The Journey of Rejection in the Art World

Understanding the Artist's Experience

For more than twenty-five years, I’ve been submitting my work to open calls, juried exhibitions, and competitions. I’ve lost count of the entry fees, the resized image files, and the statements rewritten in a dozen different voices to fit whatever curatorial language was fashionable that year.

In all that time, the replies have mostly been silence. The digital void that stands in for artist rejection is all too familiar. Every artist knows it: the email that never comes, or when it does, it arrives without any feedback or explanation. You don’t even know what to work on to improve for next time. I often wonder if jury panels use the excuse of “too many applicants to offer feedback” just so they don’t have to explain their actual reasons for not choosing someone’s art. But I digress.

The Cycle of Acceptance and Rejection

I’ve had a few acceptances sprinkled throughout those years. They were enough to keep me from quitting but not enough to make me feel like I’ve ever really “broken through.” Oddly enough, when I am accepted, my first thought is never celebration. Instead, it’s more like, “Well, it must be a weak show if they took mine.”

That’s what a quarter-century of rejection does; it rewires your sense of value. You start to assume that the places that want your work must have lowered the bar. It’s twisted, but it’s honest.

A Glimmer of Hope in 2024

Then came 2024, an unusually good year. For reasons I still can’t quite explain, several of my submissions were accepted. One after another, the yeses arrived. At first, I assumed what I always do: the exhibitions must have been desperate. But by the time the last acceptance came through, something shifted. I started to think maybe my work was finally being seen. Maybe the tide had turned.

The Return of Rejection in 2025

However, 2025 arrived, and the rejections returned, swift and steady, restoring the normal order of things. That brief stretch of validation evaporated, leaving the same quiet routine: creating, submitting, waiting, and facing rejection. The false confidence vanished just as quickly as it appeared, reminding me how fragile the whole cycle really is.

The Reality of Juried Shows

The truth is, juried shows aren’t a meritocracy. They’re a lottery filtered through taste, theme, politics, and fashion. Some jurors prefer safe landscapes, while others want work that screams theory. If you fall between, too illustrative for fine art and too painterly for illustration, you live in the gap. That’s where my work sits, and where it’s likely to stay.

Learning from Rejection

Here’s what I’ve learned: rejection stops hurting when you stop believing it means anything. It’s not a signal that your work is wrong; it just means it doesn’t belong there. The system is narrow, and the art world moves in circles that don’t always overlap with yours. That’s fine. I’m not painting to please a jury. In fairness, I did have that in mind when I was young.

Now, I paint because stories still ask to be told. The images still come, and no matter how hard I try to push them away at times, they remain and niggle at me until I release them onto paper.

Embracing the Creative Process

When a rare acceptance eventually arrives, I don’t analyze it anymore. I take the win, hang the work, and move on. Because the real exhibition isn’t in the gallery; it’s in the studio, day after day, when you show up anyway.

Please yourself with your artwork first. If someone else appreciates it too, that’s a bonus.

In conclusion, the journey through rejection is a universal experience for artists. It shapes us, teaches us resilience, and ultimately pushes us to create for ourselves rather than for validation. Embrace the process, and let your passion guide you.

---wix---