Facing the jury


I am currently under scrutiny.

And the ironic thing is that I asked to be so. I have entered my dolls and oil paintings for consideration of entry into a prestigious local art festival. My application and portfolio is currently under jury review.

Applying for entry to this fine art festival has long been a goal of mine. My family is regularly in attendance, and I’ve always admired the outstanding art on display (and the artists brave enough to ambassador their work). And I would wonder, “Could I ever…?”

I am not a social person. I vastly prefer the sanctity of my insulated art studio to the chaotic world outside my window. And I have a hard time discussing my artwork: because I feel like I communicate honestly and sincerely through my work, it’s a difficult process to translate that in person; it oftentimes leaves me feeling bruised and vulnerable.

Plus I have a great fear of rejection. Perhaps the jury will think my work is not the right fit. Or, if I do get in, maybe no one will like my work. Maybe if I attempt to discuss my inspiration, a hole will open up in the ground and I will gratefully and graciously fall through it into realms unknown.

It is out of my hands
It is out of my hands

I mean, who knows. Anything can happen, and it can hurt (or not). But I took the important, brave, first step of putting it out there. I am willing to be scrutinized. I will stand with my art. I can face rejection. I dare to expose my neck.

I told myself I wouldn’t enter until I could accept a “no” without derailment. I’m proud that I was ready. And so I wait. But I hope it’s a “yes.”