted.
all this to say...
don't give up, guys. you're doing great. show yourself and your work the patience it deserves, the patience it needs, and usher forth a bit of faith too. art is too wonderful to be given up on. we all need it. terribly.
it's sad - i know a few people who haven't really worked at all since graduation. it's been 5 months. but everyone has their own distinct practice and ways of working that, maybe, taking a big break like that is helpful? i know that stepping back from paintings in the past (and the poems, recently) has given me the distance i needed to see the work accurately, to stop being so precious about it. sometimes, because we're so emotionally connected to the work, we can't see what's really going on - where we may have overstated something or when we might have not said enough.
a few months ago, i racked up 3 poetry rejection letters in the same week! no fun, for sure, but extremely helpful. it's easy for me to fall in to this NOW, NOW, NOW attitude sometimes when it comes to things i care deeply about. and, honestly, my desires distracted me from the facts: i was too close to the work to see it correctly. i needed to let the poems breathe awhile and stop putting so much pressure on them to conform to the people and journals i admire. i'm a new writer... it's gonna take time to get to the level i'd like to be at. so it goes.
the important thing is to not become jaded about it. i still read the journals that sent me rejection letters. why not? they were right. the poems weren't ready. they needed attention i hadn't given. and by continuing to read the work of others, i'm learning more about my own; what my inspirations and attractions are and why.
i've never been the type to shy away from a hard truth or hard lesson. those are the best kind. all i can do, all i want to do, is keep writing, keep painting, and continue to let art be the most important thing in my life. art is wonderful. it's necessary. it's why i wake up. i'm more than up for the challenge. i love it all too much to be daunted.
all this to say...
don't give up, guys. you're doing great. show yourself and your work the patience it deserves, the patience it needs, and usher forth a bit of faith too. art is too wonderful to be given up on. we all need it. terribly.
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