Crushed hopes and dreams
/I've been binge-listening to a podcast that is all about dealing with rejection. It's about being chosen, and then being told, "Oops, we made a mistake! You are not the right fit." It’s also about receiving vague feedback about what's wrong with you and then having to deal with that knowledge and figure out what it means.
The podcast is "Dead Eyes" and is about actor Connor Ratliff being cast for a small role in a television show directed by Tom Hanks, and then - right before filming - had to re-audition. After re-auditioning, he was fired and heard through the grapevine it was because Tom said he has "dead eyes".
The podcast is really wonderful because it goes into detail about all the emotions and ideas that are processed when you are chosen, then un-chosen. The worry that maybe you aren't good enough. The insecurity caused by feedback - real or flippant - and how seriously you should take it, especially when it's from someone you respect and that everyone says is so nice.
The podcast also talks about the problems with an industry that leaves so much frustration in its wake because it is so difficult to make it as an actor. The constant rejection. The slivers of hope. The moments that could be your big break because you will be in the same room as a gatekeeper, and you might just be able to charm your way forward in your career. Crushed hopes, over and over again.
This podcast has been such a pleasure to listen to as someone who is very familiar with rejection. I can relate to all the feelings, and the podcast brings humor to what can be a discouraging, deflating, hard reality.
Open calls are a part of my practice, and I expect rejection. If I get a "yes", it's gravy. A bonus. An unexpected perk. The reality is that for every open call opportunity, there are only a few slots and lots of people vying for them. I don't feel hurt when I am not selected, because even if I am a good fit, there may just not be room for me. I've got rejection down.
But I've become aware of another form of rejection that is harder for me to swallow. It is different than shooting off images and a statement for a residency or grant and then hearing "Thank you, but no".
It is NOT being chosen while I watch my peers get shows, sell work, be included in art fairs, and have studio visits that seemingly drop from the sky. Things are happening for them, and while I'm happy for them, it makes me question what I'm doing wrong if nothing is happening for me. Why am I not being chosen?
The first form of rejection (open calls) is a fairly anonymous process that I'm removed from and is easier to deal with. The second kind hits closer to home: watching friends, studio neighbors, and people in my life have good things happening in their career. At times I feel like I'm not being invited into the club, and it is so much harder.
Sometimes I sink into my deep lounge chair of self-pity with my glass of martini mixed with tears, but I am also a problem solver who looks at things and tries to find a solution. If what I've done before hasn't worked, I'll try something else. I also remember that everything comes in waves; there are ups and downs, busy times and quiet times. It can be easy to forget when I am in a slow period while others are busy. But there's nothing that lights a flame faster than seeing someone else moving forward. So I personally am working on taking others' successes as my fuel for the next thing.
On the podcast, Connor has mentioned how through it he has taken one horrible event in his life and created something incredibly valuable out of it. He's gotten more acclaim and attention from talking about his rejection than maybe even from acting. Similarly, some of my best ideas come when I have nothing to lose. So I try to remember that it can be a great place to hang out and drink martinis for a bit.
I also have some recent insight about what contributes to one artist's success over another, but that's for next time!
Virginia
P.S. If you'd like to join me in gathering up some rejections (and maybe every once in a while an acceptance), I invite you to sign up for one of my two Subscriptions (or both).
In January, I've already sent out 13 grant opportunities through the Grant Deadlines Subscription, from regional to national grants, and prestigious opportunities to microgrants. My other subscription is month-to-month and includes all kinds of artist opportunities like Artist Residencies, Juried and Solo Shows, and Publications.