I received another rejection letter.
So instead of crying silently, I am kvetching (Yiddish for complaining) to the world.Â It is the third event this year I applied to and have been rejected from.
I keep hoping this process gets easier but so far is has not.Â It is painful in more than one way. It is painful because every time I apply to one of these shows it takes time to complete their applications, time to make select images, make discs and money for the jury fee.
Money I do not have.
I do not mind only owning two pairs of shoes or only getting my hair cut twice a year, but to be rejected and pay for it is frustrating.Â This frustration is followed by a loud “WHOSHHHHH” as my confidence deflates.
The effects of last year’s marriage crises has made me more vulnerable.Â I physically feel like I aged ten years in one.Â Somehow this feeling of rejection gets all wrapped up in all my other emotional shortcomings.Â If I throw in some thoughts about the deflating economy, I can almost go comatose.
So here I am at 38 wanting to be an international artist.Â Am I insane?
At this moment I find myself thinking about the book “Agony and the Ecstasy“.Â I realize I have it a little easier then Michelangelo, who physically went to the quarries and cut out the marble in order to create.Â I know for all the agony I might feel at this moment, it does not compare to the ecstasy of a glorious painting day.
Storms always pass.
(Wendy’s dream is still to become a influential international artist, but she left 8 Women Dream in March of 2010 to complete grad school.Â She is still a strong supporter of 8 Women Dream and you will see her in the comments on the blog.)