What’s your rejection ritual?
Rejection rituals have been on my mind lately. I don’t have any—and I’ve wondered what small practice might make rejection feel easier. The first things that come to mind? Fire and flames.
Because rejection hurts. Even when we tell ourselves it’s a numbers game… even when we know each “no” brings us closer to the right “yes,” there’s still a sting. Intellectually, we get it. Emotionally, it lands differently.
As someone who has also been on the judging side of things, I know how subjective art really is. Every juror, art consultant, gallery owner, or collector brings their own taste and vision. During my time publishing Open to Interpretation, we reviewed around 3,000 images per issue. What fascinated me most: one judge’s selections could be entirely different from another’s. Both sets were full of exceptional, deserving work—yet choices still had to be made.
Sometimes two images were equally strong, and one fit the theme just a bit better. Sometimes one told a richer story. And yes—sometimes a judge accidentally hit delete and the image simply disappeared. You never know what factors are at play.
What you can know is this: the critic who matters most is you. You know when a piece is your strongest work—and when it isn’t. If it’s not, you polish, refine, and grow. And if it is? Then take Joan Rivers’ advice: have a little wallow, feel the feelings… then move forward.
Rejection is also an invitation to reflect. My work isn’t for everyone. A friend once called it “smearing wax around,” and honestly? That’s fine. It makes it even more meaningful when someone truly gets my art—connects with it—chooses to bring it into their home.
Because those are the people I’m creating for.
I’d love to hear from you in the comments below. Do you have any rejection rituals?
Be well….be creative,
Clare, thanks for the pep talk. From a purist standpoint my work has been denegrated for not being historically accurate and for not using traditional methodology. That being said my work has received wide recognition. The work I am referring to is my wet-plate collodion work. As you say . . . there is always a bit of a sting receiving a “thank for submitting but unfortunately . . .” letter. I have never let it stop me and I hope it never stops anyone else from creating.
Jeannette, I’m so glad that it hasn’t stopped you. Your work is beautiful and the world deserves to see it! Thank god the world is not all made up of all purists.
I always send a heartfelt request out to the Universe asking for artistic enlightenment for that poor juror and then I go get some Sea Salt Caramel gelato.
Seriously, though, it’s a two-edged sword. It’s a lesson in knowing that it’s not about your art, it’s about the juror’s life experiences and personal discernment, but it can also be a chance to reevaluate your work with a fresh eye. Great question, Clare!!!
OK…..I think I need to add the sea salt carmel gelato ritual!
Big smile – it’s an attitude-changer!
I haven’t cut-off my ear. Maybe I am not submitting enough work for review. When I do receive rejection I listen carefully and use what is helpful because I am still learning. The rest of it I ignore. Most people don’t see things the way I do. Warhol, Picasso were probably rejected also.
Don, I love that you recognize that you see differently. And yes, even the most famous were rejected at times.
My husband will tell you that I definitely love a good wallow and that he always has to hear all about it. My only ritual, besides whining, it to get back up on the horse in short order before he runs off to greener pastures.
Here’s another thing–when I do get a piece accepted in a competition I have to pay to make it, then ship it there and back! That is after I paid to enter in the first place. I’ve been relieved to be spared the expense at times.
Here’s a rejection I got last year. I was so pleased to get it.
“Unfortunately your work was not selected at this time. It is important to mention that your work was noticed for its’ high quality and the decision was a difficult one. This jurying process was especially challenging with nearly 600 works of art and although we noticed your work, in the end we had to make difficult choices.
We encourage you (wholeheartedly) to apply to future exhibitions.”
Pretty nice, huh? I just submitted again. If I don’t do this stuff then my lovelies just sit around gathering dust.
Hi Carol, good luck with the resubmission. I’ve resubmitted the same piece and/or proposal the following year just to get accepted and rewarded the grant the second time around!
That is so cool to know, Clare. It is encouraging, too. We all have to pay our dues. Anyway, acceptance is not why we do it. Making art fills much deeper needs. I feel so privileged to be able to spend time making art.
Me too…..
I just received a rejection email – from you, for the National Photo Encaustic Exhibition! In the past, when my photography has not been accepted into one show or another, I’ve gotten upset and downright angry – for me, anger masks hurt, at least for a bit … This time, I’m trying to reframe the disappointment and celebrate the fact that the show was what spurred me to make art, and I always seem to need a kick-in-the-pants! Is it my best work? So far – it’s pretty much my only photo-encaustic work to date – and I learned a lot as I was creating this work, and I know that I’ve got lots more to learn, so I’ll keep playing and creating!
So glad to hear that you are not taking it personally. It’s always a tough decision on a judges part and it’s impossible to know what went into that decision. And I’m ever more glad to know that the show has spurred you to make art…..as that’s what it’s all about……